Spiritual Experiences

[greensister]

I am not sure of there is a Spiritual Experience thread--if so I apologise. This is soemthing that happened to me and my colleague, it felt somwhat miraculous at the time! Or maybe not?

ladies of the night--our guardian angel

22) Ladies of the Night It had begun to rain as we drove down the road to Craglee Bridge to a call out to change a dressing. The address was unfamiliar, taking us up hill and down dale probably to stick a sticking plaster on someone's toe, as was frequently the case when people called us out to change dressings in the middle of the night! Ah well, Mr Wales, the patient, wasn't one for giving out much detail over the phone other than he had been in hospital recently with a skin complaint. Driving through Craglee Bridge and through some labyrinthine back streets, we were taken by surprise at the sight of a small river of water blocking the road in front of us. Janet consulted the map.

" It's a ford, " she pronounced as she located our position by torchlight.

"Onwards and upwards, " I replied, shining the full beam of my headlights into the swiftly flowing brook. There didn't seem to be any choice other than to drive through it as our address was, according to the map, a few hundred yards on the opposite bank. Janet crossed herself and I muttered a prayer as I plunged into the swirling stream , and, like Moses and the Israelites, my trusty wheels parted the waters. Thankfully, like the biblical tribe, we made the other side and, dripping like a giant drowned rat , made the rest of the trek, up an unmade road to Mr Wales residence. At least the house was then easy to find , with a security light in the drive, so hopefully we would not be delayed overlong . I didn't like the look of the rain and the thought of going back through the ford, though presumably there was another route out from this side of the river . We were led into a well lit bedroom by an anxious looking lady who we presumed to be Mrs Wales to be confronted by a heavily bandaged gentleman lying on top of the bed.

"Goodness, " I said, looking at the mummified figure in some trepidation . "You look as though you've been in the wars !" So much for the plaster on the toe!

"Oh, I've had that flesh eating bug, " said Mr Wales , as though he had suffered nothing worse than a minor twinge . " It's a very nasty germ that's going round. "

"Flesh eating bug !" I said stupidly, taken aback and exchanging a glance of alarm with Janet. I tried to remember the disease's medical name, but it took me a few seconds to recall it. "Necrotizing fasciitis. Good gracious ! "

There had been several horror stories in the media about this terrible condition which, a virulent infection which , according to the sensational reports , gobbled up the flesh at the rate of knots, often proving fatal.

"Yes, I nearly died, " continued Mr Wales cheerfully while his wife hovered in the background, clucking sympathetically, " but I lived to tell the tale, though it was a close shave !" He waved one of his bandaged legs in the air to demonstrate that he was not a corpse .

After a few more questions and answers, it transpired that the unfortunate Mr Wales had entered hospital for a simple hernia operation, and that was the last he knew, until he awakened several days later sans huge chunks of flesh from his back and leg. He had, indeed, nearly died, and been in intensive care for several weeks.

"I swelled up like a balloon, " he went on gorily. " I was covered in great big blisters that started festering and filling up with matter and puss. They'd to cut all the badness out of me , like a lump of meat I were on a butcher's slab, not that I knew owt about it, it's only what they told me since but that's what they 'ad to do before it ate me up completely . Nearly 'ad me chips I did ! "

It seemed that Mr Wales was set to tell us the entire story , and interesting though his gruesome experience undountedly was , we were thankful when Mrs Wales intervened with ," Ralph, dear, the nurses are busy and need to get on. One of his bandages have come loose, that's why we've sent for you," she explained , looking at Janet and me apologetically . "Can you fix it for him ? I have tried but there seems to be something leaking through. The rest of the dressings seem alright. "

Well, that was something to be thankful for , but what about the flesh eating bug? Was it safe to unravel him--was the bug still there ? Neither Janet nor I fancied catching a dose of the fiendish flesh eating bug ! Thankfully the day nurses were already visiting to redress Mr Wales wounds and the nursing notes reassured us that the " nasty germ " had been well and truly exterminated before he was discharged from hospital . As well as his leg and back , he had graft sites in what good flesh was left but according to the care plan , everything was now healing well though it would be a long time before he was fully recovered .

23) Ladies of the Night

On taking down the bandages and dressings we were both shocked to see just how dreadfully Mr Wales had been attacked by the terrible " flesh eating bug " which was probably Group A streptococcus, though other organisms sometimes turned destructive in the same potentially lethal way. His affected leg had been debrided to within an inch of it's life and deep scars and craters were embedded into the ravaged tissue. His other leg had been used as a graft site, while the whole of his back, which fortunately did not require redressing, was similarly affected. It took some considerable time to redress and rebandage his leg,for despite the fact I was a quite a quick worker, this was something which simply could not be whipped off and on in five minutes . While all the time, as Janet and I worked, I was conscious of the rain pounding down outside and the deepening ford at the bottom of the hill !

"Thank God it's not Gracie, " muttered Janet, as she cleared away the mess. "We would have been here all night !"

Still it took at least thirty minutes before the deed was done , the notes written up and our patient tucked up in bed , encased like King Tut in his tomb, and we were ready to head back to Fellbury and our booked visit.

" Where does the road go from here ? " I asked Mrs Wales as we prepared to leave.

She shook her head and raised her eyebrows at the same time, as though we were joking.

"Nowhere , it's a dead end ; Farmer Drake's lands are behind us , " she informed us cheerfully, adding, by way of encouragement, or perhaps consolation , " We have a four wheel drive, of course. But don't worry,the ford doesn't get very deep.You should be alright if you get off now . "

With these sanguine words of hope ringing in our ears we sped down the hill and towards what now appeared to be the Niagra Falls.

"Bloody hell !" we gasped, as the headlights picked out the tossing waves barring our way.It wasn't often that both Janet and I were stumped, but this was a situation to which neither of us had a ready answer.

"Well we can't sit here all night. It'll only get deeper. "

"Bloody silly place to have built a house , between a river and a field ! "

"Well, we can't go back........"

"But we can't go forward........"

After another five minutes of dithering indescision , we decided there was only one chance of getting out of our plight and that was to take our chances with the ford. This, as it turned out, was definitely the wrong decision, as despite Mrs Wales's optimistic assurances, the waters were soon coming up through the floor and flooding the car's interior. And then we stopped, in the centre of the swell, and the car died on us with a dismal death rattle .

"Bubbles!" said Janet , who was trying to stop swearing by substituting less naughty words. "It's no good panicking!"

"I'm not panicking !" I said, looking out of the window at the inky creek which was now swirling round my feet also . Should we abandon ship ?

"I'll ring Jack ," said Janet, beginning to punch her home number into the phone.

"But how long will it take for him to get here? " Janet's home was at least eight miles away.

"Well, I don't know, but we can't just sit here in the middle of the bloody River Ganges ! I don't intend drowning for no bugger ! "

" It's not that deep , Janet! Anyway lets call out Rescue as well ! They might be quicker than Jack ! Or what about the Fire Brigade ? "

Deciding against the Fire Brigade for the moment, Janet fiddled around with the mobile phone, while I kept an eye on the inundation which thankfully appeared to have reached its level. After several minutes she managed to awaken her husband , but by now we were both so panicked by our situation and the patient who was expecting us, that it was difficult for her to explain just where we were and what the problem was coherently . An argument ensued, culminating in shouts, threats, name calling and much swearing, though thankfully the bleary headed Jack seemed to have eventually got the message and said he was on his way.

"Bloody idiot ! "cursed Janet, fogetting her vow of not swearing and angrily punching the numbers of our lease car's rescue service into the mobile only to find herself at the receiving end of a long and tortuous system, involving listening to music and messages, while all the while the babbling brook burbled and babbled

24) Ladies of the Night

merrily around us .By the time Janet made contact she had lost it completely.

"Just get somebody out here now ! We're stuck in the middle of a raging torrent , and need to get to a poorly patient . No! I don't know the bloody post code and we can't flamingwell bear with you , just get someone out here now ! " She snapped the phone off and sighed. "Bloody fools, bloody answering machines, bloody stupid woman at the other end............."

" Chill out , Janet, " I soothed, though I felt far from "chilled" myself, apart from my wet feet . "It's not the end of the world ! We're only stranded in a little stream, we're not on the Titanic in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean with an iceberg up our ...... .. "

" Call that a little stream, it looks more like Cape Horn to me. And my feet are soaking !"

"Well, so are mine. There's only Buster who's dry." My little dog was snuggled up asleep in his blankets ,blissfully unaware of the crisis. "Perhaps we should pray, or sing, or something. "

"Hmmm. " Janet was a devout Roman Catholic. Maybe now was an appropriate time to put God to the test . For myself, past attempts to enlist the assistance of the Almighty in times of crisis seemed to have fallen on deaf ears but maybe Janet, as an RC, might have better results.

"Whose the patron saint of drowning sailors ? " I asked.

"I'm trying to remember. St Nicolas I think. "

"St Nicolas ! Don't be daft--that's Santa Claus ! Isn't it Saint Christoper ? "

"Oh well, what does it matter ? Lets pray to them all! "

"Why not pray to the man himself, Jesus. Surely he has a direct line. He saved the disciples, after all, when they were stuck on the Sea of Galilee in a storm . What was it he said to the waves ? Be still , or calm down or something . And don't forget how the Lord parted the Red Sea for the Israelites . Not to mention Noah's ark!"

In the end we sent up a garbled demand for help to whoever was listening, though, needless to say the waves did not subside nor the waters divide . I started to sing a hymn I remembered from my Church of England upbringing.

"Eternal Father, strong to save, whose arm hath bound the restless wave, " I wailed tunelessly , singing not being one of my greatest accomplishments , " who walkest on the foaming deep, and calm amidst its rage did sleep, Oh hear us when we cry to thee, for those in peril on the sea!" Janet told me to shut up and sighed for a cigarette, a habit she had quit several years ago. I sighed for a vodka and we subsided into a fretful bout of cursing and swearing. Suddenly headlights appeared round the bend at the other side of the road and a large four wheel drive appeared before us.

"Gosh that was quick! " I said.

"It's not Jack, " said Janet. "We don't have a four wheel. "

"Well, it's not Rescue either. "

Maybe it was someone going to work on the farm. Who else could it be ? Now I supposed we'd have an irate man to contend with, but such was not the case. To our amazement the driver, a big, strapping fellow waded out to us with his flashlight, and after summing our position up, laughed cheerily.

"Don't you worry girls,I'll have you out in a jiffy ," he assured us, and commenced to do just that. It did not take him above five minutes to attach us to his vehicle and tow us out of the ford. Then, opening the bonnet, he sprayed something over the plugs and whatnot and with a cough and a splutter, the car started up. Janet and I all but kissed him in our gratefulness, but without further ado he waved us goodbye and drove off through the ford and up the hill.

************************************************************************************

Who was our Good Samaritan? We never found out though we contacted the farm and the Wales the next day, wishing to give proper thanks for his help. The farm said they had no worker coming in at that hour and could shed no light on the matter. In our flustered state , we had not asked for our rescuer's name, and a letter we sent to the local press a few days later, expressing our thanks, brought no response . Maybe, after all, someone on high had heard our prayers and answered them ! I was both spooked and comforted by the whole uncanny episode . Had an angel in disguise been sent to us in our hour of need ? or was the man simply a farmworker who did not want identifying for some reason. Whatever or whoever he was , he had certainly been our guardian angel that night!

[nurseangel47]

This is eerily similar to a story my husband (who is originally from England, also) tells whenever he's in one of his "spiritual" moods...

He was then still living in England at the time. No, he's not a nurse, but a "metal surgeon" .... the best "panel beater" ever imported from London's outskirts that ever lived! (me, beaming!)...

Anyway, he was driving on a deserted stretch of road in the countryside between towns late one night. Car dies from lack of gas. He starts walking towards the nearest town with gas can in hand to try to find fuel to siphon into car's empty tank. Along comes a car out of nowhere, slows and lets him in to assist in taking him by vehicle rather than walking. He goes to nearest station, purchases the fuel, returns to car. Offers to pay the chap but he'll have no part of it. " ' Just repay the favor someday and it will be even,' " he says.

Off he goes with advising John that he'll follow behind in case the car stalls again. They get into town, John sees him turn right at a light.

He turns back around because he wants to see which direction he's gone. When he gets back at the light, THERE IS NO ROAD AT THE LIGHT NOR A DRIVE TO TURN INTO! That's where things get strange. John went back in the daylight also to see if there was something he'd missed. Sure enough, there was not anywhere for a car to have turned into. The car just vanished!