Dear Reader,

The posts I have on my blog are part to the memoir that I’m writing. The intention is to cover a twelve-year span of life at Shadow of HIs Wings. I’m going to move out of that time-frame and tell you what is going on in my life today, and why you will not be reading a memoir post.

On July 11 I flew to my daughter Stacie’s home in Missouri with plans to drive with her family to Tennessee and meet up with my other children and grandchildren. It was our first family reunion in five years, and I could hardly wait to see those grandchildren.

The night before the Tennessee trip, I felt chills/fever kicking in. I went to bed and had the most horrible night ever. When my daughter woke me up in the morning, I told her they would need to go without me. Like that was going to happen with Stacie around. Because the state of my health, she took me directly to the ER at Cox Hospital. With a temp of over 103, and other vitals out of the normal range, they did test after test and put lots of goodies in the IV. They let me go home with an open invitation for admission if I regressed. No way! I did find out that Larry and Megan went on to Tennessee, and Stacie chose to stay and doctor me. By Tuesday, I needed help, so back to the hospital we went.

This is where I will cut the story short. The tests showed that I had some sort of tropical virus. The doctor on my case had experience with some of these in his ministry to Jamaica. When he learned that I lived in an area where there were lots of Dengue and Chicungunya cases, he determined I would stay in the hospital, because I could possibly be a carrier of a virus that would affect others. No complaints from me. The state of sickness that took me under soon became the worst I’d ever experienced in my entire life. My stay included days and nights of blood withdrawals for tests, antibiotic upon antibiotic (I also had a UTI), and medication by the handfull.

Most of you know my breathing history, and I entered the hospital with struggles in that area. The oxygen level would drop down while I lay there. Part of the problem was that I developed pneumonia and the extra fluid caused problems. Time to add a bit of excitement in my life—a diuretic and a stool softener. I made hourly trips to the bathroom, which were stressful, but a system developed, and Stacie kept busy.

The doctor decided I had Dengue fever because of the issues he saw in my blood. I think he felt relieved that I didn’t contract this in the US, and by the time they let me go from the hospital, I wouldn’t be a threat. They waited on those test results, but he said, “By the time we know what virus you have, you’ll be well, and it’s not going to make any difference in our treatments.”

My faithful daughter stayed with me every day from early morning to evening. I’ll probably never know why this chapter had to be in my life book, but I do know that God had me covered the whole time. I was in the best place for such medical care. The doctor had his jungle experiences to help evaluate the situation rather than the medical book insights only.

Then I took the step and asked when I could go home, and the answer came clearly: when I felt I could function on my own. I put in my request, and Stacie brought me home Wednesday. The breathing is much better, and I feel my lungs are stronger.

Thanks to the many of you who have prayed for me. That prayer covering is important. At my age and medical history, the healing process takes longer, but I’m on the path and with the grace of God, I will make the goal. Meanwhile, I’m in the comforts of Stacie’s home with plans to return to Guatemala in a couple of weeks.