90 Minutes in Heaven_ A True Story of Death & Life - Don Piper [56]
“Yeah, that’s right. One of them especially—man, it hurts real bad.”
“Is your sister there yet?” When he said she was, I ordered him, “Put her on the phone.”
He didn’t argue and she picked up the phone. “Thank you,” she said. “I appreciate so—”
“Listen to me,” I said, interrupting her. “I want you to call an ambulance right now. Take your brother to the hospital as fast as you can get there. He has a serious infection in that leg. If he doesn’t get there soon, he’s going to lose his leg.”
“You think so?”
“I’m telling you. He has all the symptoms. He’s probably got a fever too. Have you checked?”
“Yes, that’s right. He’s running a fever.”
“Get him to the hospital immediately. Call me afterward.”
The next day she called. “Oh, you were right! He has an infection, and he was in terrible shape. They gave him all those antibiotics. They said he got there just in time, and he’s doing better today.”
“I assume he’s still in the isolation unit.” When she said he was, I added, “I’m going to come and see him.”
As a minister I could get in to see him. I went to the hospital, talked to him, and prayed with him. Eventually that young man turned to Jesus Christ.
If I hadn’t been on that TV show and his sister hadn’t watched it, he might not have only lost a leg; there is a strong possibility that he would have died. Not only had God used me to save the young man’s physical life but I had been an instrument in his salvation. That was just one more instance of my beginning to see that God still has things for me to do here on earth.
I had immediately recognized the problem because it had happened to me when I was still in the hospital. I had gotten an infection and began hurting badly. I thought it was just part of the pain I’d have to go through. Then a nurse discovered that I had infection in one of those pinholes.
I remembered then how days before, one of the nurses apparently had cross-contaminated the pinholes. She was a surly type and never showed me compassion like the others. She came in and did her work, but she acted as if she resented having to work with me.
They used Q-tips, and they had been instructed to use a new one to clean each hole. I had noticed that this time, the nurse didn’t get a fresh Q-tip each time, probably because it was faster not to reach for a new one. I didn’t think anything about that until after the hole became infected. My added pain had come about because of her laziness. Once they discovered the infection and my elevated temperature, they rushed me into the isolation unit, where I stayed for two weeks. While I was there, no one could visit me.
Eva complained and told the doctor what happened. I never saw that nurse again, so I don’t know if they fired her or transferred her.
As much as I enjoy public speaking, few opportunities excite me more than speaking at my alma mater, Louisiana State University (LSU). My wife and I met at LSU, and two of our three children also studied there.
One of the on-campus organizations where I have spoken on several occasions is the Baptist Collegiate Ministry (BCM). While Nicole was a student at LSU and served as one of the officers in that group, the BCM invited me to speak. Knowing she would be in the audience made the experience even more delightful.
Among the many campus activities the BCM sponsored was a Thursday night praise and worship service called TNT. The committee asked me to speak to them about my accident.
The students advertised my talk all over campus as “Dead Man Talking.” Because so many showed up, they scheduled two back-to-back services. As I spoke, the audience seemed mesmerized by the story of a man who died and came back to life. I spoke of heaven, answered prayer, and miracles. I told them about singing “What a Friend We Have in Jesus” in the car with Dick Onerecker.
As each service ended, the praise band led us in a chorus of that meaningful song. I didn’t know they were