Detour

We spent the spring and summer traveling town to town, setting up at all kinds of events from fairs to grand openings. By the end of July, I was about seven months pregnant, and I was tired. My weariness grew into a feverish condition with side-splitting pain, so the carnival owner's daughter took me to the local emergency room. It was determined that I had appendicitis and needed emergency surgery. I was taken to a larger hospital so they could perform the surgery then monitor me in the obstetrics ward. After surgery, I went to my mom's house to recuperate and Tim rejoined the carnival. Since we were paid daily, and were down one worker, every day away was a blow to our finances. I stayed at my mom's for all of August, but by September I rejoined Tim on the road.

On September 20, Tim and I wanted to sit and talk away from everyone else...we unwisely chose the cab of a semi, and as I climbed in, my water broke. We went to owner of the carnival, and he took us to an emergency room. Even though I was panicky and in some pain, I was aware of one nurse scornfully telling another one "she works for a circus or something." They came and explained that since I didn't have a doctor at that hospital, nor insurance, they would be sending me to a hospital in a larger town nearby that dealt with 'people like me.' My husband and I told them we would sign any kind of release or anything...we were both rather scared about me being in labor...but they called an ambulance to transport me.

The larger hospital proved be be filled with kind and compassionate people, and on September 21, they helped me usher my oldest child, a son, into the world! Tim and I cried and laughed and all seemed well. After being dismissed, we rejoined the carnival to finish the season. I kept noticing that our son had a weak yet persistent cough, so I soon decided to leave the road and stay at my mom's. She noticed he didn't seem very well either, so we took him to a doctor...who promptly sent us to the hospital. One of his lungs seemed deflated, so they sent us on to a children's hospital. They did a scope procedure and discovered that his left lung was not only deflated, but it was also only a third of the size of the right lung. My son spent two weeks in the ICU of that hospital, with Tim coming to join us.

I wish that Tim and I had followed the advice given in 1 Peter 5:7 (Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you) and had relied on the promise given in Psalm 68:19 (Praise be to the Lord, to God our Savior, who daily bears our burdens), but instead we turned on each other, rather than turning to God and each other. The stress of an ill child, plus financial uncertainty, piled on top of a marriage with an extremely weak foundation, made for a lonely and upsetting time for each of us, and we argued or gave each other the silent treatment rather than talking it out and supporting each other.

Our son was released, with instructions about breathing treatments, heart medication, and caution about having him around crowds. One doctor told us he'd probably never even be able to go to school, because with a smaller lung he would be susceptible to infections if he were exposed to large groups of people. Sobering, indeed! Even though I was worried and sad about his condition, I was relieved that it brought about a final goodbye to traveling with a carnival.