We went to my local hospital which is a very small community hospital, but I had prayed and believed that was where I needed to go. They admitted me because my oxygen saturation was too low and could not be sustained on its own. Because I tested positive for covid, I was not allowed any visitors. Because it is a small hospital, the patient rooms are at ground level and the boys could come visit outside the window in my room and we would talk on the phone. It wasn't the same as being with them, but it was better than not seeing them at all.
The doctors were awesome and respected my wishes of not being intubated, no matter what. One doctor later told me that they had found that intubation works for many things, but seemed to make covid pneumonia worse. Needless to say, I did not need to get any worse. I had pneumonia in both lungs. Not only was I hospitalized, but my mom was in a different hospital with covid. It was killing me not to be able to be there for her, but I realized for once, I had to focus on getting better myself.
The hospital staff kept telling me that I did not present as a typical covid patient and looked great, we were just having trouble keeping my oxygen stable. On 2/14/22 I had a terrible headache that I couldn't shake. I remember at one point that night praying and asking God to take my headache away. I acknowledged that He must know how much it hurt because He shed drops of blood for me when Jesus prayed in the garden before He was crucified. At some point that night my headache subsided and I was able to sleep.
The next day, however, they told me I was not getting better. They scanned me for blood clots and found none. They increased my oxygen and at some point that afternoon they put on a high flow oxygen mask. The best way I can describe it is imagine standing in front of a very high powered fan. The air is blowing in your face so strongly that you can't catch your breath. That is how I remember feeling. I kept telling them I couldn't breathe and I wasn't going to be able to sleep with that air blowing so hard. In retrospect, it was probably the effects of not getting enough oxygen in my lungs, because they kept telling me I was breathing and just to try to calm down. At some point that night, I woke up out of a restless fog and my bed was surrounded by nurses and doctors doing an EKG and bloodwork and all kinds of things. One nurse in particular, Heather, was so sweet and calming. She explained that one of my blood tests was just a little off and they were doing some additional tests. She told me to imagine in my mind that I was redecorating her house and to focus on that.
After a while, I was alone again and I remember so vividly what happened next. In my mind there was a button on the wall and if it turned to a certain number, I knew I was in trouble. I remember playing a song on my phone, "I Speak Jesus." And I prayed. I said, "God, it hurts to breathe. And I know that you know exactly how it feels, because you suffocated when you were crucified on the cross for me. I am asking you now to breathe for me, because I don't think I can." And ya'll, in my mind, I saw finger like veins spreading through my lungs, filling up with blood. As the tears ran down my face, I felt such a peace and calm. I was able to sleep at some point. I remember the nurse coming in and taking the high flow mask off and just putting the regular oxygen cannula in place. I remember eating breakfast, and I remember the doctor coming in.
We had a habit when he did his rounds of calling Joseph and putting it on speaker phone so the doctor could give Joseph a report on how I was doing. He had learned it was easier that way than for the boys blowing his phone up asking how I was. Anyway, he came in and said, "Can you get Joseph on the phone?" I did and when he answered, the doctor leaned on my hospital table, put his head in his hand and said, "Joseph, you mom has made the most remarkable recovery in the past 6-8 hours that I have ever seen. I am humble enough to say that there was nothing that I and my white coat did. This was a miracle of God."
What I did not know and did not find out until I came home several days later was that the staff had spoken with Joseph that night and told him they didn't know if I was going to make it. They were close to calling the family in to come say good bye to me. Joseph had people all around the world praying for me. Michael, Brian and the whole family had been praying. God heard and answered our prayers. I cannot tell you the blessings I received while in the hospital. Hearing from all three of my boys the prayers they were praying and giving the situation over to God, knowing His will would be best.
It has taken me a year to get back to where I was, but it has been a journey. I came home on February 22, 2022 and my mom went home to heaven March 23, 2022. Baby Charlotte was born October 8, 2022 and I broke my leg the Sunday before Thanksgiving. There has been a whole lot of living done in the past year, some good and some were a bit of a struggle. But the fact is, I lived. God lives in me and I try to let Him live through me, although sometimes I get in the way and try to do it on my own.
It is hard to believe a year has passed and even harder to believe that March 7, 2023 will be seven years since David passed. I could not have survived without God. I know that with every fiber of my being. I don't know what He has planned for me, but I know He has a plan. I just need to continue trusting Him and know that it is for my good. I told Him I want to live for Him and will share my story with whoever will listen. Through a set of circumstances that can only be credited to God, I am now facilitating my second 13 week group sessions of GriefShare at our church. I pray that He will use me to bring His comfort and healing to those who are hurting.
I will extol, you, O Lord, for you have drawn me up and have not let my foes rejoice over me. O Lord, my God, I cried to you for help, and you have healed me. O Lord, you have brought up my soul from Sheol; you restored me to life from among those who go down to the pit. Sing praises to the Lord, O you his saints, and give thanks to his holy name. For his anger is but for a moment, and his favor is for a lifetime. Weeping may endure for the night, but JOY come in the morning. Psalm 30:1-5
And, oh how I Thank GOD for my mornings!
Thank you all for your prayers for me and my family. You are truly a blessing.
