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So now after 5 weeks in hospital I was ready to go home! I could walk without assistance  and eat and my health had improved, now I just needed a mid line in my arm so that a district nurse could administer my antibiotics from home. A mid line is a small tube, the size of a vein that goes from the area just above your elbow to the top of your shoulder, I had this in my right arm. The procedure was simple, just very uncomfortable to have to sit through. I had a great team looking after me and I would have to go back and see them once a week to get it cleaned.

So I was finally dressed in something other than pajamas and wore shoes instead of slippers! I was just sitting waiting on the end of my bed to be discharged. It felt like forever and I couldn’t wait to get home. Waiting for me outside was my own ‘taxi,’ driven by AC who made ‘Naomi’s Taxi’ poster on one side of our van. Heads up! AC is like an older brother to the Martin family, he was a key character in helping everyone on the home front with maintaining the house and making sure everyone was fed and doing alright!

When I got home there were a few people from church who I consider family waiting for me, some I hadn’t seen at all for weeks, others I only got the chance to see one or two times. It was emotional as you can imagine. There were posters, loud celebrations and we spent about 30 mins praising God and just worshipping Him for all that He had done and taken me through. Being in my home again was weird, it was like coming back from a long holiday and getting settled back into home, but I definitely didn’t come back from a nice vacation.

It was a great time and I remember just sitting and taking everything in, looking at all the happy faces and happy tears all around me. I was home, it was a reality not a distant dream anymore.

Starting from Scratch

The operation affected the entire right side of my body. My muscles were practically non existent, I was super skinny some 50kg (110 pounds), I couldn’t swallow because of the breathing tube during the operation and I couldn’t walk. I didn’t know this would be the case, I thought I would have the tumour removed, rest up and get out of hospital. That was way too much naivety and wishful thinking. I had to overcome each and every one of these areas and it wasn’t always pretty or easy to do.

My body was a little bent to one side (weird I know) and had to be straightened up. This happened because during the operation I was lying on my one side the whole time and caused me to be a little hunched on that side, plus that side was swollen for a while too. I had a great physio (physical therapist) who would come in each day and help me get back on my feet.  The first time I walked was with a zimmer frame (walker)! I found it quite funny partly because I never thought being a young 19 year old that I would ever need to be dependent on one before, I actually needed it to keep me up! I remember thinking to myself, ‘So this is how they work!’

My physio wanted to get me off of the zimmer frame as quickly as possible so that I don’t become too reliant on it. When I walked it was slow and I needed someone to hold me up as I didn’t have enough strength in my legs just yet, plus I got tired very quickly. It took time but I made a choice everyday to get up and my mum would help me walk around the ward, swinging my arms and not walking like a cripple.

I had a feeding tube in because I couldn’t swallow. I was plugged into a machine that basically fed me pretty much constantly but at a slow pace, all the nutrients you needed - plus I had a cannula in (which I called my octopus because it had many different tubes leading from the one in my arm) giving me some more of whatever I needed.  So whenever I needed to go up to the bathroom I had to wait to be unhooked from everything. One time I was super desperate to go, that as soon as they unplugged everything I got up real fast and started walking too quickly for my state and not in a straight line and started to fall when the nurse caught me before I hit the ground! My mind was so renewed and confident of the complete healing of God that my body still had to catch up. My mum was a little surprised that I could move so fast already! But I had to take things slowly and get used to walking in a straight line, up the stairs, around corners and judging spacial awareness. It took a couple of weeks to be perfect but I got there in the end (sometimes I still bump into my friends when walking but it's not that often).

The next big challenge was eating. Apart from having the heaviest dose of antibiotics that can be administered in a hospital, my eating was holding me back. I got frustrated at times, it's a thing that we are born into this world doing, something that you don’t go to school for, it's something that comes naturally to pretty much everyone. The tiniest amount of water could make me choke and it wasn’t all that great when you have a feeding tube as it would bring that up too and it was not a nice taste. This was tough. I constantly had to commit it to God and again and again, take it step by step. Every other day I would try and take just a tiny sip of water some days were successful, some days weren’t. About two weeks into not eating I was told that a Speech And Language Therapists (SALT) were coming to see how I was getting on. She came in with a lot of cool gadgets to test how I was doing. They had to put a camera down my nose so that they could see what my throat was doing when I tried to swallow, they wanted to make sure that my breathing airway was closed so that I didn’t get anything in my lungs. She dyed some milk blue so that it was easier to come up on the screen. (FYI Milk is easier to swallow than water as it is thicker) It worked! I could take a sip and swallow it fine, but when asked to take a gulp that was a disaster as I was choking all of the place and gasping for breath, it was very dramatic for something so small! But I didn't let that discourage me, I was thrilled in the small victory that I was able to even take a sip! To me that was still worth celebrating over.

The following day, as the doctors were making their routinely rounds they came to my bed along with 6+ people talking about me. It was weird because they would always look at you but you couldn’t always quite hear what they were saying. sometimes it was the most exciting part of my day as it was an update on how I was doing. They discussed were I was at with eating but this one nurse, who wasn’t the best caring person in the world decided to give her point of view on how things went the day before, she said ‘It didn't go well, she choked and it wasn’t a successful outcome’. I was fuming on the inside, I swallowed a sip, A SIP!!  I piped up and shouted Hey! for the doctor to come over, he looked a little surprised that I did but he came. I said that I WAS able to swallow even though it was a little, but the nurse was persistent that I would still need a feeding tube. The doctor paused looked at me then said to that nurse ‘Get her something to eat’ I was SO happy to hear that I was going to actually eat something. The nurse reluctantly got me orange jello and fed it to me. I think that was a little bit of a kick in the teeth for her as she stood there saying I couldn’t eat!

From then on it was still a bit of a struggle as it would take me over an hour to eat a small amount of food, and it was very painful for my back muscles every time. I would do the simple act of bringing the fork to mouth and it was so painful. There were times I would just cry because it hurt so bad and I couldn’t afford to take any more medication on top of what I was taking, my mum had to feed me most of the time in the beginning, but I had to push past the pain because the only way the muscle will retain its memory of the action, is to repeat it. So many meals were eaten through tears of pain but I wouldn’t give up.   

My diet mostly consisted of Oreos, milk and macaroni cheese (they served the best I have ever had in my life in the hospital!) my aunt always got me sleeves of Oreo cookies when she came and saw me, my mum once caught me with a wrapper of an entire sleeve of Oreos (that I got earlier that day) just before dinner. But I assured her I would still eat my dinner, I love food and the fact that I could eat again! It was the first time in months that I was eating properly again and it was such a wonderful sensation, like I had never tasted before and then all of a sudden I could and it was wonderful. It was still a tough thing to get used and took about 2 ½ months to eat properly, like I did before.

The God we serve is a good God.

God Provides our Soldiers

I got moved to a special care ward which was only 3 patients to 1 nurse. What we found with our nurses was that 70% of them were Christians, which is highly rare in this country. At the time I was in hospital there was a ban for ‘religious’ people to share their faith openly with patients, only if consented. These women of God were Holy Spirit filled, baptised in water, speakers of the word and were incredible. It especially touched my mums heart to know that I was in good hands and gave them permission to speak to me, encourage me and build me up when she or my family couldn’t be there. Which was definitely needed at times. Being in a hospital at night isn’t fun, but I had to be brave each night. I found that some nights would be busier than days, patients brought in and out, or little commotions happening here or there, I was living a whole new different lifestyle, one that I had to get used to, but not settle in.

One night when I was sad and feeling lonely a nurse started singing ‘I am cared for by the one who made the universe..’ I just looked at her and started to cry out of my one eye. Little did she know that God so used that song to keep me in peace and put things in perspective that He is the Great Father of nations that takes time to care for each and everyone of us. It was a God orchestrated moment and He knew what I need to be reminded of, to remain steadfast and not to so easily waver in difficult times.

I was doing well and slowly working my way to the door we joked, I would move round from ward to ward getting closer and closer until the next ward was right next to the exit. But that night I could feel that something wasn’t right with my body, it was struggling and all I could do was pray under my breath, I was too weak to try and get anyones attention so I just asked God to do it for me. Not long after nurse Joe came round to do his checks when he noticed I had a high fever, it was 39c when it should be 37c. Quickly the doctors rushed in and started trying to figure out what was going on. I was in and out of consciousness and wasn’t quite sure what was going on either. I just let them figure it out and take care of me. I knew it was serious when they said they had to do a lumbar puncture/spinal tap - I had no idea what that was but I said OK, you can do whatever it takes to figure it out.

I found out a bit later that this was it for my mum. She called our Pastor and just simply said ‘I’m weary, how much more can we take? Is God really for us?’ She couldn’t stand by and watch them put this giant needle in my back extracting fluid. It was too much. Some may say they are valid questions and we all reach this point, but God is always quick to respond and meet us where we are at. After encouraging her and building her up, one of the Christian nurses got my mom's attention and told her to sit down, as my mum recalls it, she leans on her arm rest and starts pointing at her in the face saying ‘Don’t you dare give up! Don’t you dare give up now, I have heard you praying and asking God for a miracle and He will see it through to the end!’

SIDE NOTE: We saw my nurses as soldiers on the front line with us, in the thick of it giving us the support I need both physically and spiritually and for my mum too. It was such a blessing from God to have the support right there in the hospital, at a time when it was almost like walking on eggshells to be open about your faith.  But I don’t want to forget or overlook all the other people that stood with our family in prayer too, our close friends and family and those who are afar, all stood in the gap and upheld us in prayer.  I felt like I had my own 24 hour prayer system going with all the different time zones, God knew what I needed and no matter what time of day it was for me, He would prompt people to pray and I am so ever grateful and thankful for that. This time was so special to me, where I saw how powerful prayer is and how it can make a huge difference and impact despite whatever we may think could hinder it.

Now back to my mum in the chair. She was a little taken back, but that's what she needed, she had to get shaken out of a state of despair and deal with the task that was set before her. She was able then to be in the room with my when they did the LP and a couple of other tests. The infectious disease consultants came and advised that it is suspected meningitis in the brain, but the fluid they took would be able to confirm it.

This meant I was moved back into the special ward, back to the start, further away from the exit.

I was still in a bad state, my neck started to spaz and I couldn’t move it, I had no control over it and I was also profusely sweating, they had to change the pillow case several times. That day our favourite nurse, came in for a visit and was surprised to see my name on the bed list. She came over to where we were, asked no questions and grabbed my mom's hand and prayed for complete total healing. After praying and believing that when two or more are gathered and pray in Jesus’ name He will answer you. Believing that simple truth and taking His word as he says it they then stood there and watched expectantly to see God move.

It took about two hours and then all of a sudden as mum was sitting at the end of my bed, and I was laying with my head to one side, I raised my head - looked to her and started chatting. Now you have to understand that my head was stuck to one side, moving at random times and in awkward ways as I dipped in and out of consciousness, it was uncomfortable but I was awake! I started talking like no time had past (this fever stretched over a period of two days). I was completely better, they tested my temperature and it went down to 36.9c (which is good!).

To completely confirm my healing, the infectious disease consultants came back and said that the fluid in the petri dish never grew or showed any signs of meningitis and that fluid was taken even before we asked God for complete healing! It was incredible! A Miracle!

Now because we are in the world and they don’t necessarily see things from our perspective, the consultants wanted to put me on antibiotics ‘just in case’ it happened again and to completely be sure that I was in the all clear, where in my heart I already knew I was completely healed and there was evidence. Dr M wasn’t too happy but he didn’t overstep his position and trusted their decision. But this started a snowball effect of other situations I had to overcome all because of their ‘just in case’ outlook.

I will Bless the Lord at ALL times

When I woke up it was the strangest thing. I was in a whole new playing field of pain, every inch hurt, even my toes. Apparently the first thing I said was ‘I need painkillers’ but the first thing I remember saying is ‘I can’t move my neck!’ I had no strength to turn my head to the side, and I noticed my speech was slurred. I was OK, but it was a little scary.

The operation took 12 hours long and 3 doctors rotated during the operation. My facial nerves were wrapped around the tumour, so they had to carefully pull away each nerve, not damaging it and remove the tumour piece by piece. Again, I so saw the hand of God on my life, I envisioned that it was his careful, precise hands operating and guiding the doctors. Every single one of my nerves were saved AND they got the WHOLE tumour out!!

PRAISE GOD!! **Cue happy dance**

It was a relief to hear that news, and another reminder that I am cared for by the one who made the universe.

I was lying there in the bed, with a bunch of wires, monitors and gadgets doing things for me, helping me breathe, keeping circulation in my blood, feeding me nutrients amongst other things. I thought to myself, ‘So..it's done..I’m here, lying in this bed, not being able to do a single normal thing...what shall I do?’

Holy Spirit answered: ‘Bless the Lord.’

Me: ‘I can?’

I thought for a little bit and realised that in Psalm 34 we are called to Bless the Lord at ALL times, and this was an ALL time. I thought about it some more and realised that, if I can bless the Lord at the lowest moment in my life, I can’t see it get much worse than this, than I don't have a reason to NOT to bless the Lord!.

It was a bold thing to do, but that is what He asked us to do and He never gives us anything we can’t do and so I did. I found that my spirit and my heart were made glad and full of hope, love and the peace of God. I felt so alive when all I was saying was blessings to God and it lead me to remind myself of all the other good things God has done in my life.

Those two days in Critical Care were blessed times I spent with God, I was a awake a couple of hours at a time but all I did and could do was talk to God and talk to my mum, dad or the nurse about God. It was a step of faith to speak out and to take God at his word and really live it, we are called to such higher and greater things that God has made possible for us to reach.

I personally believe it is what got me out of critical care so quickly and such a key moment in my life to remember that where when I am feeling slightly down, or in pain I am quick to Bless the Lord, it's like I made a pact with myself that cannot be broken.

Part Two: The Hardest Goodbye

Talk about hard goodbyes. We drove to the hospital the night before her operation. It was unsettling as we were saying goodbye but we knew we would see her again. It had to be short, which made it even harder, we had to go in one at a time. As we took the elevator down after saying our 'goodbyes' I couldn't help but cry. We started to walk out and were met by our Pastor and another Pastor from India (who is with us right now! Exactly 2 years later) I met him for the first time crying my eyes out! They comforted us separately and I can't remember what they said exactly but it was what I needed to hear! 

On the journey home we posted on Facebook to pray for Naomi, and this I remember so clearly. It was extraordinary and I don't think our Facebook friends realise! 

As we drove home We were checking our Facebook and our ENTIRE NEWS FEED was FILLED with posts about Naomi and praying for her and us. I remember this so clearly as I was reading them out in the car and we all were just amazed and crying a crazy amount! Name after name, comment after comment it built us up and encouraged us more! People who we didn't know would comment on friends post about how they were praying. 

To all who are reading this and posted about Naomi that night thank you. You may never have realised how much it meant to us but it did. What everyone wrote was beautiful and uplifting and made our family feel SO loved! I remember dad saying he couldn't drive as his eyes were filled with water and couldn't see anything! The whole car was a complete CRY FEST! 

Words cannot describe what it was like reading everything from ALL over the world (literally) about Naomi and us. 

As I went to bed that night I felt lonely as I normally share a room with Nay and I couldn't stop thinking about her in a hospital and me in our room. It didn't seem right. 

I awoke that morning to our dear friend and her daughter at the door with breakfast for Nathanel and I. Mum and dad were at the hospital and Verity had to work. Those small acts of kindness really speak loudly. As it was just two of us we didn't really know what to do and it was nice to see our friend with Starbucks coffee and a muffin! 

 I took the day off school as I probably wouldn't have concentrated at all and, at times like these you want to be surrounded by family. 

To be honest I can't remember what I did that day as I didn't know what to do. I mean what ARE you supposed to do when your sister is in a 12 hour operation? Well me and Bud (brother) did what we knew. We prayed we worshipped we spent time with God and waited. A lot of calls to mum and dad for any update and there wasn't. 

The strangest and hardest thing about the day was knowing that while you are at home, there is serious surgery being done not too far away for your sister. And that was hard, I couldn't help but think what part of the surgery they were up to or what they were doing at that exact time.

And it made me think, everyday we enter, somewhere someone is in the same position as me. Waiting, waiting for news about a dear person, who may be in surgery. It happens everyday, so much happens that we don't think about.

Anyway as time rushed by without our notice, Verity got home and we did what we knew to do. At 5 we got a call from Mum who said that as her and dad were pacing corridors waiting they just had to ask a nurse to see if all was ok. I mean 9 hours later and no news? She had to know something, so the nurse went away and came back telling her that Dr M said " tell her not to worry! I told her if she doesn't see me then that means all is well. She does not  have to worry everything is fine" those simple disjointed words were such relief! SHE WAS FINE! Not done, but fine. And for that time, that was enough. 

That night at 8:04pm we got the call. "Naomi has come out of the operation all is well, the doctor saved all of her nerves, she is fine" umm so that equals the BEST NEWS EVER!! 

We were able to see her that night two hours after the operation so our pastor came over who would then drive us to the hospital at 10, which turned into 11pm. 

Anyway it was just us 3 at home and we were told to ring everyone and let them know. That was a joyful experience with the amount of tears and joy over the phone, it was ecstatic and all were so pleased to hear. 

As there was no food in our house we ordered Dominos and ate it with our pastor. 

We drove to the hospital and the next hour was the hardest hour of my life.

It was strange, and really there are no words but I will try my best. She was in a different place and we weren't allowed to see her straight away. We were greeted by our parents who told us all they knew, and then they told us that we will be going in one at a time to see her. We would need to wash our hands and wear a throwaway apron as the place we were going was for serious patients, and there were only three people in that ward, they didn't want disease or bacteria to spread. 

So Verity went in. Nathanael went in. Then I went in.

If anyone knows me they know that I cry, a lot. Dad told us to try not to cry in front of her but be supportive and encouraging. As I waited to see her I did not know what to expect.

So I walked up the corridor, my heart in my throat. I washed my hands, put on the apron and then Dad opened the door. I saw her. Lying there. Not being able to move. I glanced around. Saw what she was wired up to. And turned away and burst into tears. Dad tried to push me in, but I needed a minute. I normally can just pull it altogether, but I couldn't this time. 

All I saw was a half shaven head, a beautiful, young girl listening to her siblings and then around her this white, sterile, white room. Emphasis on the white as it was fully clean and hospital like. The kind you see in movies, that they put on, but no. She was hooked up to everything imaginable, the beeping sound and everything. 

As I turned and sobbed, you can understand the need for a 15 year old girl to 'take a minute'. I sucked it up as I knew I had to and 'thought' I would cry no more. I took a deep breath and entered. Because of the 12 hour operation she couldn't turn her head to the right  I held her hand tightly rambling on to her about things I can't remember. The nurses surprisingly let all 3 of her siblings to surround her and talk. We laughed, encouraged her, made jokes, what we always do. But she was tired and at this point it was about 12pm so we had to be quick. The nurse came round and checked her so often an thats when it hit me, that I am standing around a hospital patient who is my sister. I NEVER thought I would be in this position BUT I had (and have) Grace for every situation life throws our way.

So I was fine, my cry turned into small whimpers as I tried to hold in my tears. But the moment that stopped me and seriously flipped everything around was when we had to go.

As I type this I am tearing up just remembering this unforgettable moment. We had to go, I was holding her hand. I gave her a gentle, light hug and was ready to go when she clutched my hand so tightly whispering

"Please don't leave"

Don't leave. I turned to look at her and broke down into a puddle of tears. It hit me that she would have to stay in this sterile, white, beeping room all night, alone. It pained me to leave, I love her, she is my sister, my best friend, I would have done anything to take her place. 

After a prolonged goodbye we left. It was the hardest goodbye. I knew I was going home to our room and she would not be there.

She didn't remember anything from that night. It is always good to remember it as it was a poignant moment that won't be forgotten. 

The Eighth of September 2011.

Part One: Emily's Story

As I was not aware of what was going on while I was in hospital, my younger sister will share her insight into the day leading up to the operation and the day of. You can check out her blog at

 rising-quick.blogspot.co.uk

I never thought it would be my sister. I never thought it would be my family. Never thought it would be our issue. I never thought it would happen. 

The day was a blur. The whole summer was a blur. I'm going to rewind a little so you could understand all going on from a different perspective. 

I remember clearly the day I found out it was a "brain tumour" that MY sister had. The words didn't sound right. They made me feel uncomfortable and like it wasn't real. But it was. There were people at our house and I remember our older sister Verity picking up the 'phonecall' that would give us the news. She called our brother Nathanael and I into the office and slowly told us the news. I remember not moving, like my brain had to stop to digest that information. I never knew someone with a brain tumour or what the procedure was. So everything that was about to happen in the next few days were new. 

I cried. Shocked at this news. I cried more when Verity relayed more information.

 "She has to stay over night, and surgery will be tomorrow". 

We prayed, that was the only thing we could do in this situation, a situation that occurs in movies nothing I experienced in real life. 

We went to the hospital that night. It was the first time I went in to a hospital to see someone (let alone my sister). I will be honest I was scared! It was a different place, as people were there because they were sick. And it didn't seem right for our family to be walking in there.

As I first walked in it felt different, as we went up to the tenth floor to see her you had to walk past other patients and that made me sad to see so many other people and so many family members all waiting beside their beds. Did they have a hope? Did they know that Jesus is a comforter? As we walked down the ward there she was. My sister, the girl I shared a room with my whole life (and still do!) My closest friend lying in a hospital bed waiting for surgery?! 

Anyone who knows our family knows we are very close and ALWAYS have fun. So of course, in true Martin family tradition we had a ball! We laughed, we cried, we joked, we prayed, we sang, we cried some more and laughed a little more. We made Nay feel at home, made her feel comfortable. As you all know from reading Nay's other posts you know that she did not have surgery the day after.

Once we found out surgery was postponed our daily routine for roughly 2 weeks was our trip to the hospital! As you read earlier when I first walked in to the hospital I was scared, but strangely after weeks of going in it was like our second home! We didn't want it that way but I knew were every vending machine, kiosk and elevator in that place! I knew how to get to the car park the route there was memorised I knew how long it would take, it became second nature. 

I started my last (and most important year) of secondary school the day before the BIG day. I remember how my tutor welcomed me in with a huge smile on her face asking how my summer was and I hesitantly handed her a note from my parents letting her know what was going on. Her face dropped she was shocked. She quickly comforted me making sure I was alright and emailed all my teachers letting them know that I might not be able to complete work or be in school due to other 'circumstances'.

All the students knew and they were shocked. They kept saying how "unfair it is as you are such an amazing family' and "bad things happen to good people". They were always making sure I was 'ok' and that it was ok to cry as I must be a wreck. But you know what? I was at such peace. Others were probably more worried than I as I knew God was her helper and is our peace, so I was fine holding onto what God says.

He will NEVER leave me, nor forsake me

This deserves a whole new post as it was such a beautiful thing. Jesus came and visited me!!...”WHAT!??” I hear you say, I say yes! Yes Indeed! 

I remember lying there, thinking over everything that just happened, feeling cold, uncomfortable, soar and alone. Then all of a sudden this huge perfectly white light is shining from my left and as clear as a bell I hear Him say ‘Hey, I’m still here, I haven’t gone anywhere, I am still with you.’ I remember having the biggest smile on my face. It was perfect. He is perfect. It was exactly what I needed to hear and it silenced all the worry and doubt and reminded me who was caring for me. 

‘I am cared for by the one who MADE the universe’

(I am not aware of anyone else that has accomplished that, someone like that is worthy of ALL praise and ALL glory!)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Q5zxsFfcUs - A song to praise Him with!

The next morning after sleeping so well I awoke to the final pre-op tests being done. It was early and my parents were there. It was the strangest thing. I got taken to the blacked out 14th floor that did not appear on the elevator buttons but instead to get there you had to call the lift operator to take you there. The room I was wheeled in looked sterile, the air was different, everything was clean and white. There were people in the room fiddling around with various things. An anesthetist explained a few things to me and held up an oxygen mask. He told me to take long deep breaths and count to 30.

One

Two

Three

Fou....

Getting Closer

After a few days of just waiting to hear for what to do next, visitors coming in and sitting in a hospital bed. I had an angio embolism. This is where they fill the blood vessels that where attached to the tumour with glue. I was asleep for this part, and woke up in a recovery room where I had to stay flat for 6 hours. (not exactly fun) It was the day before the operation so they were trying to find a bed for me in CCU (Critical Care Unit) to prep me for the operation. It took from 3pm - 8pm to get bed so I had to wait in the recovery room with my parents and the nurse, who we got to know very well. My parents had to feed me dinner as my arms where starting to get taken over by needles and very soar to bend. I was eating normally again by this point, 3 meals a day and I was hungry! 

It was all peaceful and I was relaxed and calm, then the bed was ready and they wheeled me upstairs. My parents could only come so far for the time being. I started to get a little nervous and anxious realising that it was getting closer and closer to the ‘big day’. I was in a little pain from the procedure as they had to put pressure on it every time they went over a bump on the floor (and there were a lot!), this combined with anxiety and helplessness meant that I was not in a good state. All at once 5 people started moving me from one bed to another, plugging me into machines, putting even more needles into me, it all happened too suddenly and I didn’t like the change. I got a little teary eyed and eventually they let my parents in and this time my siblings where with them to see me before I had the operation. I didn’t want to be left alone in yet another new place, it was cold, there were machines beeping, I was uncomfortable and just wanted to be home. It was a weird feeling, I wasn’t saying goodbye but we all knew that what was happening in a few hours was pretty serious. 

My Pastor was able to visit me past the normal visiting hours as he comes under the category of ‘Spiritual Leader’ and they are allowed in a hospital 24/7. He and another Pastor from India (who I met for the first time in a hospital bed, in CCU, which again I did find a little amusing) encouraged me from Psalm 34 to ‘Bless the Lord at ALL times.’ With just a short visit they left. It was just me. The beeping. A couple of nurses briskly walking around and critical patients to my left and right. As you can imagine I couldn’t get to sleep, but I so desperately wanted to. 

This is when it happened...

Visiting Hours: 2pm-8pm

I loved having visitors. It can get pretty boring in hospital when your on your own in the middle of the day. My brother and family friend AC surprised me one day when I was super bored and we went down to the ground floor where there was a Costa Coffee. We had the biggest hot chocolate I have ever seen. Next thing you know DR.M spots me at Costa and comes over to give me a hug. (I later find out from him that I was his favourite patient!) 

Wednesday 31.08.11

If anyone has swagger its DR.M. He was and is the best doctor I could have had. He is one of the top surgeons for Neurology and he knows his work. I remember when he first walked into the room, he had an air about him and an entourage that followed wherever he went. He wore a pin stripped suit with an orange cravat and lime green socks. He was very charming. 

The early morning of the 31st August he came swooping in and boldly stated ‘I have been looking at the scans all night with my colleague, we have found something which means we need to further investigate before we do anything.’ We and others all prayed that God would give wisdom to my doctors and this was so the work of God making sure that it was done correctly. The decisions were made by him then and there that after he left, the porter and anaesthetists all came up ready to take me down and prep me but the news had not got to them that it was postponed. DR.M had the final say on everything and his judgements in my opinion were always good ones. I was blessed with such a great doctor. 

I had extensive eye tests, they could even see the tumour behind the back of my right eye, it is a training hospital so I had 3 trainee eye doctors all ask to see it. I couldn’t help but find it amusing and tried to keep still and not laugh at them all staring in amazement. 

I had an angiogram which is when they shoot dye in my vein that ran all the way to my head and found out that the tumour was being fed by my blood supply. It was a very strange and uncomfortable experience but the peace of God was so upon me that the nurses were amazed at my calmness and my parents would only ever answer that it was my faith and trust in God. In doing this it meant that if they went ahead with the original plan they would have found this out too late and I would have lost a lot of blood and that would have lead to all sorts of complications. In other words. I was kept. 

I have mentioned that I had a great doctor and I will mention how wonderful some of my nurses were. But I know who the best doctor/nurse was, I knew who really cared about me and that was Jesus. My motto for my time in hospital was ‘I am cared for by the one who made the universe’ You can’t get any bigger, more powerful than that! So I was in safe hands. Whenever the doctors would say all these horrible percentages of survival, or the chances of some nasty things happening. I was never phased as I KNEW that God was bigger than all of it and that He had me in the palm of His hands. 

This brought me back and reminded me how important it was that I learnt how much He cared, loved and saw me. How could I not love Him back. 

Tuesday 30.08.11 - The last day I threw up

By the time it got to August I had several tests and checks to find out what was wrong. I had an endoscopy and they found nothing wrong and no damage to my stomach from all the throwing up!.(Praise God!) I had an MRI at the beginning of August and they discovered a ‘mass’ right by my right ear. It turned out that it was rested on my balancing nerve which threw off my equilibrium which is why I was throwing up so much. This explained why at times when I stood up from just sitting down it would trigger it, and when I arose in the mornings. The ENT doctor suggested I go see Dr.M in London for a consultation who specializes in Neurology to find out more about this ‘mass...’ 

The week before I went to go in for my consultation was physically the worst week and the most difficult, by this point my head was heavy and hard to hold up in the mornings and evenings. Despite this I was able to enjoy family day trips around the country. At this point I also wasn’t able to hold anything down either so I was running on empty. But somehow I found strength from God to push through and kept going forward despite how I felt and I felt bad. We got back on the Monday and on the Tuesday (30.08.11) was when we went in. This was the last day I threw up!!!! 

After waiting for a long time to be seen we go in for the hopes of some answers. His third in command just simply looks at the paper work and says come back in 3 days and we will give you another scan. 

I could not wait another three days. 

This is when the favour of God comes into play. A close family friend who works with the hospitals met us at the appointment and simply asked if there is any chance if I could have a scan today. He made some calls and said ‘would you be fine to wait an hour or so?’ we said yes, I could hold on for a couple more hours. Once my scan had finished and they looked at them, then came the news.

‘You have a brain tumour’ - ‘We have to admit you tonight’ - ‘We need to operate tomorrow’ -  ‘We need to get it out as soon as we can’ - ‘Your going to have to stay here over night’

It all came as a shock but I was relived to get answers and I was in the right place to get help, to be on my way out. We told my siblings and my Pastor drove them over. I was very glad to see them, I am so thankful for my family and the love and support they give. Now not a lot of people knew that I was sick, I tried to hide or not bring it up as I didn’t know what to say when people asked. My siblings put it out there on facebook, I’m sure it was a shock to many but everyone responded stating their support, love and prayers. 

There will be an end!

It started to get a little tiresome now, I did not like having to adjust my life around throwing up, I did not want to accept it as the norm. I did not want it to stay. It got tougher and tougher to shake of being sick as it started to get worse, not being able to bounce back so quickly. It drained me, I didn't have much of an appetite and could only eat in the evenings, so I found my self getting weaker physically. But I had to make a conscious decision everyday that even though my flesh got weaker, spiritually I wasn’t. A scripture that really helped me was Psalm 73: 25-26 which reads: ‘Whom have I in heaven but You? And besides You, I desire nothing on earth. My flesh and my heart my fail, But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.‘’ I found that being continually filled by Him strengthened me, even in the silence my mum and I made sure that it was not a time for lies and doubt to speak to me as I rested. So she would put on worship DVDs, or just play entire albums of Matt Redman, Chris Tomlin, just worshipful music. I started to see that this sickness was not going to last forever. There will be an end. A song that some of you may know by Matt Redman, ‘You never let go’ was a help to all of us in the family. My favourite part being:

‘Yes, I can see a light that is coming for the heart that holds on

And there will be an end to these troubles

But until that day comes

Still I will praise You, still I will praise You’

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y83-vMeWc9E

Thats all I could do. Praise. That was my saving strength and I saw more and more how powerful pure worship is. 

I like to visualize things and picture things to aid my understanding or grasp on things. I saw my self in a valley, it was dark, lots of shadows and death lurking around (know what Psalm I’m thinking of?) But I saw God as my shepherd, He in His most pure love took me by the hand and we walked up that mountain together, and we would take it step by step until we reached the top and the view would be so glorious, so breath taking, so perfect that it was worth the climb.

Reaching a point of knowing how He saw me, how He loved me and how He cared prepared me for what laid ahead. 

Does God love me?

This question definitely crossed my mind more than once, I have to admit. I didn’t know where this sickness came from, why it was here and when it was going to go. I thought that He was punishing me for something, but I would rack my brain trying to think of something and got myself all entangled with my thoughts. I needed to know that God cared; I needed to know that I was worth fighting for, because all I could see was just a bag of bones not worth saving.

My view had to change in order for me to be on the right path of getting well. I watched DVDs about God’s love, I read, and I listened but nothing was hitting home.

By this time it was May and I had an exam to do for my first year in university. I wasn't well enough to go by myself as it was somewhere I had never been before and was an hour away from my house. So my mum came with me, (I did feel embarrassed but I knew I needed help!). That morning I asked God if He would show me how much He loved me.

 We got to the exam place and I sat down to do my test. Thirty minutes into it I looked up and everything was spinning. My eyes couldn’t focus and I felt like I was going to throw up! I thought to myself ‘oh God please don’t make me puke in front of all these people’! I put my hand up to go to the bathroom and an examiner led me to the bathroom. When inside I just prayed and prayed and called out to God for strength.  I felt a little better and walked out the bathroom. The lady saw my face and hers dropped from a smile. I told her I wasn’t well and went to go get my teacher. As I was sitting in the foyer this boy leaned over and asked: ‘Are you OK? I’m concerned about you?’ No one’s ever said that to me before nor would I think a stranger would say ‘I’m concerned about you’!  I was so touched and reassured him that I would be alright and he offered his services if I needed anything. My teacher came down and gave me options about finishing the test, and I said I just want to finish it and told him that my mum was nearby to help. I finished quickly and came down to find my friend had finished too. She sat with me and kept me occupied. My teacher, whom I wasn’t fond of because of how he would do certain things, offered to give my mum, my friend and me a ride home! I was shocked and a little nervous to get into his car, but I wasn’t going to be alone. He drove us all the way back to our road. It was the kindness of God to do that for me.

I can’t see what lies ahead of me, but I know that God can. I saw that God had my day planned out perfectly; He made sure that every step of the way I was cared for and loved, even by people I didn’t expect it from. I believe the love of God is seen through people and their actions, which is just a glimpse of what God does for us. He uses other people to bless us and remind us of what He has done.

I can say, without doubt or wavering, that God loves me.

The only place to start - is from the beginning

In March 2011 I noticed that my hearing in my right ear was different. I couldn’t hear like I was used to, and I need my ears as my passion is working with audio. At my church I am one of the sound technicians and had been doing so since I was 14. I just dismissed it at first and thought it was my phone that was making me not hear correctly. 

My stomach also started to pose a problem. I would get sudden pains in my stomach and wouldn’t know what would bring them on. After about a week of having these pains, I started to throw up... non-stop. By the third night I asked my parents to take me to the hospital. I have never said this before and was a little afraid. My older sister had to help me walk to the car and get around in the hospital and it was a long wait before I was seen. Once a doctor came they took blood but found nothing unusual and just gave me something to drink to get my strength back.

After a few days I was able to get strength back and everything seemed normal for about two weeks. Then it started all over again and this time it was every morning when I woke up. I did not like this one bit and neither did my family. We prayed and we stood against whatever it was. It became an unfortunate start to everyday. It was tough and I had to re-direct my mind each time. There were days when I wouldn’t want to get out of bed, but my family and friends were a great support in shaking me out of it! 

Plain and simple, I was sick and tired of being sick and tired! My mum and brother and sister came and had to physically get me out of bed as I was weak. They encouraged my to praise the Lord. So my brother got his Guitar, my sister sang, and my mum helped prop me up. But I didn’t want to. My reasoning going on in my head was, I’m not going to do it just because they want me to do it. Then he spoke. God whispered to me and said ‘Wouldn’t I be there playing the guitar, wouldn’t I be there singing with you and holding you up? Wouldn’t I do the same for you to help you?’ I broke down as I usually do when He talks to me because it’s always perfect. I was being plain right stubborn! But God being rich in mercy had people around me to help me get out of the state I was in. I submitted to God and repented and I worshipped Him and it helped me get back on my feet and do what I had to do! 

Worship is key! One day I was struggling to get out of bed (again). I knew that I was going to throw up and I didn’t want to; I was afraid. I cried out to God for help and He said “strengthen yourself with Psalm 100”. So I read it. He said “read it again and again and again” so I read it again and again and again until I was believing it. Then He said “get out of bed reading it” and I did! I didn’t get up and have to run to the bathroom; I walked! I was so happy that I didn’t throw up I just sang praises to God for what he did for me! Then it hit me. Before, I was worshipping God out of my desperation or to distract myself when I really should be praising Him for who He is and what He has done. It was simple.

It is important what comes out of your mouth and every time I threw-up I made sure that ‘I will bless the Lord at ALL times...’ I distracted myself from me and concentrated on God and what He had for me and enabled me to do in that day. It become the norm that I would throw-up but continue with my day like nothing happened.