At 4:31 am on Sunday, November 6th, my parents got the phone call that no parent ever wants to get. It was me, from my dorm room, crying. I had been in pain for most of the night, and had reached the point where I wasn't sure if I needed to go to the hospital or not. Long story short, I did. Less than 10 minutes after I hung up the phone with my parents, I was in a car heading for the ER. Soon after we arrived, I was admitted and quickly taken care of by doctors. My mom was at my side in about 45 minutes. By 9 am, I was resting comfortably and awaiting the results of my CAT scan. By 11 am, I was discharged and on my way home. By Tuesday, November 8th, I was back at school. Luckily, what I had thought was an appendicitis turned out not to be so. Instead, I walked away now informed about the functional ovarian cyst inside my body and directions to go to some follow-up doctors to confirm what the ER doctors had found.

So why do you care to read about my hospital saga that started out my week? You probably don't. But I did a lot of thinking in the time I spent resting after the ER visit, and now I feel like I need to share it.

Let me start by saying, the only other time I have ever been to the hospital for my own medical needs besides last week was my birth. My birth, people. I've lived on this earth for 19 years and somehow, by the grace of God, I have never had a medical emergency (besides the time I stuck my tongue to a frozen pole and had to rip it off, but we didn't go to the hospital for that one). So going to the emergency room at 4 in the morning was super scary for me, especially since I was away from home and wasn't even sure if my pain was severe enough to be worth a hospital visit.

But despite the fact that this was a really scary first-time ER visit really early in the morning, and despite the fact that I have to live with a painful cyst that will take a while to go away, I feel blessed. Because every step of the way, there were little blessings that I'm sure were straight from God. Let me tell you about them.

Both my parents and my boyfriend answered their phones on the first call. I was positive that I'd have to dial them more than once and let their phones ring a lot before they'd pick up. But miraculously, both answered and were alert as soon as I needed them to be--something I can't stop being grateful for.

After I called my boyfriend and his roommate, who were driving me, they came down and picked me up in about 3 minutes--I barely even had time to put on shoes before they were ready to go. We got to the hospital in record time.

When I walked into the waiting room, I expected it to be full of people, every person's nightmare when they are in an emergency situation. Instead, there was one other man sitting there. I was admitted in less than 20 minutes.

My nurse was a gift. He was funny, experienced, and made sure I was comfortable as soon as I was in a gown. My CAT scan tech made me laugh. Even other nurses that weren't assigned to me were sweet and caring.

My mom drove an hour and twenty minutes without encountering any problems and was by my side almost as soon as I was in the hospital bed.

I didn't have anything scheduled for that afternoon, so I was able to head home without worrying about any prior commitments.

The biggest blessing? I didn't have to have surgery, and now I know what was causing my pain.

Everyone has heard the hospital horror stories, and I'm sure some of you have even experienced them--but I am so happy to say that they didn't happen to me. I was blessed, even by a hospital visit. Sometimes we don't know why God puts us in difficult situations, but you can always count on there being blessings even in the midst of trials. God is good, all the time.