In the few weeks I had between planning the hospital visit and actually going, I thought I came to terms with the fact that I was going to be in the hospital. In the few days and hours leading up to being admitted, I was a jumbled up mess of feelings. I was nervous, scared, frustrated, disappointed... overall, I just had an ominous feeling about the whole situation. I am a procrastinator, not of schoolwork, but of big life events. I don't like dealing with heavy situations until they actually happen, so I just pretend that everything is okay until the last minute. Even though I have proven this to myself time and time again, I still don't realize that my confidence and bravery is just a front for a scared little girl. So, until I was physically in the hospital, I was okay with the idea of it. I chose to see it as just another course of medicine, until I was sitting in a hospital room waiting to get a needle put in my arm. The reality of me, a 17 year old girl, being in a hospital for a week did not hit until then. That is when the jumbled mess of feelings overwhelmed me.
I don't like needing help from other people. I like doing things by myself, and I am very, very stubborn about it. Throughout the course of my pain, treatments, and side effects, I have had to learn to ask for help... not only from my friends and family, but from God as well. While I was in the hospital, I asked God for courage, peace of mind, strength, as well as support from the people in my life. Boy, did God come through! God eased every inch of that week, starting and ending with the PICC line. Starting off the week, I was warned about the possible side effects from the medicine, treatment, and hospital routine. While the nurses and doctors tried their best to make it seem simple, every step was a complex one. I could have had a bad reaction to the DHE, causing vomiting, weakness, stiffness, headaches (ironically), the PICC line could have gotten infected, then needed to be removed and a new one put in (this could have happened multiple times throughout the week), I could have been bored out of my mind... etc. etc. Even though I saw the possible shortcomings of the week, I stayed relatively calm. I still find it shocking that I did not have a breakdown while I was at the hospital. I think the reason is God. While the little girl inside of me was scared, the big girl with God on her side was brave.
We all have a scared little girl in us (yes, even guys, metaphorically of course, they would have little boys but you get the jist). One of the best parts of being a human is that we are able to be scared and courageous at the same time. When we are scared, yet courageous, we are brave. God doesn't need bravery, because he is never scared. I'm learning that it is okay to be scared. God understands that we are scared and he sympathizes, but God is also just. You have to prove that you are courageous before you can be brave. Don't worry though, because although He won't solve your problems for you, He will be with you every step of the way. God was with me in the hospital, showing me how to be brave in the face of some scary stuff. Through every dose of DHE, He was there. In every friend and family I saw, He was there. He was even there in my nurses and doctors, whether they believed in Him or not. You cannot see Him or hear Him, but you can feel Him. I can guarantee you, He is there.
"Be strong and let your heart take courage, All you who hope in the LORD."
Psalm 31:24
Love always,
Sierra
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