Michael, a young man in his late teens, had presented, through the ER, with symptoms of extreme pain, nausea, and headaches. His family stated that he had recently been on a year long church mission in Mexico and they feared he had contracted some sort of parasite or something. After extensive testing for everything imaginable, Michael's medical state was unexplainable. All of his tests were negative. The hospital opted to keep him overnight anyway for further tests and observation.
I, at that time, was a Phlebotomy Technician. It was my job to go in and collect Michael's blood for testing. When I entered the room, I immediately felt a weird sensation throughout my body. I could tell that something just wasn't right. His family proceeded to tell me of his mission trip and his symptoms. His mom stated that he had not been himself since he returned from Mexico. They also shared with me that he had been uttering another name this entire time as well, David. Something they hadn't shared with the hospital staff for fear of judgement. As I walked over to Michael's bed, I got goosebumps all over. I will never forget his face. It was as if he knew that my spirit was a threat to his. I watched his face morph into some sort of demonic state as his forehead crunched, his eyes became dark and glassy, and his mouth appeared to be somewhat of a gaping hole to nowhere. "Michael?" I said, "I am here to draw your blood. Your family told me you weren't feeling well after your trip. You want to talk about it?" Michael simply growled at me like a wolf seeking prey.
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I turned to Michael's family, because I knew they were very religious, and asked them if they would mind giving me some private time with him. I told them that I wanted to pray over him. They were happy to oblige, and couldn't believe that someone, in this setting, would actually do this.
I must say, I was a little uneasy. After all, I had been thinking heavily about adjusting my own lifestyle and getting back into the church, but had made no significant steps toward doing so. I really didn't feel qualified to pray over this young man, but my heart and soul were compelled to. I asked one of the nurses assistant's to keep people out of this room for a short while, but she insisted on joining me. She suggested that two people coming together for the same purpose were better than one, as the Bible states. I was happy to have her.
She grabbed one of his hands and I grabbed the other. I asked him who was inside of him, and with a gut-wrenching voice, his response was "David". "There are three others here as well." He said, which unnerved me even more. However, it was too late to turn back now. I had to try and help Michael.
"Tired." He responded. "Something's been really wrong with me lately." I told him that we had just come together to pray over him with his family's permission, and that he should be feeling much better now. I told him however, that he was still in a weakened state and that he had to remain prayerful on his own and continue to indulge in the word of God. He smiled at me, and I must say, compared to the initial response I had gotten from him, this felt amazing.
I summoned his family and continued on to draw his blood. I received hugs from everyone and went on to my next patient. I was quite a bit drained after this experience, but happy to have been there to help. I don't know why God chose me to provide this service on this day, especially when my own soul wasn't all the way right. However, I am honored to have been chosen nonetheless, and proud of being obedient.
I've never seen or heard from Michael or his family again. Wherever they are, I pray they are well and continuing to lean on each other and God for support.
