It's Been A Long November and There's Reason To Believe

It's been five days since the last post. I'm sure we were missed (maybe not if everyone hates our template). Hopefully everyone is doing well. As it seems, this November is going by rather quickly, yet the feeling of awkwardness is more evident. During these last few days, it was my turn to embark on the internship weekend practicum at the hospital in Pensacola. As Dane Claycomb and I arrived, I became a bit nervous. We arrived at the hospital at 4:00 PM on Friday and left at 1:00 PM on Sunday. It was a good learning experience. I made about ten visits to patients by myself. We helped lead a worship service on Sunday morning for some of the elderly patients in PACU and some of the mentally handicapped patients in behavioral medicine. I would write a detailed description about it, but it was so tiring and stressful both physically and spiritually, that I would be exhausted just typing the silly thing. Plus, I've already told the story far too many times. While we were there this weekend, we had a total of ten pages, I'd say. Which resulted in four codes (that's when somebody's heart stops), four traumas, two referrals, and one death. The hardest to deal with was the death. I watched as the doctor's and nurses tried to keep that man alive. I watched more blood come out of him, than they were putting in, as the medical team tried everything possible to keep him alive. But to no avail, they had to stop. Nothing would work. Well, as the wife and (later on) the other family members arrived, I had to sit and watch them listen in unbelief, that their loved one was gone. After about thirty minutes of listening to a wife, undeniably proclaim, her husband wasn't gone. After listening to her shed tears of sorrow and remorse for things that she felt she had some sort of control over. After listening to the son demand to know why his father was gone, I broke down. I felt compassion for the family. I grieved their loss. I put myself on that table, dead. Wondering what my wife would be feeling. It's all too real to me now. As the family’s pastor prayed for them, I began to weep for them. I was mourning with the family, who no doubt, was holding back tears of their own. Why must it be like this? Why must life be so precious? If the greatest joy lies beyond these earthly, temporal walls, why must there be so much sorrow amongst a man who is truly and joyfully in a better place? For I cannot answer these questions because I do not hold the answers one seeks. For I only know that the day I go will be a much better time than these days I’m sure. I used to worry about genuine salvation; that I might end up in that fiery eternal separation from God, in Hell because of my own blindness. Now, I just know that the day I leave this wretched body will be a day of triumph and victory. I will not hold to these things anymore. I live for today, but hope for tomorrow, alas...

"Dying was the easiest part, now I'm afraid of life." The Dingees