Hi everyone ~
I am often reluctant to discuss spiritual matters because these things are so deeply personal, yet in this instance I don't think it would be quite fair of me if I didn't share with you all what happened to me last year.
As some of you already know, I've been in very poor health since my pregnancy with Maxi and in 2001 (at age 44) I had a quadruple bypass with many really horrific complications. Still, we thought it was worth the long recovery because the grafts were expected to last 20 years. Mine lasted 20 months. No longer a candidate for further open heart surgery, we are all doing whatever we can to gain me enough time to see Maxi raised as old as possible.
Last year, an additional complication of my diabetes caused us to decide it was time to amputate my lower right leg. I hated that decision with all my heart, but it came down to my leg or my life, and so for Maxi, I agreed.
Well, all my on-line friends got quite concerned that if I was hospitalized for longer than the scheduled 13 days, they'd have no way of finding out what was happening. So I created an email list and sent it to my friend Teresa in Oklahoma. The original plan was simple: A local pal would visit me in the hospital then call or email Teresa who would get the word out. It seemed like a reasonable arrangement, especially because I was only expected to be away from home for 13 days. So I hired a professional nanny for Maxi and went off to the hospital trying to trust God as best as possible. I'm a pretty big baby, though, and so one of my sisters drove up here from PA to be with me, and my priest dedicated himself to staying close at hand.
From what I learned later, the surgery went well but the following day I had cardiac arrest twice. Then the next day, Maxi's 8th birthday, I had cardiac arrest twice more and went into respitory failure and slipped into a coma.
Things got very bad from there. The doctors told my family not to expect me to survive or even wake up again. Maxi was brought in to say good-bye. My priest gave me Last Rites. My sisters were planning to fly here to pack up my apartment.
Six weeks later, I woke up, much to the amazement of everyone. I will never forget that first moment of awareness. I was laying there with my eyes closed, listening. I was listening to the sound of people praying and I could recognize individual voices. I slowly turned my head and opened my eyes, fully expecting to see my friends and family gathered. There was no one there. I simply thought: "Oh, they've been with me every step of the way!"
Later on I found out the rest of the story. When things first started going downhill for me, my pal Angel sent a panic email to Teresa who alerted everyone. All these people from all over the world took the situation to their home churches. Literally thousands of people of every description from all manner of faiths who had never even heard of Maxi and I started praying and holding us closely in their love. It was a massive effort.
Recovery was slow and more difficult than I can even explain. After 8 weeks of taking nothing by mouth, I was taught to eat and drink again. I was taught how to roll over, sit up, stand. I learned penmanship once more. The trache was finally removed from my throat and my vocal cords began to heal. I had another heart attack and another cardiac arrest and more surgery. Yet my friends never let go of me once, not once. I was flooded with affection and attention. People really cared, really cared.
On Christmas Eve, I made my first public appearance since the surgery. Some ladies from my church arranged for the wheelchair van to transport me to the evening service. Oh, what rejoicing there was that happy, holy night! I got so many hugs, pats and kisses by everyone in the place, I think I went home a bit bruised by all that loving -- kinda like the Velveteen Rabbit.
I personally do not believe it would have been possible for me to have died six times and been successfully resusitated UNLESS there had been much love and prayers for me. I believe those are the things that sustained Maxi and I through the difficult time.
Because of my friends, many of whom I have never met face-to-face, I feel like the most fortunate woman on earth. In whatever time remains to me, I want to reach out with all I have got and spread this nearly tangible love around, spending it with both hands.
My motto is: "All shall be most well, all manner of things shall be most well."
Merme