The Latest on Ben

A week has now passed since Ben was first admitted into the hospital.  One of the reasons he is still in the hospital six days after his operation, has to do with his white blood cell count.  It was coming down over the past several days.  Normal is between 4 and 10 (I don’t know if that’s a percentage or 4 to 10 white cells per something or other).  Ben was at 12 on Friday, but then spiked again for some reason.  When Jennifer arrived at the hospital this morning, she was told the white count was at 17.

This, however, was not the only problem.  The other thing Jennifer learned as she arrived was that Ben was under quarantine.  The nursing staff believed he may have a situation (I don’t remember the name of it) in which bad bacteria have developed in his intestines due to all the antibiotics pumped into his body since last Sunday.  According to Jennifer, the test the nurses gave him was conclusive in half the markers, but inconclusive in the other half, but they were going to be cautious.  I was getting ready to leave for ward council meeting when Jen called to give me this news.  I have to admit to being shell-shocked as I listened to her tell me these details over the phone.  My feelings were raw and very poignant at that moment and I need whoever is reading this to understand how I felt in order for the lesson I learned to be louder than these initial voices.  The thoughts that came to me said: Ben’s been blessed, prayed for, his name has been put in the temple (several temples, actually), and the youth of our ward are participating in a special fast for him today and this is the result?  I have been trying so hard not only over the past week, but over the past several months to try to keep Ben’s trials in perspective.  The most difficult thing to deal with during this time has been the feelings of powerlessness; feeling as if I could not do anything for my son.

Honestly, all sorts of things pounded through my head like stampeding cattle at that moment: 1) Ben wants to come home; we want him home, but he can’t come home; 2) the longer he stays in the hospital, the greater the bill when it’s all over because of the changes in health care; 3) I haven’t been able to spend any significant time with him in the hospital because I’ve used up so much vacation time already (I go stir-crazy whenever I’m in the hospital for longer than an hour, and Ben’s cabin fever is mine x 2400), making it difficult to concentrate on what I’m doing at work at times.  There might have been others, but these are the thoughts I remember.  I’ve tried to stay positive by positing reasons as to why Ben is going through these difficulties at this time.  This mental exercise has helped, but lately it’s getting harder to stay positive when it seems that no positive progress is being made.  Plus, Jennifer keeps mentioning some looming option that might happen if Ben doesn’t improve.  She keeps asking the doctors what the option is, but they refuse to talk about it (they’re trying to be positive as well, I guess).  Frankly, whatever this option might be and the fact they won’t talk about it scares me.

Bottom line: when Jen gave me the latest news about Ben this morning, I finally cracked.  After ward council ended, I asked my bishop for a blessing.  I knew all these negative feelings were being fed to me by the adversary.  Satan wants me to focus on all of the negative aspects of Ben’s situation; not to see the Lord’s hand in anything that is happening.  Since my father is in Wyoming and cannot give me such a blessing, I felt my local leader was the next best choice.  I’m grateful I asked.  The blessing helped.  After the blessing was completed, I felt better; I still feel better.

The truth is I haven’t been powerless to help Ben.  I mentioned last week about the blessing I was able to give him and how it affected him and helped him.  I’ve given Ben other priesthood blessings over the last several months and they have been very positive experiences.  Bishop’s blessing reminded me again that I know Father in Heaven loves me and my family.  He is concerned about us and He is watching over us.  Even though it seemed, at that moment, as if He wasn’t; to believe He is not is a lie Satan was using to bring me to despair.  Father loves me and my family; and our Elder Brother supports us in our trials through His atoning sacrifice.  In fact, to me, that is the essence of Jesus’ support of us.

I know there are many people who like the poem “Footprints” (my wife is one of them) with its message of Jesus carrying us through our trials.  I understand the comfort this poem has given many people over the years.  Nevertheless, the notion of Him taking us upon His back doesn’t work for me.  I do believe we are saved by the grace of Jesus “after all we can do” (2 Nephi 25:23), but how am I supposed to learn anything from my earthly trials if Jesus has hoisted me on His back and carried me through them?  We learn by doing.  If I am not able to walk on my own through the sand when life gets difficult, what will I learn from the experience?

No.  I subscribe to what Jesus revealed to the Prophet Joseph Smith as elders who had been sent to the eastern states on missions began to return and make reports of their labors: “for I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up” (D&C 84:88).  What this verse teaches me is Jesus will go before me to help clear the way, and will support me on my right and left to buoy me up during times of trial, but He will not completely exonerate me from using my own power to keep moving forward (like me being Ben’s “human cane,” I’ll help support his weight, but he still needs to walk).  Jesus also mentions “angels round about” us.  These angels may be heavenly support, but as Elder Jeffrey R. Holland testified, they may also be “family members on both sides of the veil, prophets and apostles, teachers, leaders, friends” (Ensign, May 2009, 88).  In my version of this poem, Jesus’ footprints would have been always in front and on the sides of the narrator and they would have been accompanied by hundreds of others surrounding those four initial footprints.

In spite of the negative feelings and the wondering “why,” I am still able to rely on my testimony of Heavenly Father and my Elder Brother to keep going.  I’m glad I asked for a blessing in order, once again, to see the contrast between Father and the adversary.  After the blessing, I am still able to smile and that has to stand for something. J