Praying for Daylight article, Part 2 of 3

My husband Randy, an ordained minister and pastor, is a happy sort, always laughing and having fun.  He was raised in a very warm, loving and faith-based environment.  It was that strong faith and confidence in God that kept us on the right path all along. In many ways, I learned from Randy about trusting in God and having that ongoing relationship with Him. It was what I learned from Randy that kept me focused during the next days and months.

I suffered a second Torsades episode and inexplicably survived. The next hours and days are a blur.  The heavy doses of medication took over.  I was in and out of consciousness. I remember very little about that time. A couple things really stick out in my mind. I remember my husband Randy sneaking the baby into my room in ICU so I could see him.  I remember sneaking out of ICU in a wheelchair with my nurse to hide in a supply closet behind the newborn nursery so I could hold the baby for a few fleeting moments.  Other than that, I was void… void of all understanding and emotion because of the medication.   

Hiding in the supply closet...

I was initially diagnosed with Atrial Flutter which is a heart arrhythmia disorder. In laymen’s terms, the top two chambers of my heart do not exactly contract; they flutter and typically beat between 240 – 400 beats per minute. Later, I was also diagnosed with other Atrial Fibrillation.  I remember one evening, the I.C.U. doctor, who was a diminutive man with a kind face and always holding a clip board, told my husband, “there isn’t anymore we can do for her. We will have to wait and see.”  I heard Randy loudly say, as he grabbed the lapels of the doctor’s lab coat, “Yes, there is something we can do.  We can pray!”  The doctor shook his head in sympathetic agreement and patted him on the arm and retreated from the room looking intently at the floor, as if the answers were in the linoleum.

Randy took a long deep breath, staring at the vacant space where the doctor had stood.  He finally turned to me and unsteadily walked toward my ICU bed.  He knelt at my bedside.  His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep and bouts of tears. I asked him to pray with me.  As he held my hand, through his tears, he choked through the prayer.  After a moment, I said, “We need to talk.”  Randy was a little surprised, “About what?”

“You need to send the bank (my employer) a death certificate so they can pay on the life insurance policy.”

            “NO!”

“Randy, we need to talk about this.”

            “NO!”

“There is another small life insurance policy in the desk drawer at home.”

            “NO!”

“I want you to sell the house. Make sure my mom is taken care of and move back to Alabama with the baby.  I want you to raise him there with your family.”

            “NO! We’re not talking about this.”

“We have to talk about it.”

            “No, God’s going to heal you.”

“But what if it is my time?”

            “I don’t believe that! God didn’t bring us this far to let it end now!”

“Well, just in case…”

            “NO! We can’t lose you.  The baby needs you… I need you.”

After a few very difficult and tear filled moments, I quietly reminded him, “Just remember what I said.”

Randy left that night unsure if he would ever see me alive again.    To be continued...