Jeremy took a trip to the emergency room last night. He had been having chest pains since Saturday evening, and on Sunday evening, his left arm began tingling during church.

The four of us drove to the hospital after dire warnings from Jeremy's grandpa regarding the lack of urgency the emergency room attendants would employ. Thankfully, his grandpa lives in another state, and our emergency room attendants considered Jeremy's chest pain to be very urgent. They immediately gave him a curtained off room and a stretcher. I got stuck with the paperwork.

Kimmie stayed with Liberty in the waiting room, and I was allowed to be with Jeremy after I finished filling in the blanks. When I pulled back the curtain, Jeremy's chest was exposed and several plastic coated wires had been adhered to his skin. He lay on the hospital bed looking very weary and slightly shaky. I can only remember one time that he has been to see a doctor since I met him in 1997, and my mind struggled to grasp the concept of his 28 year old body hooked to machines. The screen on the one closest to him displayed four lines travelling across the monitor that blipped and jagged depending on his body rhythms.

At first, two or three nurses in the room performed different duties, but after the blood was drawn and the EKG had been taken, only one popped in and out. I sat on a rolling stool on the right side of the bed and held Jeremy's hand. We didn't speak very much at first, and I briefly considered what my life would be like if Jeremy died. I would need to sell the house, and choosing where to live after that would affect all of my other decisions. That's about as far ahead as I was capable of thinking at the time. Jeremy informed me that I had better marry a nice man who would be very godly.

I thought to myself how nice, godly men probably wouldn't be extremely hard to find (although I know several women who would contradict that), but finding one who would even come close to measuring up to Jeremy would be just about impossible to find. That thought made me VERY sad. Jeremy's my best friend. He's the one I turn to for logic, stability, shelter, love, reality, pointing me back to God. I told him this, although he has already heard it from me many times in the past. He told me several times that he loved me, and his voice trembled with feeling. We both wondered if it would be the last time we shared those words.

Then the doctor came in and declared that Jeremy had pulled a muscle in his chest, probably while lifting Liberty with her car seat. Ha-ha!! :-) My big, strong man sheepishly peeled the adhesive pads from his chest and pulled his shirt back on over his head while the nurse coiled the wires and replaced them on the nearby machines. Jeremy signed the necessary paperwork, and the four of us strolled out to our car about an hour and a half after we had arrived.

Throughout the rest of the evening, he clutched at his heart in assumed pain whenever he needed to do any Liberty carrying. Although, he did make a nice supper for us once we got home. :-)