A smile is not always welcomed where I was. Trauma is. Chairs lined in single file against the wall expect you. Beckoning is not allowed. A hacking cough sounds next to me as I wait on the chair conveyor belt of the emergency room. Not knowing what comes next makes you listen to everything and watch everyone. No one know whether courtesy or friendliness is allowed. No one speaks unless spoken to.
Emergency here seems slow yet steady. More come in, while very little leaves. My file has a yellow sticker on which means I'm not that sore, even though the pain stops me from leaning back in my chair. Yellow means I can wait...at least four hours, so the chart on the wall screams at me. My Mother who has been keeping me company leaves, making the world seem smaller and scarier to me. I wish I didn't have to be here. I look around, taking it all in again. Poverty no longer chooses colour, age, area or money. We all sit here, in the same boat, yet world's apart, us yellow stickers.
Finally, it's my turn, just to find out they want me to stay. I'm taken to the actual emergency/trauma ward. Fear fills me to the brim as organised chaos rushes in front of my eyes. Bodies on beds fill every inch like a packing factory. Doctors and Nurses rush around, poking and prodding their packages. I am ordered to sit on a plastic chair. I obey as I wonder where I fit in here. No explanation and no compassion scares me more. There is just no time for it. Please don't make me go into the factory. Before I can run, I'm taken to a bed rammed against another one housing a masked man. Is he contagious? I hang on to my bag like a lost school girl, making me lay stiff.
I'm told to put a gown on but there is no where to change and no curtain to close. I won't do it. A nurse tells me to follow her into the store room to get changed. I'm starting to feel like a prisoner instead of a patient. I return to my bed which they have kept for me. A drips is plugged into my hand and once again, I am wheeled around to a different area. Still anxious and hanging on to my bag and clothes, I lay wide-eyed. A sticker is stuck on my bed as it seems I have made it to the parking area. Now, I wait, and with no further explanation, I find out that I have to wait for a urologist to come and see me. How long will this take? I ask but no one knows and no one can guess.
My Mother comes back and tears form in my eyes as I make the decision that I can't be here. Beds on either side line up with women who too are waiting for a doctor. On the opposite side, are beds with men in them. No curtains keep us private. This area feels like a hostel room. We are all parked, going no where slowly. I can't take it anymore. I sign myself out and leave, with a heavy heart as I wish I could take everyone with me.
This experience reminded me how lucky I am to have options, how to take better care of the body God blessed me with and how we need God no matter where a tornado takes us.
It reminded me too to have faith over fear......
I sometimes forget that God didn't say life would be easy but He did say Follow Me, Trust Me and I will bless you.
This happened in one day and I never prayed so hard as I did this day.
What has been your tornado lately? Where has it got you spinning to?
So, don't worry, because I am with you.
Don't be afraid, because I am your God.
I will make you strong and will help you;
I will support you with my right hand that saves you.
Isaiah 41:10
