In my post “A Son Off the Edge” I wrote about a visitor I had when I was in the ICU, I called her a nurse. My wife had never heard this story before till she read it before I posted it and she said the nurse was an angel.
Anthony Baker commented with his story about a visitor he had when he was in an ER for some repair work. I ask him if it might have been the same nurse? I will post both stories and ask you to please comment on what you think? I would also like for everyone who has a similar story to please add it to this post. If you know of someone who has a similar story please send them here to add their story.
A day or so later I was awaken in ICU by a nurse. I could not make out her features for my eyes could not focus yet. She was soft-spoken and gentle for she came to bathe me. She was dressed in white and had a bit of a glow to her and the words she spoke I shall never forget. To this day I have never told anyone about what she said to me, for some unknown reason, I shall today.
As she washed away all the dried blood and dirt these are Her words, “God wants you know He still loves you. He said to tell you He is going to take back what is His. He wants to heal you right now, He will put your toes back on. He will stop the pain and you can get up right now and walk out of here. All you have to do is love Him. But you are not going to do that He said for you are a strong-willed one and a fighter. You will walk and run again and your body will be as strong as it has ever been. God is going to let you lose everything even the way you think. For you will no longer be able to think and solve the problems in the manner you do now. Your body is going to know pain all the days of your life.” She left the room and I have never seen or heard of her again. Every word of what she said to me came true.
When I was laying (lying?) on a stainless steel emergency room table having my face sewn back on after inhaling the horn of a flipped-over ’67 fastback Mustang, a “nurse” whom I could not see stayed with me and held my hand. No one remembered her being there but me.
I have to add a little to that story, James. I was so messed up that my mother, a career medical professional, could not stay in the room with me – her own son. I hurt so badly because the nerve damage wouldn’t permit any pain-killing shots to work – everything just drained down my throat, while I felt every stitch. My face was so swollen I couldn’t see a thing.
Then this “person” came up beside me (“I’ll send a Comforter”), spoke with a female voice (because I am sure a male voice wouldn’t have been as comforting), and said, “Whenever it hurts, just squeeze my hand. I’ll stay here with you.” James, I was a martial artist who could break boards with those hands. I must have squeezed hard enough to break every bone in “her” hand. Yet, I was never alone. Praise God, I was never alone.
Later, I wanted to find this “nurse,” or whatever. Somebody said that they think they saw a candystriper (volunteer) that day, but they weren’t sure. Nobody knew who it was that held my hand. Now seriously, James. This was a major hospital ER. Nobody just walks in without anybody having a clue who the person is.
Yes, God blessed us.