Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: DELICIOUS (02/04/16)
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TITLE: Big as Texas | Previous Challenge Entry
By PamFord Davis
02/10/16 -
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Noticing my hand at my side, Brother Medina asked if something was wrong.
I knew physical pains were nervous reactions to stress.
Both my husband and pastor encouraged me to eat but I could not get food past the lump in my throat. I have never understood how people cope with insurmountable problems by cramming edibles down their gullets. Psychologically, they attempt to bury troubles under a weight of foods. I, on the other hand lose my appetite all together. If seeking solace, I slumber.
It was a Saturday afternoon. My day had begun routinely enough with readying myself for work. Sue, our 13 year old daughter, and Andy, 11 year old son were going with me. I held a sales clerk position in a small ceramics and gift shop. My employer, Sam, was a close family friend and he allowed me to bring my children along whenever I wished.
At his shop, he had made a comfortable side room; it was much like a den in a typical middle class American home. The sitting area came complete with coffee pot, chairs, end tables, and music sound system. Customers and friends periodically popped in and out for conversation and coffee.
On that particular morning, Sue was seated in a stuffed swivel rocker. Seemingly doing nothing out of the ordinary, she caused the chair to move.
To my horror, I realized she was having convulsions. I had never witnessed anyone in a seizure. My own daughter was a victim. What followed, I vividly recall. She went limp and did not regain conscienceless. A friend rode with me in an ambulance to the closest hospital.
After ER, a doctor informed me that she had experienced more convulsions during his examination. They were transferring her to Santa Rosa Children’s Hospital. I called my husband and briefly explained developments, asking him to meet us at our destination. Thinking matters could not be worse, I made a second ambulance ride; this time into the heart of Alamo City.
I was wrong.
There at Santa Rosa, a doctor came into a small waiting area before Nathan joined me. Keeping steady eye contact, he spoke of Sue’s state as a combative comma and diagnosing possible pressure on her brain. He explained that surgery might be required to relieve the pressure; my approval would be needed. I wanted Nathan to be included in any decision making. Entering from an elevator, he did partner with me in doctor-parent consultations.
Soon after, physicians and technicians ruled out the need for surgery of which we were grateful. Like detectives they drilled us. Could she have taken drugs? Gotten into anything in medicine or cleaning cabinets? She had been helping Sam strip some furniture in an open barn. Ventilation would not have been a problem. Becoming reconciled to the fact of her critical coma state, I prayed and waited.
Seeing her confined for the first time was horrific. Her wrists and ankles were restrained and wires ran from her body to monitors. Over and over, I thought My baby, my baby. Day was waning. Nathan had to pick up Andy and return home. The wait turned into an around the clock vigil. For the most part, I managed alone. The large hospital waiting room had a convenient wall telephone and windows offered a view of scenic San Antonio below.
That Sunday, the Lord’s Day, was unlike any I had ever known. The Lord’s people were supportive through phone calls, personal visits and prayers. Though concerned, our parents and siblings were over 1,000 miles away; our church home family filled the gap. Staff offered meals at regular intervals but as before, I could eat only minimal amounts.
I needed comfort food.
Sam’s wife, Audrey, made delicious homemade soups; that was what I craved; so I called her and asked if she could bring some soup when they came in. Audrey’s heart was as big as Texas; therefore, she gladly filled my request. That hot soup ranks at top of my memorable delicious foods list; it was exactly what I wanted.
Love was the main ingredient.
*True story, some names changed. Our daughter came out of the coma early Monday morning. I walked towards her room and heard her crying out, "Momma! Momma!" (Doctors never agreed on a definite cause.)
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I hope this gets the attention of the judges...it should rate well...but, that's my opinion, I love your writing!
God Bless~
I think you spelled the word consciousness wrong.
I just watched my son have his first seizure a few weeks ago (and hopefully his last). He is a grown man. I can't imagine how long you had to endure the aftermath with your little girl. So frightening!
God is good. I'm so glad prayers were answered for her and you.