We’d had a long day already and my body was weary. I sat on the couch, planning to go to bed soon. Our contact popped his head in the doorframe. He was speaking quickly as he told me, “We are going to the hospital. The girls are asleep.”
I jumped up quickly at the commotion. He elaborated: “Our friend’s daughter drank some bleach. They have no way of getting to the hospital, so we are driving there to take them now.” With about 2 seconds of fore thought, I asked if I should go— could I be of any help? They said “sure”, but were walking out the door. I threw my teammates’ shoes on, as I flung my body into their van, I felt a small prompting in my spirit. Bring activated charcoal.
“Wait. I have one thing to give her that I think might help” I said in one breath as I sprinted back in the house. I tore through my medical kit and grabbed the rubber-banded baggie, tucking it quickly in my pocket.
We drove quickly down the main road and turned on “Vulture”. We ran in the house, and I picked up the daughter, Karis, because the mama was shaken. I administered two capsules of activated charcoal, and she took them easily. Thank you, Jesus. I carried her into the car and put her in my lap. I whispered prayers on the way to the hospital, and spoke to the mama. “I know it is scary to see her throw up so much, but it’s actually a good sign. It means she doesn’t have as much of the bleach in her body now”.
We walked, sat, walked, sat, walked, sat at the hospital. I kept Karis close to me, talking to her sweetly. About half an hour after the initial check in, she was finally seen by a physician. Praise God that she’d been able to take the charcoal so much earlier. The emergency room sent her to be watched in the pediatric ward— they said their intervention would have been the charcoal!
Arriving at the pediatric ward, we waited another 45 minutes until she was seen by the doctor. The little one was asleep now in my arms as the doctor examined her. When he said she’d need her blood checked, Karis’ mama asked if I could hold the daughter. I held her close and tight as the doctor put the needle in her hand. She flinched only slightly, and I gave mama a reassuring look.
The next morning, my contact got a call. Karis was doing well and was able to be released from the hospital. Apparently, she was also asking for me: “where’s nice auntie?”.
So thankful for the holy spirit cluing me in, providing the charcoal, and allowing me to love Karis and her mama that night. Plus, I got an awesome nickname.
Love,
Nice auntie
