Prayers

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GOD ANSWERS PRAYER

This is my story of how God answers prayer.
It was Monday, February 27, 1989. When I woke up, my hands felt like they were still asleep and I was tired, but I knew I had a busy two days ahead so I kept going. By 10 AM, after several cups of coffee, I was still more tired than usual and my hands still felt asleep. You have had it; that tingling feeling. But, when I washed my hands in normal cold tap water, it felt like ice water. Somehow, I made it through the day, but I was exhausted. The next day, it was the same thing. My wife, being the smarter of us, scheduled a doctor’s appointment. After completing the forms with numb hands, I spent several minutes answering the doctor’s questions. I was a little concerned when he tested my reflexes and I had little reflex. He asked lots of questions, but did not make any diagnosis.
The next day I woke up at 3 AM, early even for me, and was having difficulty moving. I don’t like calling in sick, but I had to this day. Before I could call the doctor, he had already called my office and was told I called in sick. He immediately set up an appointment at the hospital for a spinal tap test. It tests for one of two diseases. If you don’t test positive for one, they assume you have the other. No problem they said, you will be ok……..as long as you don’t move. Well, in a little while, I had the results. I had Guillaine Barre Syndrome. I said “What?” I figured anything with “syndrome” attached to it could not be good. Since my children were 1 and 3 years old at the time, my wife had gone home to be with them. For precaution, they were putting me in ICU. They wanted to make sure I did not stop breathing overnight. Not exactly a comforting thought. They said my wife could pick me up the next day and take me to the other hospital in town that was equipped to deal with the disease. So, I called her and asked her to pick me up at the hospital at 10 AM and, by the way, you need to come to ICU. Not exactly comforting to a mother with a 1 and 3 year old.
So the next morning, we moved to the other hospital to begin treatment. Now, as I found out, there is no cure, just treatment to reduce the amount of damage. See, Guillaine Barre, attacks the central nervous system through the bloodstream. They have a treatment called plasmapheresis, which simplified; means take out the bad plasma and put in the good plasma. Since they cannot test for Guillaine Barre, they have to use artificial plasma. That day, I had my first treatment. It lasted 2 hours and they just “capped” the spot because they would have to do more. Due to the chance that I might stop breathing, they kept me in ICU. My days consisted of alternating taking blood samples and testing my breathing every 2 hours. I had another treatment on Thursday, but then had to skip 2 days because artificial plasma has no antibodies. Then, on Sunday, 7 days after first noticing symptoms, I woke up and was completely paralyzed from the neck down. (Now, there are those who would say that ever since I have been paralyzed from the neck up, but I try not to listen to them.) I have to admit that I was frightened. Not of dying (at the time, they did not tell me there was a chance I would die), but of having to live like that.
To top it off, it was a North Texas early March ice day. Fortunately, a friend of ours volunteered to bring my wife to the hospital. It meant a lot for me to see her that day. Although, she had to be almost as frightened as me. Unless you have been there, it is hard to explain how paralysis feels. I could not sleep because I could not move to get in a comfortable position. I could not scratch an itch. However, I could feel the bed sores forming because I was on my back most of the time. Also, ICU is not exactly a quiet place. And again, they were coming in every 2 hours to either take my blood or check my breathing. To check my breathing, I blew into something that looked like a breathalyzer. It had a line drawn on it that the needle was supposed to reach when I blew into it. If my breathing is not adequate, I would have to go on a ventilator; something I knew I did not want. There were times I could not blow hard enough, but I begged for the chance to keep trying until I could get that dreaded needle high enough. With being awakened every 2 hours and not being able to move, I did not get much sleep. The next two days, more plasmapheresis and lying around.
As the doctors tried to explain what was going on, the ICU told my wife the visiting hours so she would know when to come visit. My wife is not a stubborn person, but she told my doctor to tell ICU that she would come whenever she wanted and stay as long as she wanted. Even though it had to be difficult to watch me go through this and she had two small children to take care of at home, she came in every day. She took the time to feed me at least one and sometimes two meals a day. I was not very hungry so meal time took patience and time. Something the ICU nurses just did not have time to give. My wife made sure they washed my hair and kept me clean. She fought for me when I could not fight for myself. My wife showed much greater strength and love than I did.
I was actually moved out of ICU for a few days, but then back again.
Finally, on March 30th, after 30 days in the hospital, 16 in ICU, 13 plasmapheresis treatments and way too many Adams Family reruns, they said I had stabilized enough to move to rehab. I called my wife in tears because I saw this as great progress. I was getting better. Since I still could not move except for my right arm (barely), they moved me in an ambulance.
At the time, I was the youngest patient there (I said this was a long time ago). Everyone could not believe someone so young was there. Everyone else was there to rehab from a stroke or heart attack.
The first day, they strapped me to a board that tilts so that they could slowly get my body accustomed to sitting up again. When I was up to a 45% angle, I began to get dizzy. I then realized that this was going to be a longer recovery than I thought. They poked and prodded me for 5 days. They weighed me and, at 5’6”, I was down to 115 pounds. A weight I had not seen since junior high school. Also, I had developed Bell’s palsy and so one-half of my face was normal (at least normal for me) and the other half drooped. I looked like the old Batman nemesis, Two Face. It also made eating and drinking difficult. I could only use one side of my mouth so it was hard to eat and I had to drink from a straw. Otherwise, only half of the liquid made it in my mouth.
The food was actually not bad. Not home cooking mind you, but not bad. I ordered each meal from a menu and ate breakfast, lunch and dinner in bed. And, since they wanted to fatten me up since I had lost a lot of weight, I was given two packages of ice cream with EVERY meal. They were the containers of ice cream they used to give us in elementary school with the flat wooden spoons.
On April 5th, after 5 days in rehab, they gave me their medical assessment of my condition and estimated length of my rehab. I was excited to hear the news. However, it was not the news I expected. They told me it would be at least 3 months, but most likely 6 months to rehab. In fact, they had September 30th down as my departure date. I was devastated. I could not believe it was going to take so long. After 2 days drowning in my pity, I did what any red-blooded American male does when backed into a corner. I got mad. Even though I still could only move my right arm and head, I decided to set a goal. I told everyone that I was going to get out by the end of May. Although friends, family, church members, and I prayed for my goal, most did not want me to set, what we all thought, was an impossible goal. Not that they did not support me, they were afraid that I would get depressed again when I missed the goal. However, I had a personal interest in my prayer. I wanted to get better.
Every Monday through Friday, they would stretch my legs and arms. It was painful. It is amazing how much my muscles had tightened and atrophied. My wife would come by every day and sometimes bring the kids to encourage me. She had the tougher job. She had to watch me and take care of two little kids who had no idea what was going on. One Saturday, I was watching TV and reading a magazine. However, my hands were still not 100% so I dropped the magazine on the ground. Since I was still in a wheelchair, I rolled over to the magazine and bent down to pick it up. I was so proud of myself when I got it, but there was a problem. I could not lift myself up. I truly had “fallen and couldn’t get up.” Finally, a nurse heard me and lifted me up. Not a fun experience. After a while, they decided I should eat at least breakfast with the others in rehab. So, I rolled down the first morning. Most were ok, but not a morning person among them. They brought in their breakfast and they were not excited. Since they were all in due to strokes, they got very bland meals. The reason for all the mumbling. Until, my breakfast came. That was when I realized that the menus you received were tailored to what you are allowed to eat. Since I was trying to gain weight, my breakfast was eggs, biscuits, pancakes and coffee. When they brought in my breakfast, everyone stared at disbelief. I had not felt cold stares like that since my college dating years. I ate as fast as I could and think I popped a wheelie in my wheelchair on the way out.
Finally, it came time for me the leave the rehab center. I was ready. Now, I wish I could say that I met the May 31st goal that I set; because to be honest, it would make a great ending. But I can’t.
Because you see, on May 12th, 4 months earlier than the estimates of the medical experts and 3 weeks before that May 31st deadline that we all thought was impossible, I walked out of that hospital. God ANSWERS prayer. GOD answers prayer.

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