This has been one of the most emotional few days of my life.… As many of you know, I came to Albany for my sister Claudia’s surgery. Because of her disabilities and medical history, anesthesia always carries additional risks, so there was a lot of prayer leading up to the procedure.
The surgery itself went well.
Then came recovery.
Shortly after arriving in PACU, Claudia coded.
Those are words no family member ever wants to hear.
The team responded quickly, and thankfully she recovered. Because of what happened, they allowed Mom and me to be with her during recovery. At one point, she began declining again, and I was able to advocate for her and alert the staff. It was a frightening few hours, and I don’t think either Mom or I realized how tightly we had been holding our breath until we knew she was stable.
As she slowly emerged from anesthesia, she said something that stopped us in our tracks.
For months after Dad died, Claudia would often call out, “Daddy, where are you?” We would gently remind her that Daddy was in Heaven.
As she recovered, she began talking about Dad.
Then she mentioned Janet, her former foster mother who passed away several years ago.
A little while later she looked at us and simply said, “I was okay. Jesus was there with me.”
I don’t know what to do with that other than treasure it.
I don’t need to explain it.
I don’t need to prove it.
I can simply be grateful.
Grateful that she is here.
Grateful that she came through.
Grateful that I was there.
And then, because apparently life decided we needed some comic relief after all of that, the hospital ceiling started leaking.
At first Claudia said, “I’m wet.”
Naturally, I assumed she meant her pull-up.
Then I noticed water running down some tubing behind the bed.
My first thought was that something had sprung a leak.
As I started investigating, I realized the water wasn’t coming from the equipment at all.
It was coming from the ceiling.
A moment later it turned from a drip into a steady stream.
Then a gush.
Without thinking, I grabbed the nearest cup and started catching water while simultaneously unhooking Claudia from the wall oxygen so we could move her.
The nurse looked absolutely horrified.
Mom and I, on the other hand, were somewhere between exhausted and amused.
Then Mom said the sentence that nearly gave me a heart attack.
“It’s okay. Our roof leaks all the time.”
I slowly turned my head.
“Mom…”
“What?”
“Do not say that. We are in a hospital.”
“I know.”
“Where people document things.”
“I was just saying…”
“No. Stop saying.”
The nurse was standing right there while my care-management-trained brain immediately envisioned a home safety evaluation, a social work consult, and multiple follow-up phone calls.
Meanwhile Mom just shrugged.
“Well, it does.”
To be fair, she’s not wrong.
Their roof did leak this spring.
It’s being replaced in two weeks.
We simply wanted to get through Claudia’s surgery first.
Still, in that moment, while water poured from the hospital ceiling and I stood there holding a cup under a waterfall, my greatest concern somehow became preventing my mother from accidentally creating a social determinant of health issue that didn’t exist.
Eventually we learned they had been testing fire sprinklers upstairs and a pipe had broken.
The nurse moved Claudia to another bay.
The ceiling stopped raining.
The crisis passed.
And somehow, after one of the scariest days our family has experienced in a long time, Mom and I found ourselves laughing.
Looking back, that’s probably what I will remember most.
Not just the fear.
Not just the relief.
But the way God carried us through both.
The tears.
The prayers.
The memories of Dad.
The mention of Jesus.
The laughter.
The leaking ceiling.
The cup.
The nurse.
Mom.
And Claudia, right in the middle of it all.
God is good…all the time.
