My Summer of Job (as in Job in the Bible)

There was a time when all was well in my rose colored world ... then I had children ... reality smacked me in the face and I woke up! My worst nightmare happened about nine summers ago. To me it was of JOB porportions. As my name changed from Mrs. Mac to JOBETTE, friends were spouting, "God won't give you more than you can handle." I wished they would take their words back ... I had heard this line too often. Their intentions were good, but they hadn't walked in my shoes. To begin with, my days were long 24/7 shifts taking care of a very ill baby that had already had six surgeries his first year of life. Then the anticipated first day of summer arrived (with a bang). My older children that had been previously home schooled (until said baby's birth) had just finished up their first year of private school. Here's a rundown of how the summer degressed:
Day 1: Oldest boy gets hit in the left eye with a water baloon and goes blind,
Day 2: Youngest son (infant) gets hospitalized for a week with intestinal problems (this means I must stay in the hospital with him (sixty miles from home).
Day 2: Oldest son must spend one week in bed at a 45 degree incline, only able to get up to use the potty (did I mention he was 15 with lots of energy and had raging hormones?)
Day 3: DH picks up a nasty flu virus while visiting baby in the hospital and freely shares it with the other children at home.
Day 5: My mom arrives to take care of my sick children at home.
Day 6: Oldest daughter sick with flu passes out on bathroom floor with door locked ... ends up in the hospital, same week she begins her first menstral period ... I was at another hospital with sick baby (poor DH and Mom).
Day 8: Dog has cancerous tumor in eye "POP" and vet removes eye.
Day 9: Gang wars break out and DH is called to work for two weeks (away from home).
Day 10: Oldest son must undergo daily checkups at eye doctor for a week.
Day 11-30: Just a blurr, but I had to put dog down.
Day 31: I woke up at 2:30 AM with symptoms of a heart attack. DH calls 911 and within four minutes, five paramedics are standing around my bed. (My only thought was how glad I was to have stayed up until midnight cleaning the house.) They ask, "Have you been under stress lately ... your vitals look normal now." "Uh, just a bit" ... seems my heart attack was really a panic attack having same symptoms.

I have made it a point to never ever tell someone that "God won't give you more than you can handle" ... I believe this to be true but someone going through a rough time doesn't always appreciate hearing that message over and over from well meaning people. Yes, we did survive. Oldest son regained his vision ... and the baby eventually got better, and I learned a lesson about fastideously cleaning the house: When your world is falling apart around you, it's OK to let the dusting and vacuuming go... hire a housekeeper! And have everyone in your circle of friends pray for you. Only with God's strength did we pull through this ordeal.