Study and Work Mesh

I am currently studying Pharmacology for my Nurse Practitioner Masters Degree. Friday I had a patient named Alicia. She was 19 years old and came in because she had a vaginal discharge. As we do with all the females that come in with this complaint, we did a pregnancy and urinalysis test on the unit. It turned out that she was pregnant. Since the nurses don't necessarily follow a patient through the process, I met her when I went in to discharge her. As I gave her the instructions, she said in a sense of desperation "How much does an abortion cost?" I have no idea since I have never had to deal with this so I said "I don't know." She continued to say, "I'm 19 years old. I already have 2 children - the second is only 9 months old. I can't deal with another one. How could this happen to me when I have been on birth control?" I asked her if she had missed the timing on her 3 month birth control shots. She said "No. I have been very faithful." I immediately felt her honesty and her efforts to not get pregnant were very legitimate. (I do not get this sense with many of the young women I have met in the last couple of weeks) And she didn't seem too keen on getting an abortion.

My mind began to analyze the situation. How could she get pregnant while she was on birth control? (Don't get me wrong, birth control is not always 100% effective) I went directly to my recent studies of antibiotics and birth control in my Pharmacology class. One big teaching thing that was clear to me was that some antibiotics could decrease the effectiveness of birth control methods. So I asked her if she had been on antibiotics. She said, "Oh yes, I was treated for a toe infection a little while ago." So I said "Didn't the nurse tell you to use other methods of contraception while you were on the antibiotics?" She said "No." She hadn't read the discharge instructions which clearly instructed her on this with the antibiotic she was taking. My heart reached out to her. She was in a very difficult situation. As she got her coat on, I said "The baby is in Jesus' hands. You will know what to do." She responded with "Have a blessed day." which is commonly used here by African American Christians or those who attend church.

I kicked myself later because I could have prayed with Alicia then and there asking God to show her what to do but I didn't. I prayed for her later that day on my own. I prayed that I would be more sensitive to that tugging in my heart and to be more bold to pray with my patients if they would like it. And I resolved then and there, that I would take a few more seconds to explain the medicines and to remember the things I have been learning in my studies. A few steps forward in my ministry to my patients and to appreciating my studies and to being grateful that I can take the time to care.

Our Daily Bread

I have been listening to Brian Doerksen's new album "Holy God" many times as I drive back and forth to work. His second song is about The Lord's Prayer. One phrase has struck me deeply. He sings, "Feed us today what we need to live" for the phrase "give us today our daily bread." I just thought that this was a very convicting adaptation to the common phrase of The Lord's Prayer. I tend to ask more or expect God to give me more than I really need each day. I have often asked myself lately, "What is it that I need to live?" Do I need 3 meals a day? Do I need to have everything go right for me throughout the day? Do I need to be comfortable and without trial?And to think that God provides what I need TODAY - not what I need tomorrow, or next month or next year or even for my retirement etc. Can I trust God to give me exactly what I need to live today?

This phrase goes through my head a lot and slowly I am learning to trust God to face the challenges of today and put aside the challenges of tomorrow or of my future. I sincerely believe this is the way God wants us to live. As I think of the poor in Africa or here in North America, they live to survive each day and cannot even be concerned about whether they will survive tomorrow. As I faced my emotional struggles in the past few years, I have pleaded that I want to do more than just survive each day. I have asked God many times to just give me a period of time where there are no challenges. As I look back, I realize that God did give me what I needed to get through each day. And God does give more many times when I look to Him for my needs for a particular day. And it is a blessing to be able to look at the end of the day and say "I did more than just survive because God gave me what I needed for that day."

Jesus in Express Care

Makesha came to Express Care the other day. Physically there just wasn't something completely right about her. She walked kind of funny and her arms and hands were a bit askew. She seemed to be quite bright and answered all my questions. She complained of her toe hurting her. Already in the triage area, I felt a link to her.

I brought her into an exam room and noticed her thin coat - too thin for the 10 degree F weather of the day. Her white sweat shirt was dirty and grayish in colour. She struggled to get her shoe off. I bent down to remove her very black white sweat sock. She cried out "oh, it has gotten worse," a sense of despair in her voice. I looked at her foot - wrinkled and sort of deformed, pieces of dead skin falling off the sole. Her big toe nail was barely attached, not at the base but at the tip of her toe. I got a basin and filled it with normal saline solution with a bit of Betadine for her to soak her foot in. I can't identify my emotion at that time - but there was some grief that she should be in this condition and there was a lot of love.

I returned to her room and rinsed her foot off and dried it gently with a towel. She hopped awkwardly as I supported her to the exam table. I gingerly directed her foot to rest on the blue pad. I felt a strange sense of compassion for her. As I reflect back - I can identify what was happening - Jesus was in that room. He was reaching out to Makesha through me. Just as He had washed the disciples' feet, and as I washed the feet of my friend recently at a seminar on serving, so He was washing Makesha's feet. He was loving her through me.

As she got her x-ray and the toenail was removed, I couldn't stop thinking about her. I so much wanted to get her in the shower and scrub her back, and smear thick moisturizing lotion all over her. I just wanted to love her with Jesus' love. One of the nurse's bought her a juice and a Danish. As I dressed her toe and explained how to change the dressing, I found I kept saying "when you get home." And I kept asking myself, "does she even have a home?" How foolish I am to assume she has a warm place to go to, to be sheltered and cared for. She thanked me profusely and as she out her shoe back on said "Oh that feels so much better now." She put her coat on, gathered up the extra supplies we could give her and headed out the door to catch the bus to go wherever she came from.

That night as I cuddled under my warm duvet, I prayed, "Dear Jesus, keep Makesha warm tonight. Show her how much You love her. Thank You for loving her through me today."

Refreshment

It is fall. The sky is a rich blue far above. The yellow leaves carpet the forest floor. The light shines through the trees scattering speckles of light all around. There is a little brook. The water gently runs over the stones. It bubbles and babbles. It is clear, shining water. The bottom so clearly visible. The air is fresh and crisp. Jesus and I are walking slowly along the brook. Pausing frequently to commune together. There are no words. He gently steadies my elbow as I stumble on the roots. He gives me a hand up on the steeper parts. I feel expended and tired, though we are not walking fast or labouring hard. My mouth is dry. Jesus motions for me to sit. He comes down beside me. He scoops the water out of the brook, gesturing with His head, willing me to drink. I lean over. The cold fresh waters touches my lips. I drink. The water drips from His hands but they always seem full. I drink slowly. The water glides down my throat. AH... refreshment flows over me. And I look at those hands - with the nail scars red and deep. And I know His love - I am restored.