"Let's Get This Show on the Road ..."

My friend Brian is a fighter: after not being well for a couple of days he was rushed back to Red Deer emergency room, where he waited all day for a decision as to how they wanted to proceed with his treatment. 

Dad and I went up late this afternoon to see him in the ER ward. We joined a throng of admirers in Room Number 6: Lana and Richard, Arnold and Shirley (others, it turned out, spent some time in the waiting room).

And Char. Of course Char. Char is Brian's biggest fan, his staunchest supporter, his fiercest advocate. They have been married for 23 years now, and the feelings they had that day as she walked toward him down the aisle of the red carpet he borrowed from the Calgary Flames club for the occasion pale in comparison with the deep, rich wealth of abiding love they share today.

Char, who broke all speed limits getting across town this morning in order to follow the ambulance up to the hospital, was now standing at Brian's head as he lay in the hospital bed. She tenderly placed cool damp washcloths on the sides of his face and his forehead because he felt like he was overheating.

"Let's get this show on the road!" he told her on more than one occasion; she had to lean her head close to him, his lips almost pressed to her ear in order for her to hear him.

And now it was showtime.

The surgeon, with a jaunty New Orleans Saints scrub cap on his head, had done all that was in his power to get Brian ready for surgery. "I'm going to come get him in a few minutes," the cheerful nurse exclaimed. "The surgeon is ready for him!"

We all gathered round, linking hands and bowing our heads, and Arnold led us in prayer for the surgeon, for the surgical team, for wisdom and healing, for strength for Brian.

I was right at his hand level as we stood there, and I held his hand as we prayed. It was icy cold.

And then the nurse said we could follow him down to the doors of the operating room and take up occupancy in the tiny lounge next door. 

We talked and laughed and reminisced together as the TV clock ticked away the final moments of the London Olympic Games just above our heads. Most of us pulled out after about an hour, as Char said that she would be okay and that we needed to get back to Three Hills to be able to carry out our commitments for Sunday.

Just after Dad and I arrived back at the TH, I received a text saying that Brian had come through his surgery "fine." He will be in ICU for at least a day, but he is better already. 

In Brian's hospital room we had sung the verse of the chorus, "Be still and know that I am God." God was now singing back the second verse, "I am the Lord that healeth thee."

Please pray for my valiant friend, no matter what time zone you are in. And pray for rest and strength for his beautiful bride.

Brian, this show is on the road!