Friday, May 28, 2010

Mercies IV

I woke up on Friday, May 21  with a stranger in the bed.
He looked like a prize fighter.  Lips swollen and eyes merely slits.  He had an angry, red  rash on his hand and arm.  His bald head was covered with red dots.
It was Reid.
His face was swollen to the point that he could not get his glasses on. 
Since Wednesday morning, we had noticed that he'd had an itchy spot on his eyelid.  Gradually, that spot spread to the point that we knew Reid had to find medical care. 
   We had an appointment that afternoon to meet with the funeral director to plan Will's service.  We hoped Reid could get back quickly enough to make that appointment.
   At first, Opa took Reid to a clinic to see if they could help.  His rash was too severe for them to care for, so they sent him to the e.r. at the nearby hospital.
   There, Reid was given steroid shots and an ice bag for his itchy hand.  They threw other treatments at him, trying to get the swelling down.
   Reid called the funeral director to explain that we would need to come later, as Reid had not yet been released from the e.r.
   Finally, around 4:00, after about 6 hours in the e.r.,  Reid and his dad arrived back at Kathy's house.  I was glad to see that the treatments were working, and Reid's puffiness had gone down some.  He was still definitely not back to normal, but I was beginning to recognize him again.  He and I had "his and her" hospital bracelets.  :-)
   We arrived at the funeral home around 4:30.  We met Damon, the director.  He was youngish--I guess about our age.  (That's young, right?  ;-)  He showed such compassion and care.  Listened to our requests for the service.  Listened to us tell first about Charity, then about Will.
   Something that really ministered to me was the fact that he never called Will "the baby" or "the body."  Damon always referred to our son as "Will."  I had never thought about how important that was.  It was very honoring.
   During a quiet moment, Reid pointed to a picture on Damon's desk.  "Is that your daughter?" he asked.
Damon answered, "Yes.  We adopted her from Guatemala."  "She's precious," we said.  "Thank you."  You could see the love he had for her.   I was very touched.  "He gets it,"  I thought.
  We set up the service for 2:00 the next day--Sat., May 22.  It was the day we were supposed to be taking a trip to Silver Dollar City to celebrate our Claire's 10th birthday.  She had plotted and planned, anticipated and dreamed of that day. 
The Lord had other plans.

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