Post by Eva Marie Ann Dunlap on Sept 9, 2006 2:32:29 GMT -5
This is our Testimony, of God's Miracle Christmas of "2004"
No one ever said life was going to be easy. That saying never rang so true until my husband Bob went to Iowa City for what we thought to be a routine surgery on his aneurysm. Although we understood it to be major surgery we had been told the procedure had been done for years with much success. We had opted to have the big surgery done while he was a candidate for the stint we had been told that it was still new and one would be glued to the doctors hip with that procedure and if it leaked he'd have to have the big one done anyway. So we thought, lets just have the big one and get it over with. It will be a one-time deal. That morning of December 6th, “2004” the day of surgery Bob was the one that drove down to Iowa City. I had talked my sister Darcy into going with us to sit with me during his surgery. Bob kept insisting I shouldn't go alone. While we all had the normal amount of tension knowing it was going to be major surgery. I had no expectations of anything going wrong. My sister Darcy and I were in the waiting room playing on the computer to pass the time. It seems it must have been about 2 hours into the surgery time when the doctor came out and told us they were having problems in the OR. No one knew what was wrong but it was serious. I nodded my head and still did not understand how very wrong things were going. Another hour seemed to pass by and once again the doctor came out to speak to us. He said; you need to know this is very serious. Very, very serious! I knew things must be getting worse but I didn't really grasp what he was even saying then. After about five hours in the OR the doctor came out and told me that they had moved him out of the OR into the ICU surgical unit. Things had become so serious they couldn’t even sew him back up. The surgery had to stop and they had said they had barely gotten started when things went crazy. I was called back to his room and told things did not look good at all. One of the doctors had pulled me aside and said eventually I was going to have to make a decision and that eventually Bob's heart was going to stop. And he said, I advise you not to even resuscitate him, as his heart won’t be able to take it. He said you don't have to decide now.
I must have been in shock when the reality of what he was saying was sinking in. I remember feeling numb all over like this wasn't really happening to me. I made the calls I needed to my family and work and advised them of the situation. And I did what I had to do. I went back into the ICU room to watch my husband of 22 years die before my eyes. I can't remember how many doctors were in that room. When they called me stat back to ICU they were all standing around waiting it seemed. My father and sister and mother came running back to be by my side. I was just standing there by his bed, waiting for something, anything to happen. The hospital preacher had found me in ICU. And had asked what I wanted her to do? I said say a prayer for him. She said do you want me to place him in Jesus hands? I said yes. I stood watching the machines get lower and lower and I remember stepping back and saying out loud. ‘Oh my God, Jesus is taking him!" My father walked around to the end of his bed and I watched as he pinched Bob hard on his toes. He walked to Bobs other side and said, " Bob now’s the time to fight if you’re going to!" The preacher standing by my side asked, are you letting him go? I screamed, " No!" Suddenly the room became very busy. The doctors were all moving around doing what ever they could. His surgeon Hoballah asked me who had done Bob's heart surgery and I said, " Nichols." He seemed to rush from the room. Upon his return he was telling the staff to turn Bob on his side. I stood there quietly as massive amounts of fluid came gushing from Bob’s mouth. The nurse stood there with suction and tried to keep up with it. And I stood there in silence and whispered almost to myself, Oh, my God. I hope it’s not too late. The preacher said; " what?" I said, "He was drowning in his own fluid. I hope it isn’t to late!" She asked, "What do you mean?" I said, it’s been all day; he hasn’t had any oxygen all day." My voice quivered now drained and desperate! Eventually it seemed his fluid had subsided and they were pushing oxygen into his lungs. I remember listening to the doctors all speak as if I wasn’t there. I heard them as they said they had him on 100 percent oxygen already and an oxidation booster machine that they couldn’t leave on for to long. But even then I knew they were pushing beyond their medical knowledge foraging into the unknown medical science. Grasping at what they believed to be useless attempts to save one life. I stood and watched as they put the ventilator on him and spoke about how low his blood pressure had become. There were so many machines in that room that he was hooked up to that the two beds ICU room became a one bed. He was on the brink. Seconds away from death and everyone in the room knew it was a grasp at beating death at his door. I found out later his chances of making it were less than five percent. Sometime later I felt suddenly weak as I would pass out and I sadly said, " I don’t feel very good. I have to go lye down." I left the room that my husband was dying in and lay down on a coach in the waiting room. Some time later the surgeon HobAllah came out and spoke to me. He said, we have done all we can do, I nodded, as he said, I’m going home now to get some rest. Is there anything I can do for you?" I said, "No you have already done all you can. I lay there on the coach curled up in a ball like a baby and felt so very alone. My brother Patrick pushed a coach up to mine and put his arms around me and held me. And it was there I found comfort on that night. I lay there and listened to some of my family joined together in one spirit of support. My brother Kurt and his friend Tom had drove up. My brother Patrick and his wife Justine My sister in-law Jonnie, my niece Rainbow and a friend at the time and my parents we all gathered together in the waiting room. And still I refused to believe the reality of what was happening to my world. I awoke the next morning after a sleepless night to find Bob had made it through the night and that was a miracle of it’s own. The intern doctor that second night had called us back to his room in ICU and said they had turned him on his back and he had coded so they had to pump him to bring him back but he said it only took all of about five minutes. He said I brought him out of the coma just to see if he was there and I wanted you to see this. He said speak to him. There we all stood by his bedside and said "Bob, Bob as he opened his eyes and looked at us. I can’t ever remember feeling such a warm feeling of faith. My sister later said he had squeezed her hand. The doctor said I have to put him right back under but I wanted you to see he was there after all he has been through. They had put him on a rotating bed that was normally used for quadriplegics. After his heart had stopped to help keep the fluids off his lungs. He was put back into an induced coma and strapped to the bed so he wouldn’t fall out of it. And I knew we were blessed to of had even that tiny moment with him. The doctor then looked at us and said, ”So the hope is!” And that was the first time I really felt that yes, there was hope and something we could hold onto. We all joined together at that time and we knew what we had to do. We had to stop wasting time and get to praying to our God, our higher power for a miracle. It was then that my brother and my family and I all joined hands and started to believe. My brother’s wife a nurse said he wasn’t going to make it. But she told my brother what’s more important is what do you think. Patrick said to her, were bringing him home. And it was on that faith she stood with us. He looked at me as we watched the machines and the numbers change on them. And we asked the nurse what those numbers should be. And what was good numbers? My brother looked at me and simply said," I can change those numbers and I said to him, you can?" He said, ’ yes!’ I said, ’ okay’ I had no doubt I just joined with him in working with the nurse on duty and his prayer and getting on the invisible waves. I don’t know how to this day he did it but I swear he did as God is my witness and we watched those numbers change each time we went into that room. Justine, his wife my sister-in-law Jonnie and myself can all give witness to this. The whole family came together in faith. I had called upon the Holy Spirit to fill his room with the protection of God’s almighty light. And called upon a hundred angels to be by his side. My brother the same in his worship called upon Mother Nature and the buffalos’ and eagles and such. I remember standing there across the bed from him and saying, "I don’t know whom your using but I’m using the Holy Spirit and they must be getting along. We even placed my niece Rachel at his bedside for the spirit of a child. Her mother Justine faithfully brought her up with her every weekend to be with us in ICU. I never saw a stronger child around such gloom. She would go into the room with us each time we prayed and stand there bravely at Bob’s bedside and say to him over and over again, “love you Bob!” I’m sure some of the nurses thought we had gone mad in our display of faith. And others couldn’t believe what they saw with their own eyes. I walked out of his room once and the intern doctor pulled me aside and said, "We don’t know what’s going on in that room but there’s some kind of magic and we’re just all staying out of the way." I told her, ’that’s not magic that’s GOD in there. She said he’s in the whole room! I said I know. In the beginning of those days that turned into weeks I remembered a message I had received from God before Christmas. The words that stuck in my mind was I would understand the meaning later and I would call upon him in my faith. And I thought about all the Christmas poems I had already wrapped for our family. God’s spirituality and messages to be heard and I knew then that he knew all of this was going to happen. He knew and had told me way before to draw my strength from him. And it was that strength I used to pray. As I went into that ICU room time and time again to pray. My brother had written a simple poem called GOD’S ROCK that I planned to share with the family this year along with a special message I had gotten from God. And I said to him in those first few days. We have to get God’s Rock here. And it just seemed to be the right thing to do. We had his wife Justine brings up the paper and copies of the simple poem and small plastic bags as we bagged up the poems with one small rock. God’s rock! And that was the faith we stood on that Christmas of 2004. We must have made over five hundred or more. Keeping ourselves busy doing God’s work. I watched as people in the waiting room took those packages and held onto the hope found there. I watched as they spoke of how they were taping the rock in their loved one’ rooms. I watched and I smiled to see such a little thing bring hope. And in those days my brother Patrick stood as God’s rock by his faith with me. And we each gave of our spirits and soul to save his. We joined as one spirit and called upon other spirits to help mend his broken spirit. And we did believe and have faith. We battled the negatives and replaced them with the positives and when we couldn’t see a positive we made one on our own. I learnt what it meant then to ask and go! Don’t think, my brother would say to me, know! And upon my faith I did just that.
My brother Patrick and his wife Justine one day decided to take a break from the hospital and went to good will. Upon their return they had bought all kinds of stuffed animals. They said they were for the children in ICU waiting with other families. And my niece Rachael went around passing them out to kids and I watched the smiles it put on their little faces. God indeed did work in mysterious ways.
As the days past I watched as Bob swelled up like a balloon and became as the incredible hulk only not green and it wasn’t at all cool to look that way. He was so swollen that the edema in his hands was splitting open his skin. I finally had all I could stand and I said to the doctor. My God, how much bigger can he get? I’m afraid he’s going to start splitting open all over. The doctor said well we were pushing the fluids in him because his kidneys weren’t filtering. But they are starting to now so we should be able to give him something to start loosing the fluids. I said, I thought he was producing urine fine and he said, he was but he wasn’t filtering it. I remember feeling very angry as I said, so you didn’t lie to me you just didn’t tell me the whole truth. That’s nice. I felt a million miles away from their medical understanding and didn’t like the feeling at all of not really knowing what the heck was going on. All we did for days on end was pray and pray and pray. It became so normal that I forgot all about the people around us. The doctors and nurses and interns I only knew there was our higher power and us. And Our God was going to hear our prayers. My brother was put in charge of making me eat and shower and take care of myself. He and others took over the phone calls that had become too much for me. And when my brother Patrick and his wife Justine would take a break and leave the hospital to get something to eat. My niece Rachael would say, I’m staying with Eva. Someone’s has to watch her. And I realized how very grown up she was for her young age of nine. All I could deal with was going into that room and praying every chance we got. And we held on to those baby steps that God gave us each day. Even when the darkness closed in he still shone his light down and let us knows he was with us.
We battled together for those five weeks in ICU. When we couldn’t visit we spent quiet time putting together God’s Rock. Writing poetry and drawing and coloring. One night my sister in-law Justine and niece Rachael and I had a contest of writing poetry. We would take turns picking a subject and then we all three had to write one. It was quite fun and very silly when we got done with them. But we needed the humor to help sustain us. Anything to keep our minds busy In fact most nights we would find ourselves laughing hysterically as a positive way to release all the tension we had. It was either that or cry. I gave into crying once when they told me about the blood fungus. I was really starting to feel hopeless and I laid on the coach in the waiting room and cried. My brother came over to me and kneeled down and put his arms around me and simply said. If you need to cry go ahead and cry.
There was even a sixteen-year-old girl that we welcomed to our cubicle that was there for her Grandma in ICU. Her name was Alicia she said to us she was scared to be by herself. So we brought her into our protective fold. We told her our story and she said she never really had faith before. But after listening to us she saw things quite different now. She sat in the T.V. room with us and colored. And drew from our faith.
Another night there was a homeless guy looking for a place to lay his head that we told we had an extra coach in our cubical. He had come in late at night and seemed to be quite upset, there wasn’t any cubicles left to lay his head. I said to him, hey buddy we have an extra coach in our cubicle. He said okay. Funny at that time I never realized he was homeless. It was actually a few days after I had given it some thought and realized it.
Then there was Pops. He was an older man that had been there for months in ICU waiting for his wife to die. It was just a matter of time. My brother and I fixed him up with what we called a pillow top bed with pillows and pushed two coaches together. It was almost like a full size bed. He said that was the best sleep he’d had since he’d been there.
The blood fungus that no one knew how Bob got, what was that anyways? . I remember when they came to us and said that they were having trouble getting rid of the blood fungus and that it was very serious. And we prayed over him that night and I said to my brother Patrick. There must be a way to get in there and get the bad blood out and get the good blood in but I don’t know how. And I fell asleep that night praying to God about just that. The next day the doctors came to us and said Bob was bleeding and they didn’t know from where. I said, if it’s not life threatening don’t do anything right now. He has already been through too much. The next day they had given him a couple pints of fresh blood. And then the next thing I knew they were telling me that the blood fungus was no longer a concern. And I knew that God had taken out that bad blood and the doctors had put the new blood in. It was just that simple for me. I never heard of a blood fungus before.
His lungs full of fluids fighting for his life I remember praying to God about his lungs and asking the Holy Spirit to work through me and use my body as a guide. To use my lungs, my kidneys, my oxygen, my breathe. Funny some how I knew when I asked that he would know what to do. The next day I spoke with a doctor and I said tell me how is his lungs? The doctor said if I showed his x-ray to a doctor that didn’t know he had Acute Respiratory Failure he wouldn’t know it. I said to him. So the lungs healed themselves? And he looked in awe at me and repeated, so the lungs healed themselves. As I smiled knowing that the Holy Spirit had indeed healed his lungs as I had prayed. And those words God gave me to share with my family came back to me again and again with the clear message it held. .
The doctors came to us again another day and said he will need some level of assisted living. They didn’t feel he was there. They felt it had been just too long for him to go without oxygen. "I said, no your wrong! He’s there! We have been communicating with him. And I walked to Bob’s side of the bed and said, Bob you don’t listen to those doctors do you hear me? We didn’t come this far for you to give up now. You’re a better man than that. You fight! Do you hear me you fight! Patrick and I both went in that night and spoke to Bob. We asked him to come out of his peaceful place and get to work. That the doctors needed to see him move I remember saying to Bob, just concentrate on one thing. One finger or a toe put all your effort into that one spot and try to move it. I said remember when you had polio as a kid. It’s just like that Bob. And I asked him to let the wild horses go and give them the lead. They would find their way home. And Patrick also spoke to him alone. And I asked Patrick can’t you catch a wave into his brain? There must be a way to get in there. And he said, it’s like the phones ringing but he doesn’t answer it. He has to answer it or we can’t talk to him. Later that night after he spent time alone with Bob he told me he was able to get in to him on the wave. All I know is the next day he moved his fingers for us. And I was excited. When I told the nurse they refused to believe he was doing it. They said he is just moving sporadically. I said no, you are wrong. He is there. I went in to his room one night and he lay there uncovered and I thought about how he hates to get cold. And I asked the nurse; can you get him a blanket? He hates to get cold. She just looked at me. Finally she went and got him a sheet. The doctor came and found us in the ICU shortly after that and said yaw know it’s a good thing you guys spoke to him before because other wise why are we doing all this if he is already brain dead. I agreed this was true. He said maybe it was just too long for him without oxygen. I said, No you are wrong! He is there! My brother walked over to us and agreed. Hoballah said okay I’m with you guys. And he walked away.
I believe it was Christmas Eve when God gave us our Miracle and we saw life breathed back into Bob’s body. Rachael had been left in charge of me while my brother and wife went to get something for us to it. I had heard about the Hospital having a service for Christmas Eve So I asked Rachael if she wanted to go with me. She said yes. So we found the room and floor they was having it on. And I thought about my family what they would all be doing at home. It has been a family tradition for some time now to go to the Christmas Eve candle light service at Church. This year they went with a few less of us. I said, to my brother and wife, lets pray for Miracles to happen tonight for everyone in ICU. And so we did. We’ll never know how many prayers God answered that night. We only know we prayed in his light. With the faith of knowing, not hoping or wishing but knowing! And even on Christmas in that ICU waiting room the families decorated their cubicles and celebrated Christmas with faith. I called my family who had gathered at my brother Kurt’s house and asked the Christmas message I received be read to them while I was on the phone. And I listened to them cry as it took three of them to read it. And my sister Darcy said, this is the worse Christmas I have ever had. And I said no! This is the best Christmas I ever had. What better gift to receive then the gift of life. This is truly what Christmas is about. Not all the presents. And I will always remember this as the Christmas we came together in faith. And all became part of a Miracle that was always God’s plan. And he said believe in my name and I will do great things. In your faith be yee renewed. I wrote the poem BABY STEPS and watched as my brother Patrick worked Bob’s arms and legs and did therapy with him as the help was all off for the holidays. And he would take Bob’s hand and put pressure on it. He said it was sending dorphins to his brain. And upon their return Bob was sitting up in bed and able to move his knees up and down. And they didn’t know what happened. But we did. Every time something negative came up I would say out loud, “God has given us a miracle and he’s going to see it through! And that was the faith I stood on.
They prematurely after five weeks in ICU decided to move Bob out of ICU onto a monitored floor. I was not happy with the care he received to say the least and questioned what a monitored floor meant. My brother who had been with me the whole time had gone home two days prior and I had fallen apart very quickly. He had written me a stay positive letter and I might as well have tossed it into the wind. I was so short fused and frustrated with Bob’s care or lack of it in my eyes that I walked the hallway and literally sobbed. Feeling totally frustrated and torn. Tired and beaten and worse of all alone! It was then I made the decision it indeed was time to come home to gain a different prospective on his level of care. In the beginning he seemed to know me but at other times not. I could tell he was very confused and I encouraged him to sit up and try to move. My brother told him to do ices metrics in his bed. The first day in rehab I remember he told them not today. Tomorrow. And they left him in bed. The second day I was there and said oh no, you said that yesterday you have to do this. I know you can. And he tried because he was too proud to do anything else. I watched as he took those first few steps and stopped and said I can’t do this! And I watched as he asked for a walker that gave him support and safety as he built his strength. One day my dad showed up with our Lab Bear. He brought him right into the hospital. I couldn’t believe he got him in his car. But there he was in Bob’s room and Bob had the biggest smile on his face. He went right to Bob’s side and sat. Then I brought pictures in from home of when Bob had worked on our house and he said that was the turning point for him. When he started to realize who he was. And things kept coming back to him after that. They told me he would be in rehab for six to eight weeks. He came home in three. He defied all the odds and said I am going home! I've had enough of hospitals and it’s enough. I'm going home. And they knew his determination and stood aside as he walked with his head held high that day. Without a walker and without a cane, without an arm to lean on! Proud! His rehab doctor called him John Wayne for his true grit I think.
No one ever said life was going to be easy. That saying never rang so true until my husband Bob went to Iowa City for what we thought to be a routine surgery on his aneurysm. Although we understood it to be major surgery we had been told the procedure had been done for years with much success. We had opted to have the big surgery done while he was a candidate for the stint we had been told that it was still new and one would be glued to the doctors hip with that procedure and if it leaked he'd have to have the big one done anyway. So we thought, lets just have the big one and get it over with. It will be a one-time deal. That morning of December 6th, “2004” the day of surgery Bob was the one that drove down to Iowa City. I had talked my sister Darcy into going with us to sit with me during his surgery. Bob kept insisting I shouldn't go alone. While we all had the normal amount of tension knowing it was going to be major surgery. I had no expectations of anything going wrong. My sister Darcy and I were in the waiting room playing on the computer to pass the time. It seems it must have been about 2 hours into the surgery time when the doctor came out and told us they were having problems in the OR. No one knew what was wrong but it was serious. I nodded my head and still did not understand how very wrong things were going. Another hour seemed to pass by and once again the doctor came out to speak to us. He said; you need to know this is very serious. Very, very serious! I knew things must be getting worse but I didn't really grasp what he was even saying then. After about five hours in the OR the doctor came out and told me that they had moved him out of the OR into the ICU surgical unit. Things had become so serious they couldn’t even sew him back up. The surgery had to stop and they had said they had barely gotten started when things went crazy. I was called back to his room and told things did not look good at all. One of the doctors had pulled me aside and said eventually I was going to have to make a decision and that eventually Bob's heart was going to stop. And he said, I advise you not to even resuscitate him, as his heart won’t be able to take it. He said you don't have to decide now.
I must have been in shock when the reality of what he was saying was sinking in. I remember feeling numb all over like this wasn't really happening to me. I made the calls I needed to my family and work and advised them of the situation. And I did what I had to do. I went back into the ICU room to watch my husband of 22 years die before my eyes. I can't remember how many doctors were in that room. When they called me stat back to ICU they were all standing around waiting it seemed. My father and sister and mother came running back to be by my side. I was just standing there by his bed, waiting for something, anything to happen. The hospital preacher had found me in ICU. And had asked what I wanted her to do? I said say a prayer for him. She said do you want me to place him in Jesus hands? I said yes. I stood watching the machines get lower and lower and I remember stepping back and saying out loud. ‘Oh my God, Jesus is taking him!" My father walked around to the end of his bed and I watched as he pinched Bob hard on his toes. He walked to Bobs other side and said, " Bob now’s the time to fight if you’re going to!" The preacher standing by my side asked, are you letting him go? I screamed, " No!" Suddenly the room became very busy. The doctors were all moving around doing what ever they could. His surgeon Hoballah asked me who had done Bob's heart surgery and I said, " Nichols." He seemed to rush from the room. Upon his return he was telling the staff to turn Bob on his side. I stood there quietly as massive amounts of fluid came gushing from Bob’s mouth. The nurse stood there with suction and tried to keep up with it. And I stood there in silence and whispered almost to myself, Oh, my God. I hope it’s not too late. The preacher said; " what?" I said, "He was drowning in his own fluid. I hope it isn’t to late!" She asked, "What do you mean?" I said, it’s been all day; he hasn’t had any oxygen all day." My voice quivered now drained and desperate! Eventually it seemed his fluid had subsided and they were pushing oxygen into his lungs. I remember listening to the doctors all speak as if I wasn’t there. I heard them as they said they had him on 100 percent oxygen already and an oxidation booster machine that they couldn’t leave on for to long. But even then I knew they were pushing beyond their medical knowledge foraging into the unknown medical science. Grasping at what they believed to be useless attempts to save one life. I stood and watched as they put the ventilator on him and spoke about how low his blood pressure had become. There were so many machines in that room that he was hooked up to that the two beds ICU room became a one bed. He was on the brink. Seconds away from death and everyone in the room knew it was a grasp at beating death at his door. I found out later his chances of making it were less than five percent. Sometime later I felt suddenly weak as I would pass out and I sadly said, " I don’t feel very good. I have to go lye down." I left the room that my husband was dying in and lay down on a coach in the waiting room. Some time later the surgeon HobAllah came out and spoke to me. He said, we have done all we can do, I nodded, as he said, I’m going home now to get some rest. Is there anything I can do for you?" I said, "No you have already done all you can. I lay there on the coach curled up in a ball like a baby and felt so very alone. My brother Patrick pushed a coach up to mine and put his arms around me and held me. And it was there I found comfort on that night. I lay there and listened to some of my family joined together in one spirit of support. My brother Kurt and his friend Tom had drove up. My brother Patrick and his wife Justine My sister in-law Jonnie, my niece Rainbow and a friend at the time and my parents we all gathered together in the waiting room. And still I refused to believe the reality of what was happening to my world. I awoke the next morning after a sleepless night to find Bob had made it through the night and that was a miracle of it’s own. The intern doctor that second night had called us back to his room in ICU and said they had turned him on his back and he had coded so they had to pump him to bring him back but he said it only took all of about five minutes. He said I brought him out of the coma just to see if he was there and I wanted you to see this. He said speak to him. There we all stood by his bedside and said "Bob, Bob as he opened his eyes and looked at us. I can’t ever remember feeling such a warm feeling of faith. My sister later said he had squeezed her hand. The doctor said I have to put him right back under but I wanted you to see he was there after all he has been through. They had put him on a rotating bed that was normally used for quadriplegics. After his heart had stopped to help keep the fluids off his lungs. He was put back into an induced coma and strapped to the bed so he wouldn’t fall out of it. And I knew we were blessed to of had even that tiny moment with him. The doctor then looked at us and said, ”So the hope is!” And that was the first time I really felt that yes, there was hope and something we could hold onto. We all joined together at that time and we knew what we had to do. We had to stop wasting time and get to praying to our God, our higher power for a miracle. It was then that my brother and my family and I all joined hands and started to believe. My brother’s wife a nurse said he wasn’t going to make it. But she told my brother what’s more important is what do you think. Patrick said to her, were bringing him home. And it was on that faith she stood with us. He looked at me as we watched the machines and the numbers change on them. And we asked the nurse what those numbers should be. And what was good numbers? My brother looked at me and simply said," I can change those numbers and I said to him, you can?" He said, ’ yes!’ I said, ’ okay’ I had no doubt I just joined with him in working with the nurse on duty and his prayer and getting on the invisible waves. I don’t know how to this day he did it but I swear he did as God is my witness and we watched those numbers change each time we went into that room. Justine, his wife my sister-in-law Jonnie and myself can all give witness to this. The whole family came together in faith. I had called upon the Holy Spirit to fill his room with the protection of God’s almighty light. And called upon a hundred angels to be by his side. My brother the same in his worship called upon Mother Nature and the buffalos’ and eagles and such. I remember standing there across the bed from him and saying, "I don’t know whom your using but I’m using the Holy Spirit and they must be getting along. We even placed my niece Rachel at his bedside for the spirit of a child. Her mother Justine faithfully brought her up with her every weekend to be with us in ICU. I never saw a stronger child around such gloom. She would go into the room with us each time we prayed and stand there bravely at Bob’s bedside and say to him over and over again, “love you Bob!” I’m sure some of the nurses thought we had gone mad in our display of faith. And others couldn’t believe what they saw with their own eyes. I walked out of his room once and the intern doctor pulled me aside and said, "We don’t know what’s going on in that room but there’s some kind of magic and we’re just all staying out of the way." I told her, ’that’s not magic that’s GOD in there. She said he’s in the whole room! I said I know. In the beginning of those days that turned into weeks I remembered a message I had received from God before Christmas. The words that stuck in my mind was I would understand the meaning later and I would call upon him in my faith. And I thought about all the Christmas poems I had already wrapped for our family. God’s spirituality and messages to be heard and I knew then that he knew all of this was going to happen. He knew and had told me way before to draw my strength from him. And it was that strength I used to pray. As I went into that ICU room time and time again to pray. My brother had written a simple poem called GOD’S ROCK that I planned to share with the family this year along with a special message I had gotten from God. And I said to him in those first few days. We have to get God’s Rock here. And it just seemed to be the right thing to do. We had his wife Justine brings up the paper and copies of the simple poem and small plastic bags as we bagged up the poems with one small rock. God’s rock! And that was the faith we stood on that Christmas of 2004. We must have made over five hundred or more. Keeping ourselves busy doing God’s work. I watched as people in the waiting room took those packages and held onto the hope found there. I watched as they spoke of how they were taping the rock in their loved one’ rooms. I watched and I smiled to see such a little thing bring hope. And in those days my brother Patrick stood as God’s rock by his faith with me. And we each gave of our spirits and soul to save his. We joined as one spirit and called upon other spirits to help mend his broken spirit. And we did believe and have faith. We battled the negatives and replaced them with the positives and when we couldn’t see a positive we made one on our own. I learnt what it meant then to ask and go! Don’t think, my brother would say to me, know! And upon my faith I did just that.
My brother Patrick and his wife Justine one day decided to take a break from the hospital and went to good will. Upon their return they had bought all kinds of stuffed animals. They said they were for the children in ICU waiting with other families. And my niece Rachael went around passing them out to kids and I watched the smiles it put on their little faces. God indeed did work in mysterious ways.
As the days past I watched as Bob swelled up like a balloon and became as the incredible hulk only not green and it wasn’t at all cool to look that way. He was so swollen that the edema in his hands was splitting open his skin. I finally had all I could stand and I said to the doctor. My God, how much bigger can he get? I’m afraid he’s going to start splitting open all over. The doctor said well we were pushing the fluids in him because his kidneys weren’t filtering. But they are starting to now so we should be able to give him something to start loosing the fluids. I said, I thought he was producing urine fine and he said, he was but he wasn’t filtering it. I remember feeling very angry as I said, so you didn’t lie to me you just didn’t tell me the whole truth. That’s nice. I felt a million miles away from their medical understanding and didn’t like the feeling at all of not really knowing what the heck was going on. All we did for days on end was pray and pray and pray. It became so normal that I forgot all about the people around us. The doctors and nurses and interns I only knew there was our higher power and us. And Our God was going to hear our prayers. My brother was put in charge of making me eat and shower and take care of myself. He and others took over the phone calls that had become too much for me. And when my brother Patrick and his wife Justine would take a break and leave the hospital to get something to eat. My niece Rachael would say, I’m staying with Eva. Someone’s has to watch her. And I realized how very grown up she was for her young age of nine. All I could deal with was going into that room and praying every chance we got. And we held on to those baby steps that God gave us each day. Even when the darkness closed in he still shone his light down and let us knows he was with us.
We battled together for those five weeks in ICU. When we couldn’t visit we spent quiet time putting together God’s Rock. Writing poetry and drawing and coloring. One night my sister in-law Justine and niece Rachael and I had a contest of writing poetry. We would take turns picking a subject and then we all three had to write one. It was quite fun and very silly when we got done with them. But we needed the humor to help sustain us. Anything to keep our minds busy In fact most nights we would find ourselves laughing hysterically as a positive way to release all the tension we had. It was either that or cry. I gave into crying once when they told me about the blood fungus. I was really starting to feel hopeless and I laid on the coach in the waiting room and cried. My brother came over to me and kneeled down and put his arms around me and simply said. If you need to cry go ahead and cry.
There was even a sixteen-year-old girl that we welcomed to our cubicle that was there for her Grandma in ICU. Her name was Alicia she said to us she was scared to be by herself. So we brought her into our protective fold. We told her our story and she said she never really had faith before. But after listening to us she saw things quite different now. She sat in the T.V. room with us and colored. And drew from our faith.
Another night there was a homeless guy looking for a place to lay his head that we told we had an extra coach in our cubical. He had come in late at night and seemed to be quite upset, there wasn’t any cubicles left to lay his head. I said to him, hey buddy we have an extra coach in our cubicle. He said okay. Funny at that time I never realized he was homeless. It was actually a few days after I had given it some thought and realized it.
Then there was Pops. He was an older man that had been there for months in ICU waiting for his wife to die. It was just a matter of time. My brother and I fixed him up with what we called a pillow top bed with pillows and pushed two coaches together. It was almost like a full size bed. He said that was the best sleep he’d had since he’d been there.
The blood fungus that no one knew how Bob got, what was that anyways? . I remember when they came to us and said that they were having trouble getting rid of the blood fungus and that it was very serious. And we prayed over him that night and I said to my brother Patrick. There must be a way to get in there and get the bad blood out and get the good blood in but I don’t know how. And I fell asleep that night praying to God about just that. The next day the doctors came to us and said Bob was bleeding and they didn’t know from where. I said, if it’s not life threatening don’t do anything right now. He has already been through too much. The next day they had given him a couple pints of fresh blood. And then the next thing I knew they were telling me that the blood fungus was no longer a concern. And I knew that God had taken out that bad blood and the doctors had put the new blood in. It was just that simple for me. I never heard of a blood fungus before.
His lungs full of fluids fighting for his life I remember praying to God about his lungs and asking the Holy Spirit to work through me and use my body as a guide. To use my lungs, my kidneys, my oxygen, my breathe. Funny some how I knew when I asked that he would know what to do. The next day I spoke with a doctor and I said tell me how is his lungs? The doctor said if I showed his x-ray to a doctor that didn’t know he had Acute Respiratory Failure he wouldn’t know it. I said to him. So the lungs healed themselves? And he looked in awe at me and repeated, so the lungs healed themselves. As I smiled knowing that the Holy Spirit had indeed healed his lungs as I had prayed. And those words God gave me to share with my family came back to me again and again with the clear message it held. .
The doctors came to us again another day and said he will need some level of assisted living. They didn’t feel he was there. They felt it had been just too long for him to go without oxygen. "I said, no your wrong! He’s there! We have been communicating with him. And I walked to Bob’s side of the bed and said, Bob you don’t listen to those doctors do you hear me? We didn’t come this far for you to give up now. You’re a better man than that. You fight! Do you hear me you fight! Patrick and I both went in that night and spoke to Bob. We asked him to come out of his peaceful place and get to work. That the doctors needed to see him move I remember saying to Bob, just concentrate on one thing. One finger or a toe put all your effort into that one spot and try to move it. I said remember when you had polio as a kid. It’s just like that Bob. And I asked him to let the wild horses go and give them the lead. They would find their way home. And Patrick also spoke to him alone. And I asked Patrick can’t you catch a wave into his brain? There must be a way to get in there. And he said, it’s like the phones ringing but he doesn’t answer it. He has to answer it or we can’t talk to him. Later that night after he spent time alone with Bob he told me he was able to get in to him on the wave. All I know is the next day he moved his fingers for us. And I was excited. When I told the nurse they refused to believe he was doing it. They said he is just moving sporadically. I said no, you are wrong. He is there. I went in to his room one night and he lay there uncovered and I thought about how he hates to get cold. And I asked the nurse; can you get him a blanket? He hates to get cold. She just looked at me. Finally she went and got him a sheet. The doctor came and found us in the ICU shortly after that and said yaw know it’s a good thing you guys spoke to him before because other wise why are we doing all this if he is already brain dead. I agreed this was true. He said maybe it was just too long for him without oxygen. I said, No you are wrong! He is there! My brother walked over to us and agreed. Hoballah said okay I’m with you guys. And he walked away.
I believe it was Christmas Eve when God gave us our Miracle and we saw life breathed back into Bob’s body. Rachael had been left in charge of me while my brother and wife went to get something for us to it. I had heard about the Hospital having a service for Christmas Eve So I asked Rachael if she wanted to go with me. She said yes. So we found the room and floor they was having it on. And I thought about my family what they would all be doing at home. It has been a family tradition for some time now to go to the Christmas Eve candle light service at Church. This year they went with a few less of us. I said, to my brother and wife, lets pray for Miracles to happen tonight for everyone in ICU. And so we did. We’ll never know how many prayers God answered that night. We only know we prayed in his light. With the faith of knowing, not hoping or wishing but knowing! And even on Christmas in that ICU waiting room the families decorated their cubicles and celebrated Christmas with faith. I called my family who had gathered at my brother Kurt’s house and asked the Christmas message I received be read to them while I was on the phone. And I listened to them cry as it took three of them to read it. And my sister Darcy said, this is the worse Christmas I have ever had. And I said no! This is the best Christmas I ever had. What better gift to receive then the gift of life. This is truly what Christmas is about. Not all the presents. And I will always remember this as the Christmas we came together in faith. And all became part of a Miracle that was always God’s plan. And he said believe in my name and I will do great things. In your faith be yee renewed. I wrote the poem BABY STEPS and watched as my brother Patrick worked Bob’s arms and legs and did therapy with him as the help was all off for the holidays. And he would take Bob’s hand and put pressure on it. He said it was sending dorphins to his brain. And upon their return Bob was sitting up in bed and able to move his knees up and down. And they didn’t know what happened. But we did. Every time something negative came up I would say out loud, “God has given us a miracle and he’s going to see it through! And that was the faith I stood on.
They prematurely after five weeks in ICU decided to move Bob out of ICU onto a monitored floor. I was not happy with the care he received to say the least and questioned what a monitored floor meant. My brother who had been with me the whole time had gone home two days prior and I had fallen apart very quickly. He had written me a stay positive letter and I might as well have tossed it into the wind. I was so short fused and frustrated with Bob’s care or lack of it in my eyes that I walked the hallway and literally sobbed. Feeling totally frustrated and torn. Tired and beaten and worse of all alone! It was then I made the decision it indeed was time to come home to gain a different prospective on his level of care. In the beginning he seemed to know me but at other times not. I could tell he was very confused and I encouraged him to sit up and try to move. My brother told him to do ices metrics in his bed. The first day in rehab I remember he told them not today. Tomorrow. And they left him in bed. The second day I was there and said oh no, you said that yesterday you have to do this. I know you can. And he tried because he was too proud to do anything else. I watched as he took those first few steps and stopped and said I can’t do this! And I watched as he asked for a walker that gave him support and safety as he built his strength. One day my dad showed up with our Lab Bear. He brought him right into the hospital. I couldn’t believe he got him in his car. But there he was in Bob’s room and Bob had the biggest smile on his face. He went right to Bob’s side and sat. Then I brought pictures in from home of when Bob had worked on our house and he said that was the turning point for him. When he started to realize who he was. And things kept coming back to him after that. They told me he would be in rehab for six to eight weeks. He came home in three. He defied all the odds and said I am going home! I've had enough of hospitals and it’s enough. I'm going home. And they knew his determination and stood aside as he walked with his head held high that day. Without a walker and without a cane, without an arm to lean on! Proud! His rehab doctor called him John Wayne for his true grit I think.
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