Yesterday morning I stopped at the lab to drop off a specimen to be tested. The night before I hadn't gotten much sleep. My stomach hurt a lot and I was nervous about how I was going to fit everything I had to do into one day. I had a long day with several important meetings I needed to attend, plus the test and then getting the results.
First stop was the lab. As soon as I got back into my car, I burst into tears. I cried all of the way to the church. Then I wiped off my face long enough to appear half way normal so I wouldn't scare off customers when I entered Pastor Peter's business, which is downstairs from the church. Pastor Peter was there waiting for the meeting with my home church. He took one look at me and told me to sit down. His poor assistant, my friend Martita, didn't know what to say.
We sat down. I told him I had been up all night. In fact I really hadn't slept or eaten since Tuesday. And I was so scared to take that medicine because people say it makes you feel like you are going to die. Then I started crying again. Pastora Ruth arrived at that moment and saw I was falling apart. She asked what was going on and I explained I was scared and tired and my stomach hurt. She said, "Let's pray." We grabbed hands, bowed our heads and she prayed. Right then the team from my home church walked in. They thought I was crying from the joy of seeing them, which was better than letting them know the truth. I was having a breakdown about the idea of having to take that medicine for the bacteria.
My home church from the US had an amazing time of prayer with my Honduran Pastors. Pastora Ruth explained that although they are here to serve, she would like to serve them. She read from the bible about Jesus washing the disciples feet. Then she prayed over each team member. It appeared that each member of the team was touched by the Holy Spirit in that time. I was happy they got to experience my new church home and understand why it's such a good fit for me.
Afterward we went to lunch.
In the afternoon I had the predication class. The mission team went to see the sights and dropped me back off at my church. Unfortunately the electricity was off, so we couldn't have class. Pastora Ruth couldn't use the projector or make copies of her presentation for us with no electricity. We had a nice time of prayer instead.
We prayed again for my tummy, which still hurt but was better with the meds I got Friday.
I remembered when I was in kindergarten. One morning my mom was dressing me for school and she said, "Uh oh. You can't go to school today. You have chicken pox." I didn't want to miss a day of school so I did what any reasonable five year old would do. I stamped my feet and said, "I will NOT have chicken pox."
I remember my mom laughed and told me, "I am sorry honey, but you do have chicken pox." There was more foot stomping and declaring that I would NOT have chicken pox. But Mom was right. I did. I had chicken pox.
This time, in my little girl head, I wanted to stomp my foot and tell God, "I will NOT have the bacteria. I will NOT." That is basically the way I prayed. With no foot stomping.
The prayer time lasted a long time. We prayed for the team's time in Honduras. We just prayed and prayed. It was relaxing. At one point Pastora Ruth asked Octavio to get out the banners (flags) and we worshiped with flags. It was my first time to do that.
The lights came on eventually, but by then it was too late. We spent the rest of class time, and more, sitting around talking and joking like I have never joked before with those people. There was a lot of teasing and we were all cracking up really hard. I loved seeing Pastora Ruth almost falling out of her seat from laughing so hard. It was awesome.
On the way home I stopped at the medical clinic to get my test results. I expected to get a typical Honduran run-around. However, God completely cleared my path in that clinic. When I walked in there was a long line at the cashier. I took my place at the end of the line. Right away the cashier noticed me, called me from the end of the line, and said, "You are here for results, right? You need to go through the double doors and talk to the man back there."
I was grateful to be pulled out of that line. At the back desk there was no wait at all. The man took my receipt, reached into a box and pulled out an envelope. He told me to wait in the waiting room for a doctor. On my way to the waiting room I looked at the results. Praise God! It said for bacteria Pylori - NEGATIVE. Just yesterday the doctor told me I had every single symptom and he was sure I had that bacteria. Only because the treatment is so rough, he wanted to do the test first.
I called Pastora Ruth and Pastor Peter to tell them the good news - no bacteria and best of all, no medicine for the bacteria! I thanked them for praying with me and for me over the past two days. I do not have to take the horrible medicine that makes you feel near death! Hooray!!
The doctor called me in as soon as I got off the phone with Pastora Ruth. He had no other patients. No five hour wait today.
He had me lie down on a table. First he poked, then tapped at my stomach. By the time he was done I was worried again. It hurt all over in random, strange places that made no sense to me. Appendicitis? An ovarian cyst that was about to explode?
"What is wrong with me?" I asked. The doctor kind of laughed to dispel my obvious concern.
He said, "You are full of gas. We can't know what it is caused by. Probably stress or anxiety. It could be diet. But your colon is very irritated. That is why you have pain and your stomach is distended."
He gave me another medicine to take for two days. and said I should continue the one I started the day before. He said I will need to watch my diet and lifestyle to find out what exactly is causing this.
I told him I am just glad I don't have to take that awful medicine for the bacteria. He had to take it once and it was absolutely horrible, he said. The way he explained it, medicine is so strong it kills everything and makes you feel like it is killing you. And that was coming from a doctor.
I stopped by the cash register (which now had no line whatsoever!) to pick up my new medicine. Then I had a moment of worry. On the internet it had said tests can be skewed if you took PeptoBismol. I had taken a ton. What if I really did have the bacteria and it just didn't show up? I had to get back into that emergency room and ask the doctor, or I would never have peace. How could I get back in there? I watched for nurses to walk by, hoping to grab one and ask her to take me back to the doctor.
Just as they handed me the medicine, guess who was headed out of the building? My doctor! God showed me favor through that whole medical visit. The doctor stopped and kindly answered my question. No, the test would not give a false negative for PeptoBismol, he said.
Relieved and ready to move forward with treatment I headed home. My stomach is still sore, but at least I do not have the bacteria. I just need to watch what I eat and relax.
God had my back yesterday. He heard my cries and He answered. Praise the Lord I do not have the bacteria.
