The Idea of an Essay, Volume 4

Narrative & Memoir 33 The medical staff sustain hope for her recovery however, so after another long day, we head back to the hotel. At 3AM, a shrill phone ring pierces the darkness of our hotel room. I glance at my screen, and it’s Dad calling. “Hey” I answer. Dad just says, “Rebekah isn’t doing well, you all should come in.” “I’ll get everyone and we’ll be right there.” I stumble to turn on the bathroom light, and announce “Rebekah’s crashing again, Dad says we need to come in.” Rachel goes next door to wake our Aunt and Uncle, and we all grab sweaters and hop in the van. At this point, we’re all too emotionally weary and tired to even process what we’re going in for. We drive in silence, arrive, and with a hurried walk make our way through the hospital, straight into her room, where Dad explains the situation. “Rebekah was doing okay, but really started crashing at 2:30 and never really pulled out. She isn’t doing well, her pressures are dropping, and they can’t medicate her any more because of her fluid levels. This might be it.” We cry bitterly and cling to each other tightly, wishing for anything in the world to wake us up from this nightmare we are living, but we know nothing will. We grab Rebekah’s hands, bloated from liters of excess fluid and failing kidneys. Through teary eyes, we look at her still face, which once was so full of life. The doctor comes in, and proceeds to list a number of heroic measures that could be attempted. Dad talks with him and ensures him that we’re sure of her eternal destiny and that we will be reunited with her, and don’t need any heroic measures. The nurse turns off her medication sustaining an induced medical coma to make her somewhat conscious. We pray. Dad’s voice is usually strong, his figure confidently leading the path. Today, his voice cracks, his confidence shattered, he breaks down in tears, crying out to our heavenly Father. With tightly gripped hands, we continue to pray. All hurt and wandering, we come to find our only rest in the perfect and holy character of God. We read Psalm 139, Rebekah’s favorite Psalm. Its words provide both comfort, and pain, sadness and hope. More than anything, its words provide truth. Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there!