On Saturday, my mother couldn’t leave the hospital in a car because she had a widow maker.
Upon her request, I called a few people, including their pastor and Sunday school teacher (who prayed over the phone with me as I drove), who both said they’d put her on the prayer list at church. I also called my Aunt Betty, who said the same.
I went and picked up Bill, and the nurses at the VA said they’d be praying for wisdom and guidance for the doctors.
I had many, many messages from people here that they were keeping her in their prayers or were thinking good thoughts, whatever it is they do in such times.
Sunday morning, the new cardiologist came in, having studied the films and her records and was pretty sure that rather than open heart surgery, the problem could be fixed with a procedure called Endo Acab, which is essentially band-aid surgery for opening blockages in the heart.
People were still calling and writing, telling me that they were in prayer or meditation, meanwhile, and her blood pressure remained low and stable, and she kept telling me that she wasn’t nervous or afraid, she just knew that it was going to be fine.
There was an episode in which she panicked because Bill had taken a nap and she couldn’t wake him, and when she did, he had chest pains, but the nurses came and had him transferred to the ER. I ran up there and he was sitting up on the gurney, waiting to go back upstairs, perfectly stable, his blood pressure 107/63. The doctors all looked for a reason to admit him, but no cigar, so back he went.
Monday morning, the cardiac team assembled and they all studied the notes and during rounds came in and told us the blockage wasn’t, in fact, as bad as had been presumed, but was only about 60% (anything below 70% is generally not tinkered with), and could easily be stented if it beomes necessary. And anyway, they didn”t think that was causing the pressure in her chest, so they wanted to do a PET scan.
She went that afternoon and had her scan and it came back negative. I got a text with the results and the information that she didn’t need a procedure at all.
The calls and messages were still coming in – people were still praying or waving chicken bones around, whatever it took.
She does have to see an endocrinologist and go off her meds for diabetes and go on insulin (which will simplify things so much), and she’s grossly anemic, and she will have to follow up with a cardiologist regularly for the rest of her life, but it’s a good outcome, it’s the best outcome.
She also has to see a gastroenterologist because they think the pain was caused by reflux. And she needs to see some other -ologists too.
Friday afternoon, a cardiac cath showed she could have a heart attack at any second. Today, four days later, she and Bill got in the car with their friends and went out to dinner before heading back to Dublin.
So. Do you believe in miracles?