The alarms are sounding,
her SATs are low,
her heart rate is high,
her temperature is rising,
she's crying and turning blue,
Ginny's feeling bad.
Call the doctor,
call her Daddy,
call Mrs. Doris to keep her big sister,
call the nursing agency to put her nurses on hold,
call on God to let this pass us by,
Ginny's feeling bad.
Load the monitors,
load the oxygen,
load the wheelchair,
load the bags,
load our little angel,
Ginny's feeling bad.
The quiet, tense ride to LeBonheur
the familiar gates of the parking lot,
she's crying -- she knows where she is,
our hearts are pounding,
the tears are starting to sting my eyes,
God, let this be nothing,
Ginny's feeling bad.
The familiar smiling faces of the staff,
they pat us and say "Hello",
we try to smile but the anxiety is choking us,
she's already out of breath and pale,
and the routine has only begun,
Ginny's feeling bad.
The stream of doctors and residents begin,
the same story of symptoms and history again and again,
most have become familiar after all this time but some are new and will know her soon,
God, just take me from this spot, I don't want to do this again,
Ginny's feeling bad.
Sticking her 4, 5, and 6 times for an IV,
turn up her oxygen and let her rest,
back again -- time to stick for blood,
cath her for a urine sample,
suction her for a trache sample,
calm her and bag her through a chest x-ray,
calm her and bag her through a Cat scan,
back to our corner in the ER,
Ginny's feeling bad.
The results are back,
her white count is high,
her trache has pseudomonus,
her urine has prodius,
and her ventricles in her head are filling with CSF,
call all her doctors and tell them she's back,
Ginny's feeling bad.
Enter the unit and greet our hospital family who we see more than our real family,
she's beginning to settle down at the sight of familiar faces, smiles and kisses,
Daddy and I look at each other full of fear, exhaustion and an odd sense of relief,
How long this time? Surgery? Will she go home with us like all the times before?
Or will this be when God says "Enough is enough" and calls our little angel home?
Lord, help us to breathe and take it one minute at a time,
Ginny's feeling bad.
Days turn to weeks,
weeks turn to months,
test after test,
medicine after medicine,
guilt over staying home with big sister,
guilt over leaving big sister to be with Ginny in the hospital,
fast food every night,
prayers and tears every night,
Ginny's feeling bad.
Finally, another homecoming!
Call the nursing agency,
call the medical supply company,
set up all the follow-up doctor appointments,
get the new prescriptions,
get the well-wishes from our hospital family,
Ginny's feeling better.
Home again, home again,
praying over her and caring for her every need,
living, eating and breathing her every movement, sound and breath,
praying it will be a while before the next time,
life is good -- she did return home with us again,
Thank you, Lord, and thank you that ......
Ginny's feeling better.
