Hospital rooms can become places of divine encounter.
One experience in particular forever changed how I see hospital walls.
It was December 2012. I woke up that morning excited because I was preparing to travel from the United Kingdom to Nigeria for Christmas. It had been three long months since I had last seen my family, and the thought of finally reuniting with them filled my heart with joy.
My journey was scheduled to begin at Manchester Airport, with a connecting flight through Frankfurt before arriving in Abuja.
However, things didn’t go as planned.
Because I had little experience with international travel at the time, I missed my first flight. I had to reschedule for the next day and spent the night in a hotel near the airport. The stress of the situation, combined with months of academic pressure, the exhaustion of winter, and freezing temperatures, had already weakened my body.
But I pressed on.
Once I boarded the plane the following day, something felt wrong.
At first, I assumed the discomfort in my body was simply the strain of travel. But within minutes, the pain intensified rapidly. What started as discomfort became excruciating.
I quickly reached for the painkillers I always carried while traveling, but they brought no relief.
The pain kept rising.
I tried different sitting positions. I shifted in my seat. Nothing worked.
Eventually, I realized I needed help.
I called one of the flight attendants. She immediately responded with compassion and concern. But as she observed my condition, she quickly realized the situation was beyond what she could manage.
An announcement was made across the aircraft requesting medical professionals on board.
Two doctors responded.
They examined me, but unfortunately they did not have the medications needed to treat a severe sickle cell crisis.
The flight attendants did everything they could. They moved me to the business class section and laid me across three seats. Two of them stayed beside me throughout the flight, trying to comfort me as waves of unbearable pain tore through my body.
The two-hour flight felt like an eternity.
But praise God, we landed safely in Frankfurt.
Just before things worsened, I managed to make one phone call to my husband, Paul, who was waiting at the airport in Abuja with our children.
At the time, international calling systems were not as simple as they are today, and I did not realize I needed to change my SIM card before calling Nigeria.
Yet something miraculous happened.
The call went through on the very first attempt.
I briefly explained that I was in serious pain, though neither of us realized how severe the situation truly was.
Then the network dropped.
When I tried to call again, it would not connect.
Soon after that, my memory faded.
The next thing I remembered was waking intermittently in the Intensive Care Unit of University Teaching Hospital Frankfurt.
Doctors and nurses had already begun life-saving treatment.
While I was unconscious, they inserted a central line, administered IV medications, placed me on oxygen, inserted a catheter, and attached heart monitors. The medical team worked tirelessly to stabilize my condition.
The next day, I received two pints of blood because severe anemia had set in.
For five days I remained in the ICU under close monitoring.
Then, by the grace of God, I improved enough to move to the general ward.
Five days later, I was discharged.
Ten days earlier I had boarded a plane excited about Christmas with my family.
Instead, I found myself in a German ICU fighting for my life.
Yet through that frightening experience, one truth became crystal clear to me:
God was there.
He was there in the airplane.
He was there in the ambulance.
He was there in the ICU.
He was there in every doctor and nurse who cared for me.
Hospital rooms may look clinical and cold, but they are not empty.
God’s presence fills those spaces.
And once again, He preserved my life.
“…For He Himself has said, ‘I will never leave you nor forsake you.’”
— Hebrews 13:5b (NKJV)
Praise Declaration
Today I praise God because even in medical spaces, His presence never left me.
Pain2Gain Signature
Pain2Gain reminds us that even in our deepest pain, we are never alone. God is always with us, and His intervention can become a pathway to praise, purpose, and God’s glory.
