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Cheers
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This was supposed to be my entry where I journalled my passion - my belief that angels walk among us. the journalling reads:I’ve always been so grateful for the fact that my children were healthy – that I wasn’t one of those moms that had a Children’s Hospital story. So many of my close friends have heartbreaking stories about being in a hospital room, staring helplessly at their child as they laid ill in the bed beside them. Not my kids though. My boys were tough, strong. This Christmas though, I realized something.It can happen to anyone.At only fourteen months old, Dylan became extremely ill. A trip to one hospital late in the afternoon on Christmas eve yielded a diagnosis of pneumonia and a prescription of penicillin. We were sent home. After two days of no solid food, no sleep, and barely any milk, my baby finally went down for a nap. He slept for three hours. He woke up for only thirty minutes and then was asleep again for another while. I thought he was just catching up – so exhausted from being sick. I checked on him during the night. He developed a fever at about 3:30am and my husband dosed him with medicine. Then at 8:30am, my husband and I both sprung awake and looked at each other – why had Dylan slept so late?When we got to the crib, I looked down at my peacefully sleeping angel and noticed that his breathing was extremely laboured. We quickly decided to bring him to the Children’s Hospital in London. I have never been so panicked and scared in my life. And then I called Sarah.She calmed me down and gave me instructions. She was so great. One of the ones with those sad stories though – her daughter had been hospitalized, newly born. When we got there, they found that Dylan’s oxygen levels were so low, his body couldn’t really do much but sleep. They hooked up his oxygen and IV and admitted him. Let me tell you something – there’s nothing sadder than a child in a hospital gown, oxygen and fluids being pumped into his poor little sick body, monitor cords hanging off of him everywhere, looking at you helplessly.Through the whole thing, Sarah offered hope, love, help, and reassurance. On the last day, I talked to her again to learn that the room we had stayed in was the very room she and her daughter had been in. I believe that God has plans for us. I believe that to some extent, he orchestrates different aspects of our lives, bringing special people to us when we need them. I believe that Sarah is one of those people.
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Thanks for spreading positivity!
