Shawn P. B. Robinson

This post is a continuation of a series looking back to my experience in 2017 with Encephalitis. For the previous post, click here.

Monday, February 6, 2017

On Monday, I woke up to the familiar sound of a nurse walking into my room, giggling over the thought of what she was about to do to my belly. Some nurses could do it with less pain than others, but I think they were just the less experienced ones. The ones that knew what they were doing could get a cry of pain each time.

I think on that Monday, I asked if they HAD to do it. She said yes and then went all gladiator on my belly.

I had an EEG on the Monday, I believe. Much of these memories are pretty garbled in my mind. It’s possible the EEG happened on the Sunday or Tuesday. I’m pretty sure it actually happened, I just don’t know when. They hooked me up to a machine that would tell them if my brain was doing funny stuff. It wasn’t doing much of anything. Feel free to interpret that any way you like.

I continued to struggle with the fear and the pain of the possible loss my family would be experiencing. I think I might have come to this point on the day before, but it is difficult for me to remember the timeline well. I did, after all, have a viral infection that was wreaking havoc in my brain.

I can remember coming to a point of trust. I realized something. I do believe that I have an eternal hope in Jesus Christ for my life and my future and my eternity. I trust Jesus with my life… that is my faith. As I continued to pray through the matter of my life in light of my family, I believe God brought me to the point where I knew if I could trust God with my future, I could also trust Him with my family. It was a matter of belief and faith that I could give them up to God, knowing He would care for them.

I found peace in that moment. For sure, I did not want my family to have to go through the loss of their husband and dad, but I now know that they will be cared for by God, by family, and by our loving church family.

By this point in the process, I could see they were looking to send me home soon. It was not because I was “out of the woods” in the sense of the encephalitis, but I had reached a point where they did not need to keep me in isolation, and there wasn’t too much more they could do for me there.

They wouldn’t let me leave the room (isolation… remember), so I was itching to get moving. I couldn’t wait to go home.

One of the many things I didn’t understand, however, was that the isolation room was exactly what I needed at the time. I didn’t learn that until I went home.

To be continued…

To follow the next part of this journey, click here.