The Nursing Angel

From: Valerie Grieve (grieve@adan.kingston.net)
Story type: Angel
Location: St. Mary"s, Ontario
Source: Form Submission
I was thirteen years old at the time, and in the grip of puberty and sibling rivalry. My sister Kathleen, age 11, and I had been admitted to hospital at the same time to have our tonsils removed. Kathy had a rougher time than I recovering from the surgery, and I had been released from the hospital two days earlier. We were very close, and she was angry with me for having abandoned her. Shortly after she came home, we got into an argument over an album which had been given to both of us as a gift. In anger, she reached out and put her hands around my neck and squeezed, which was uncharacteristic of her and not a serious attempt on my life; it was just an indication of her anger with me. The pressure was enough to tear open an incision in my throat.

At first all that was important to me was getting my own back with Kathy. I tasted the blood, and let the blood fill my mouth. Then I smiled and let the blood roll down my chin and chest. Kathy freaked, and went running for Mom. I was content for I had somehow "won" that round in our sibling rivalry. But then I started to worry a little. There was a lot of blood.

This had happened in the evening, and in those days doctors handed out valium and barbiturates like candy. My mother was on both, and had taken her sleeping pills for the evening. There was no way that she could drive the car to get me to medical attention. In the interim, I had filled a bread loaf pan with blood twice. My mother called an ambulance. When the ambulance arrived, I was quite taken with the 19-year-old attendant. You must keep in mind that in those days I was blissfully unaware of my own mortality, and it never occured to me for an instant that something terrible would happen to me. It was also the time of my sexual awakening. In the ambulance, with the cute attendant applying pressure to my neck, I would not/could not shut up. (I was also a chatterbox!) I asked silly questions like, "Was that the siren I just heard? Did we just go through a red light?" These questions were interjected between attempts to flirt with the darling attendant. He finally succeeded in convincing me of the need not to talk, and to keep me quiet, he talked a lot about himself, which suited me just fine!

Once we got to the hospital, I started to feel bad. I was tired and wanted to sleep very badly. The doctors checked me out, decided that the bleeding would stop on its own, but to keep me overnight to watch me. I tried to sleep, but I had swallowed a lot of blood which made me vomit. I would wake up and abruptly throw up blood all over the bed, which made quite a mess. I was still part kid and I needed comforting through it all.

Through the night there was a wonderful nurse who said her name was Jean. I would apologize for making such a mess, and she reassured me that everything was okay and that she was there to look after me. She cleaned up the mess and changed the sheets several times through the night. Every time I woke up, she was there.

The next morning I asked when she would be working again, because I wanted to thank her. No-one knew of any nurse named Jean, or any nurse who answered her description. I remained in hospital for a couple of days, but I never saw her again. I was quite upset, because people were suggesting that I had dreamed it all. But I knew she was real, more real than any dream could have been.

At the time I did not connect Jean with being an angel, but some of my mother"s relatives suggested that she was a ghost (which I did not believe for a minute). After several years, I have concluded that she must have been an angel. I accepted Jesus with all my heart at a very young age and believed wholly and totally in God (and still do). I believe in miracles, God"s love, and angels. It makes sense to me that he sent an angel to look after me when I needed one.
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