I
was involved in the very first car accident of my life on February 14, 2008. I
thankfully was not hurt, but as a result I learned my health was failing me.
I
had been complaining for some time about being tired and having no energy, but my
doctor didn’t seem too concerned. I had “other” health issues which he paid
closer attention to and pretty well just shrugged my lethargy off as being a part
of my health issues. Over the next couple of years, I complained more and more
about being constantly tired. But alas, the endless tests showed nothing. I reached
a point where I almost felt guilty for even being alive. I was doing so little,
I did not even have the energy to do my housework. I rode an electric scooter to
the grocery store. I picked up dinner on the way home. But what I did best, was
to lie on the couch and watch television. This went on for a couple of years
and got progressively worse, but still, no cause was found. I had no life, I
did nothing, and I finally decided I was just lazy. I would MAKE myself do
things, but my attitude about just being lazy just wouldn’t go away. I found it
extremely difficult and was unable to make myself do things. I couldn’t even do
things I enjoyed.
My
life revolved around watching television and “resting” and I was getting really
tired of it. Sick and tired, but I refused to get depressed about it. But, I
finally had to admit that I was beginning to not care much about anything. I
had had it! This has gotten completely out of hand, my life had no quality
whatsoever and I wanted to know why. I was sent to another doctor for a consultation
(he had previously consulted me several
times to no avail, so hope was not really at the top of my list with this appointment).
I finally got to see him and he took a sample of my blood and sure enough, my
blood count and iron levels were very low and he didn’t like it. He was also conducting
other blood tests, but would not have the results until the following week. These
blood tests would, I hoped, give some definitive answers as to what was wrong with
me and hopefully lead him to what should be done next. So I made an appointment
for the following week to discuss my results.
I
had made plans to go to Atlanta for a few days and meet a friend who was attending
a friends’ wedding and I needed to do some shopping for my business. I was
miserable and exhausted the entire time and glad I was going to see the “new”
doctor when I returned home to Nashville.
When it was time to return home, my frined packed my care for me, as I could not do it, and put the last few things ready for me to take out to my car when I left the next morning. She was also getting her things packed and ready to go and said she would help me, but I thanked her and said I could handle it from here. She woke me up the next morning to say goodbye and asked if I needed a wakeup call. I told here there was no need and after she left I started to get myself ready. I was dragging. I was exhausted. I didn't have to dress as I had slept in my clothes. So I washed my face, combed my hair, brushed my teeth and got my purse. I was ready to go. When I reached the car I started it, backed out and headed for the fast food drive through and ordered a large water with limes; I took a long soothing drink and felt better. And off I went to head for the interstate. That is the last thing I remember.
I
drove for nearly 50 miles on the four lane interstates and I don’t remember a
thing about it. By all accounts I was unconscious, I know this sounds
unbelievable, it does to me, but I really don’t remember a thing. Numerous 911
calls were made regarding my erratic driving, weaving all over the road, and
crossing over lanes and back again. Large trucks were trying to guide me and
blowing their horns when I would begin to weave. Police cars and sheriff cars
were following with lights and sirens blowing trying to keep me from crossing
the median and going head on into the oncoming lanes of traffic. I remember
absolutely none of this!
These
are bits and pieces and parts of stories that were told to me after all of this
had happened. Apparently the sheriff maneuvered on the inside left of me and the
traffic slowed down and moved out of the way while he and another sheriff
“guided” me across four lanes of traffic and to the side of the road and where
I eventually stopped. How, I do not know! They came to my car, one on one side and
two on the other, again what I was told is that they kept hitting the window yelling
for me to lower it. I guess I finally did, because I had no broken windows. The
sheriff saw I was in bad condition and they moved me to the passenger’s seat,
without waiting for paramedics one of them got into my car and drove to Gordon
County Hospital in Calhoun, Georgia, this is the next state to Tennessee where
I live.
They
thought I was dead when we arrived. Still unconscious in the hospital, no one
knew how to reach any of my family or friends to inform them, so someone went to
my car for my purse and found my cell phone. It was ringing, it was my friend
Carolyn calling me to see if I was home yet. The doctor spoke with her and told
her where I was and that I was in a critical condition. Carolyn then called my
husband and told him all she knew, gave him the number to the hospital and the
name of the doctor so he could call.
A
blood test revealed that my hemoglobin was under six and my iron levels were at
a complete zero. I had lost a huge amount of blood and my iron stores were
completely depleted. They quickly started the process of matching my blood so I
could receive a blood transfusion immediately. I was admitted to the hospital
and my husband and daughter arrived early the next morning. I was receiving my
second blood transfusion and iron intake.
The
doctor came to see me as soon as my husband arrived to try to get some
information from him regarding my condition. He told the doctor that I had
missed my appointment with the doctor the day before and could not get into to
see him again for at least a month. So the doctor called my doctor and told him
of the urgency and if he could not see me, I would be kept in Calhoun hospital.
The doctor said he would arrange for an appointment to see me. I was informed
that after I received another transfusion of blood and iron, I might be able to
be taken back home.
I
was told to stay in bed and rest until I went to see my doctor in Nashville.
I
arrived back home and took the advice from the hospital until my next
appointment. After more blood tests, my doctor informed me my iron stores were
still depleted and my blood count was still critically low. I was then sent to
another doctor who was the only one in Nashville that conducted a particular
test. I saw him immediately. I was going to swallow a capsule camera and it was
going to go through my body and take over 55,000 pictures. This was my only
chance to find out where the blood was being lost. All previous tests had not
been able to show where the blood was being lost nor why.
My
insurance company informed me that I wasn’t covered for this particular test,
so the doctor gathered information from all my doctors and wrote a letter to
the insurance company explaining the urgency of the test. The test was
approved. It was a simple test. I had a computer strapped around my body and I
swallowed a camera. I just had to be back at the hospital at 4pm to remove the
computer. I would be notified when the results were back.
I
got a phone call informing me the results had been sent to my doctor and he
would explain everything to me and take care of it. I went to see him the next
day. He said I was a very critically ill girl. There was however, one more test
he wanted done before he pronounced his diagnosis and that the test would be
the next morning. I was stunned. I thought I’d had just had the test of all
tests and now he needed one more before he would tell me what was wrong. Okay,
I was in tears. I left his office and went to my husband in the waiting room
desperate for a hug.
It’s
fairly hard to move me into a fear mode, but exhaustion and exasperation were unwelcome
friends that lived inside me and this news just about sent me over the edge. But,
I did what he told me to do I went for the “little” test the next day and
arrived at 7am. I drank large amounts of a nauseating, chalky liquid and then
began the long wait for it to make its passage through my body into my lower
intestines. I walked out of there at 4pm in the afternoon, again exhausted,
weak and weeping. But, I would get the results tomorrow. Finally! I thought
whatever my problem may be, we would finally get an answer tomorrow. Or,
perhaps not!
The
next morning arrived and this time I wanted my husband to be with me. I wanted
him to hear all that was said….and to be there to support me and tell me to
quit crying and it was going to be okay. We sat down. The doctor came in. “Well,”
he says, “You have a huge pool of blood located in the bottom of your small
intestine and you are well into Crohn’s Disease. This is in a critical state
and I am sending you for surgery.” I looked at my husband and back at the
doctor. I said, “In the name of Jesus, I do not have Crohn’s Disease and I do
not have a pool of blood in the bottom of my intestines. Every test you have
taken has told you I do NOT have Crohn’s Disease, even the one yesterday.” “Yes,”
said my doctor, “but I know you have it. I have suspected it from the
beginning.” I asked “Why have you never even mentioned you thought I had it?” I
really gave him no time to respond, I just said again, “In the name of Jesus
Christ, my Healer and my Healing, I do not accept that disease in my body.” He
then began telling me I was in denial, it was hard to accept, but I had to accept
it. I asked him if he thought the
test of all tests was wrong. Did he think the test I had yesterday was wrong? Were
the blood tests that he had done wrong? Was everything wrong? Did he think that
the only thing that was right was his diagnosis of Chron’s disease?
I
stood up and excused myself and my husband and said I was not accepting his
diagnosis and I was going to go speak with the specialist. He told me I could
not. His office said the specialist would not see me and that I should not call
them myself. In a defiant mode, when I left my doctor, I called the specialists
office and Lisa, his nurse asked what was going on. I told her. She said she
would call me back in a few minutes. She spoke with the specialist and I was in
his office in approximately thirty minutes.
The specialist talked to me and my husband and showed us the “images”
that showed the two holes in two different parts of my intestine. He explained
that neither of the previous procedures could reach this area and that was why
I had to swallow the camera which found the holes and thus they could be
repaired. He went on to tell me now that they had been found and they knew
exactly where they were, they could be repaired fairly simply. They were about
five inches apart, one below one curve and the other on the top of the curve. This
was the problem. This would get worse because my body could never keep up with
the blood it was losing and I would have to keep having blood transfusions
forever and probably one would “rip” and finally I would bleed uncontrollably. So
it was settled, I would have the procedure in a couple of days’ time. Let’s go.
I am ready! There was no fear. There was only peace. There was something else
that I couldn’t really put my finger on, but it was a good something. I now
know it was the Lord comforting me and telling me I was healed in His name.
When
I awoke in the recovery room, my husband was holding my hand and there were
tears in his eyes. The doctor was sitting in the chair next to my bed just
shaking his head. He had more images in his hands and he was just looking back
and forth at them. I said, “What is wrong?” He said, still shaking his head,
“Nothing is wrong. When I got in there BOTH holes were completely closed.” He
is a believer, but he is a doctor and he was completely taken a back. He showed
us the “camera” images and the holes and then he showed us the images from the
procedure earlier that day and the holes were gone. He had no explanation
except that Jesus had indeed completely healed them. I had told him also, that
“I was healed in the name of Jesus,” and he never denied it could happen, but
he had never seen it. Now he had!
I
began feeling better almost immediately. Better than I had in the five years I
had been suffering with anemia. I went back to Atlanta
about six months later to meet my friend there once again. It was indeed an
altogether different trip. On the way back home to Nashville, I went by the
hospital in Calhoun. I approached the young lady at the reception counter and I
told her who I was, when I was admitted and that I wanted to come by and meet
the doctors and nurses who cared for me. She said that information was private
and that it could not be given out. I understood that, but I was the patient I
explained. I had identification. I was really trying to get the girl at the
desk to let me talk to someone as I really had appreciated how they cared for
me and I had some things to tell them and questions. She finally said to wait
just a minute and when she returned there was a lady with her who invited me into
her office. I was telling her the “story” of my visit and I began to notice
people were gathering behind me. I kind of turned around and they all had tears
in their eyes. One young man told me he was the first one to see me when I was
brought in. He took my vitals, etc., I was completely unconscious and even he thought
at first I was gone. The young girl at the desk said she thought it was me when
she saw me, but I looked so “different”, but she still thought it was me. Then
another girl who came in said she was the one that did, this and that, and
still another…the Supervisor was the nurse in charge the day. They, she said,
had talked about me many times, wondering if I had made it. How was I? She even
said the sheriff and some of the deputies had asked about me. No one knew
anything. We were all crying by this time. It was a glorious time. She told me
all the details about the 911 calls, etc. I told her I knew that it had to be
angels surrounding my car and guiding the other cars away from me. She looked
straight into my eyes and with tears streaming down her face said, “Baby,
angels were all over the interstate but Jesus Himself was driving your car. You
were completely unconscious when pulled over and completely unconscious for
several hours after coming here. It had to be Jesus driving the car, because
you certainly were not.”
Even
I had never thought of it in that particular way. I knew angels were about and
Jesus was guiding them. But, sitting in my car, me sitting in the lap of Jesus,
resting in His arms as He drove my car was almost more than I could comprehend.
WOW! What more could I say.
When
I got back I went to talk to the specialist and he said he believed I was
“hovering” between life and death at that moment and probably the reason I
could remember nothing about it was because if I did, I would have seen the
activity of the angels all around and I would have known I was in the arms of
Jesus. Had I known that, I would never have wanted to “come back” so it had to
be wiped from my memory completely. WOW again!
In
July of 2012, I began to really understand the magnitude of this entire
experience that had been going on for nearly five years. This is when I began
to know I had to get my testimony, my miracle and my encounter with Jesus out
to everyone. But, how could I do it. I was 67 years old. I am not a writer, nor
speaker. I am just me.
Then
in January 2013, I was still consumed with
having to tell my story. So, I began writing it. It just got completely out of
control and I had written 48 pages and I was still nowhere near where I thought
I was supposed to be. So, I just quit…..left it alone and started over with
this. So here it is, a part of my miracle.
My
friend that I spoke of earlier is not a believer, but she knows I am….she just
thinks I am a little over the top with it. She believes in God, but does not
know Jesus. She does not understand why I do not live in fear. I just tell her
doctors tell us facts, and facts can change, but God gives us His Word, and His
Word NEVER changes. She just shakes her head.
