I'm back - Part 2

We got to the hospital about 7:00 pm. It was packed. I commented to the nurse about how full the ER was. "Yeah, and it's not even flu season yet," she lamented.

They literally did not have a bed for my sister until after midnight. They gave her something to help her relax, and I saw to it she was settled and comfortable. I told her I was going to try to catch a little sleep and would be back in the morning. She said she'd be ok.

I got in bed about 12:30 am, only to be awakened by a call around 4:00 am.

"We need to know what you want us to do if your sister codes," said the nurse on the other end of the phone."She's struggling to breathe and won't respond to us when we talk to her."

That was quick. Wasn't expecting that. I quickly jumped up, gave my husband a kiss and headed back to the hospital.

Thursday was a long day. Especially for my sister. She had to suffer and struggle for too long before the morphine was sent. I thought I was going to lose my Christian witness.

"There is absolutely nothing you can do for my sister at this point, except to help her with her pain. How long does it take to get morphine from the second to the third floor? Do I need to go down there and get it myself?"

It took about 45 minutes, but that was 45 minutes too long. I can only pray that God's grace helped her to spiritually endure while her flesh was enduring the pain. I can say this. My sister was one tough lady. She was a fighter.

Once the morphine was administered, she settled down and quit struggling. Thank you, God, for the good that drugs can sometimes do.

My brother and my dad were there all day with us. Plus two very dear friends and a host of others who came in and out throughout the day, offering a hug or a prayer.

Death is an ugly foe. I thank God that it has been conquered through the cross and will one day be thrown into the lake of fire for all eternity.

My sister left quietly and is now in heaven as surely as I am writing this post. She knew Who her Lord and Saviour was, and now she's in His presence, along with my mom who went before her. I'm a little jealous about that one. I miss my mom. I had whispered to my sister earlier that day, "Tell Mama I'm a believer now, and that I'll see her soon." Hope she remembered. But considering that heaven is described as unimagineable to us, if she forgot, that's ok too.

So now, my sister's perfect...and I'm not.

There's even humor in sadness. My sister would love to tell me that she's perfect and I'm not...except that now that she's perfect, it wouldn't occur to her, would it?