Thursday's Mercy

Thursday Aug 21, 2025, was our 4th day of our 2nd session of chemo that turned out quite different from what was expected from our new routine. Our morning starts off normal as we prepare ourselves for the day of chemo and walk across the street from the Hope Lodge to the Sammons Center. Today we were

accompanied on our walk by one of our new friends we had recently made while at treatment. We rode the elevator up to the fourth floor like usual for labs and check in, but today I was feeling a little more nauseous and fatigued. I was feeling more nauseous and dizzier as we got off the elevator onto the 3rd floor as we wait for my appt for fluids and meds. Desiree' got me seated and then went to check in and that is the last thing I remember until I see a friend who was a Dallas EMT standing in front of me.

I got Archie seated in the waiting room and walked over to check us in. As I was walking back to Archie he was reclined in the chair with his head back. 

“Honey, are you feeling, ok?” No response.

“Archie, are you ok?” Nothing. 

At that moment time stood still as a gripped my husband's shoulders shaking him with no response. I was terrified. Thoughts raced through my mind as I was not sure if he had passed out, had a heart attack, or his body was reacting to the chemo that was still attached and pumping into him. All I knew is what I saw, and it looked like Archie was dying. In the parallel of my fear, I was reminded what I read that morning in my quiet time “rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus” (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18).

How in a moment like this can I rejoice? But this is how…

Although fear gripped me, our Father in heaven held me closer.  In the middle of the chaos I felt so loved, seen by the Lord, and cared for. “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalms 34:18).  I felt someone come from behind me and begin taking his pulse; our other friend came and supported his head as a team of medical staff swiftly took action to assess and treat Archie. He had little to no pulse and very slow breathing. (Later to find out his body wasn't processing one of the chemo's and was building up an intolerance which led to anaphylactic shock.) The care team stepped in and I stepped back through my tears to watch them work. They began taking vitals as I watched them place an IV in his arm and blood pressure cuff to monitor his bp. I tried to clearly answer questions as they came but it was so hard to get words out. In a moment I felt alone with a room full of people and just wanted a hug. I felt a tap on my shoulder; it was our friend's father that walked across the street with us that morning who had just walked into the room. Oh, how the Lord provided just what I needed at the exact time I needed it: The comfort of a father's shoulder and whisper of its going to be ok.

"For we live by faith, not by sight" (2 Corinthians 5:7).

I hear numbers and stats being called to one another. Blood pressure is dropping 50/30. We need epinephrin. Blood pressure is coming back up 74/55. How long has it been? 15 minutes. The Dallas fire department arrives soon to Archie's eyes beginning to open. Thank you, Jesus! 

I see through my tears people all around us; a swarm of medical teams working together, office staff, our doctors, our new friends, and all those in the waiting room. I am in awe for the peace that surpasses ALL understanding.

That day could have looked differently than it did. 40 minutes earlier we were still in our room at the lodge. 2 minutes earlier we were in the elevator. BUT His ways are higher than our ways, his thoughts higher than ours. Praise the Lord for the perfect timing of this moment happening and the location we were in. Praise the Lord for the swift hands, the prayers of others and the hugs of strangers. God's timing is perfect even when we cannot see it and his mercies are new every morning.