What it really looks like. Sleepless nights writhing in pain, moaning with the rhythms as they ebb and flow.
Options are few. Call doctor to leave desperate voicemail. Pain is extreme. Please assist. And then wait.
I watch my beloved husband groan in excruciating level 9 pain throughout the night. I hear his pleas to God for help. I grow angry.
Where are you God? Why does Eric have to suffer so? God reminds me that he suffered more for his beloved son Eric. He is with Eric in the suffering. Then I hear Eric talking to His Lord in between waves. Eric already knows of God’s faithfulness. Even in the midst of blinding pain.
And then after three days’ worth of substantial suffering, we get a hold of the surgeon. He prescribes more powerful pain killers. Only a matter of hours now.
It’s the good stuff, so I must drive to pick up the prescription. This cannot be called in. Finally got it in hand.
After a few episodes of projectile vomiting, we manage to get the serious pain killers in him. He is finally asleep, after nearly three days of pure endurance. My husband is one tough pup.