The good thing about a bad day is that the next one is bound to be better.

Yesterday was rough, and it didn’t end at bedtime. Nelson’s vomiting continued through the night and into the morning, a vomiting like we’d never seen before—violent and ongoing for many minutes at a time. It seemed like he would pass out at any second.

This morning as the vomiting continued along with overwhelming coughing and choking, Ann Sophie and I didn’t know what to do. His pain was “off the charts” (his words), so we contacted his medical team. The first one to respond said, “Take him to the ER.”

And so back we went for our 3^rd visit there in 2½ weeks. As we got in the car, we prayed, crying out to God to rescue Nelson—from vomiting, from coughing, choking, severe abdominal and lung pain, and inadequate breathing. Thankfully the ER was empty, and we went right in.

Several nurses and a doctor quickly focused on each problem in turn. Within an hour Nelson was breathing easier because of receiving oxygen, and his count had gone from 88 to 95. His pain was being treated with fentanyl and the vomiting with anti-nausea meds. And best of all was when Ativan diminished his panic about not being able to breathe.

Finally he fell into a sound sleep, which made me cry as I watched him. He hasn’t slept well in many weeks, some nights not at all. And always sitting straight up.

By 4:00 PM, the staff had decided to admit Nelson to the hospital for at least 24 hours to investigate the vomiting, a sky-high white blood cell count, and severe constipation from pain meds.

By 5:30 Nelson was being strapped in for his first-ever ride in an ambulance. This time he went to a different hospital, landing on a floor with only cancer patients. When he arrived, the staff said, “We are your people. We are already working with all the doctors you’ve been with so far, and we’re familiar with your medical situation.” It felt a little like coming home.

After they delivered all of Nelson’s meds along with an extra blanket, he  ordered dinner (an omelette, fruit and coffee), a welcome sight after not eating anything since yesterday’s nausea had begun. But today’s greatest delight was that we had cried out to God in the car, asking him to rescue Nelson, and he did.

Though his cancer and all the harm it’s doing remains, we were encouraged to hear that this week systemic treatment will begin. And our hope is that it won’t include vomiting.

“Because he holds fast to me in love, I will deliver him. I will protect him, because he knows my name. When he calls to me, I will answer him. I will be with him in trouble. I will rescue him…” (Psalm 91:14-15)