Throwing Needles

My time in hospital felt like another marathon ahead of me.

Days in a hospital feel endless and packed with all sorts of drama. I had to take each hour and its challenges as it came. My days revolved around antibiotics. Four 30 minute doses of meropenem and two 3 and 1/2 hours of vacomycin. As soon as I was unhooked from the antibiotics I’d be off walking around the ward.

The last time I needed this much antibiotics I had a PICC line put in through my arm, a tube that fed the medicine directly to my heart that would then pump it around the body fast and it also meant I could be home. However, this time I didn’t get the PICC line in time but several cannulas. The first three days were fine, but the problem started when the antibiotics started leaking from my arm. The area that had the needle in tissued due to my small veins and movement. Instead the antibiotics infused into the surrounding tissue. It essentially swelled up preventing anything from passing through and only going out the way it came in. It was ok, I handled it, so they moved the cannula to my hand.

The side effects of vancomycin, which is a pretty strong antibiotic started to take effect. It would cause me to throw up so they gave me anti sickness medicine before each dose. One night, I was sleepy and about to nod off when the nurse came to give me my next dose, she administered the anti sickness medicine through my cannula and I immediately was wide awake in pain, my veins started to burn and sting, I burst into tears and looked over at my hand which swelled up in an instant.

Tearfully, I sat through the next cannula being put in, this time my other hand. I was ok, I could handle it.

Another effect of this antibiotic is that it can cause irritation to the vein as it goes in. The drip was on the slowest setting (3 + hours) to minimise the pain as it went in, but the next morning it got too intense, and my hand swelled up again.

I was less ok, sighed my way through the next hunt of a vein. Within a day it swelled up. My arms and hands HURT.

I was not ok.

I felt so pathetic and weak. I was surrounded by people who were in more of a desperate and dependent state, some couldn’t remember, some couldn’t speak, some couldn't walk. And there I was, an able bodied person crying over swollen hands and arms. Another morning my arm couldn’t take the medicine, I cried in pain and in defeat as they tried another area but couldn't find a vein anywhere. Several attempts but nothing. My arms and hands hurt and were swollen so much that I couldn’t move them. The nurse put a pillow on my lap and my arms just lifelessly rested on them. I let the tears fall, no tissue to catch them and just cried and cried. Each time the cannula failed meant a delay in the antibiotics, vancomycin was administered every 12 hours, so if my 10 am dose was delayed, it meant that my next dose was 11 pm or later.

The doctor came by and found a vein for the cannula as it was no longer an easy task for the nurses to do. I sent a message out to pray for my veins as I had a week left at this point and I already had been through several failed attempts and 5 cannuals.

On Monday 12th I was having my 2nd dose of meropenem for the day when my cannula tissued again. The head nurse tried to put another one in but hit my bone in my left hand, he tried about 3 times before he said, ‘Let's take a break.’ RELIEF. I got up and walked throughout the ward trying not to cry, I did a couple of laps and walked back to my bay, as I walked through the doorway I burst into tears as I saw my oldest sister, her husband and my niece waiting for me by my bed. I ran to them and they hugged and held me. I told them the plight of the moments just before and they comforted me. The nurse came back to try again but saw me with my family and said, ‘go outside and spend time with them.’ We walked away from the ward to a courtyard outside. It was November but not that cold. It was just the 4 of us out there and I broke down again and exclaimed:

‘It feels like the devil is mad at me for not breaking through two brain surgeries so he’s throwing a bunch of needles at me in frustration and I’m starting to crack!!’

I knew I needed something steadfast, sure and solid to get me through the last couple of days. My brother in law said, ‘You know this kind of reminds me of Paul in Corinthians where he talks about a thorn in the flesh, Paul realised that in our weaknesses, his strength is perfected.’

2 Corinthians 12:1-10:

‘7 Because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, for this reason, to keep me from exalting myself, there was given me a thorn in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to torment me—to keep me from exalting myself! 8 Concerning this I implored the Lord three times that it might leave me. 9 And He has said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.” Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. 10 Therefore I am well content with weaknesses, with insults, with distresses, with persecutions, with difficulties, for Christ’s sake; for when I am weak, then I am strong.’

That was it, that was what I needed. I threw my hands up in the air and shouted into the crisp November air ‘ I am weak ! It's official, I . AM . WEAK !’

I knew in that moment I was armed with the final weapon I needed to make it through to the very end. I read it over and over again and claimed God as my strength.

Armed with that truth and a couple more pep talks I marched back into my bay, refreshed and ready. When the time came later that night to put the cannula in I sat up straight at the end of my bed, my wounded arms outstretched with a new bold faith. Lo and behold the needle went straight through the vein and popped up as a bulge.

She tried again and it seemed to stick but then a mad rush of pain came sprouting down my vein and she had to remove it. She was determined to get it in so she tried again and it failed. I had to wait for the doctor on call that night.

Now, I just had this amazing revelation and insight into the word of God, yet in the moment I needed it the most to shine through it, I was still in the same situation as before. The only difference was, I was different in the circumstance. Many times we can’t change the situation we are in, but what we can change is how we are in the situation. My eyes were focused on a hope, a truth and a victory and nothing was going to get in my eyesight that said otherwise. The setbacks may still keep coming but I know my God is faithful and what he says, he will do. I kept holding on. There is a line in the song Take Courage by Kristen DiMarco that says it perfectly: ‘...Hold onto your hope as your triumph unfolds, He's never failing,He's never failing…’

Later that night, the doctor came into the room and exclaimed “I did this yesterday!” and started flicking every inch of my hands and arms looking for any sign of a vein. He found a spot just above my elbow at a weird angle and got it in, impressed with himself he said ‘ No one knows your veins like I do’ (Since he had put in several cannuals in the previous days).

This was my miracle vein, he said it was quite deep and therefore wider and should last the last two days I needed meds, he said not to straighten it and preserve it as much as possible. My mission was accepted and I did not straighten that arm for 2 whole days, I carefully carried it with the rest of my body and just kept blessing it and thanking my vein for holding up! I am so thankful to all that prayed for my miracle vein that night. God answered our prayers!

The cannula lasted for the remaining days and when my blood was tested on the 16th November, my infection levels were better than normal! I could go home again!!

We all have some sort of a breaking point, where our own strength, as mighty as it may be, just can’t brave it any longer. God is always at the other end, ready to catch, carry and run you to the finish line.