I awoke as I heard the radio calling out into the darkness of the night. But it wasn’t for me, so I went back to sleep. But not for long.
“There is a slight emergency at the clinic,” Nate said. Katie and I got ready to go out into the darkness. We met Michael in the courtyard.
“Did Nate tell you what is wrong?” he wondered.
“No.” we said as we trudged toward the gate.
“We think Steve had either a heart attack or heart dysrhythmia ,” he said.
Kate and I trudged through the mud to the clinic. Our minds were reeling. It didn’t feel like a slight emergency, at all.
“At one point I thought I would have to give him CPR,” Michael told us. “But then he came back.”
When we got to the clinic, Nate was already there. The lights were on. “Sorry about the door on the cupboard,” he said. He had torn it off to get the pulse oximeter out, just for Steve, because he hadn’t remembered his keys. The door hung crookedly now.
We continued stumbling around finding things we needed for the transport to town. Michael wanted parts for the oxygen tank, things for IV, and other emergency supplies. And then it was time to say good-bye as the crew left for the hospital.
Steve wanted to talk to everyone and remind us of his love for each of us. It was good to hear his voice, even though we could tell he was short in breath. We could feel God was with us, and yet we didn’t understand what He was up to. We hugged Steve and Shana and then watched the Ambulance bounce out the lane.
The children stayed here with us. Alex is helping with the pharmacy and other fix-it jobs. Cherie is wondering what is going on, and trying to keep herself happy even if she has an ouchie on her leg, and everything is so wrong in her little world. And, of course, everyone is tired and praying.
A lot of Haitian friends are asking about Steve’s and praying with us. They are very concerned that Fre Steve, who helps them so much, is so sick. So are we.
