Only Because of Him

ambulance by njaj.jpg

I will give thanks to the Lord with all my heart; I will tell of all Your wonders. Psalm 9:1 

I am praying I can write this post, as I’m pretty emotional right now.

My daughter was helping me clean up (pretty much me telling her what to do …), when I saw an envelope that I didn’t recognize and asked her to hand it to me.

I opened it, and was fairly surprised to find it was the record of my hospital adventure in March.

To be honest, I’ve not wanted to know many of the details.  It has been pretty anxiety provoking for me - and it’s something I just try not to think about.

Yet, once I started reading, I kept on.

Emergency room reports.

Reports from my admittance.

Reports on tests that were done that I was unaware I had even had.

Results I didn’t understand.

But three words jumped out at me.

Sudden cardiac death.

There - in black and white - I really had died clinically.

I read of the attempts to revive me.

How six electroshock attempts didn’t work.

Yet, CPR did.

I’ve kind of wondered who performed the CPR that saved me.

Now, I know.  

The EMT’s that worked on me in my house stayed with me the entire time until I was revived. I owe them my life.

And, I also know who to thank for their perseverance.

I read of the decisions my family had to make.  Should I be intubated? Would they ok a potentially risky angiogram procedure?

I can only begin to imagine what my family went through during those days. I’m grateful they trusted God to keep me safe, if it was His will.

I spent 4 days in ICU.  I wasn’t sure how long I was there.  Almost two more weeks in a step down unit.

There were notes that I was trying to communicate with my family and staff with sign language.

The hospital looked for someone who understood sign language to interpret.

Strange thing?

I don’t know sign language.

Eventually, they gave me pen and paper to write on.  And I guess I wrote that I couldn’t breathe. I was reassured that the ventilator was breathing for me.  I have little or no memory.  Only snippets.

I read that I fought the ventilator as I tried to breathe on my own - and needed more sedation.

I read test results that still have me wondering exactly what it all means.  And, I’m grateful I have a doctor’s appointment in a few weeks so I can ask the meaning of it all.

Yet, the upshot?

I’m alive.

I am feeling so humbled and teary today.  I was shaking as I read report after report.  I didn’t want to know - but I did at the same time.

I asked a dear friend who lives far away, but kept in touch with my son via messenger, details that I needed to know.

It felt like I was reading and learning about someone else, but I wasn’t.  It was me.

I need to write a thank you to the EMT’s who saved my life.

I need to express my thanks to each and every family member who stayed with me during the days when recovery was uncertain - when I remained in critical condition.

I need to, (and am) thanking each person who prayed me through that crisis.

I also need to express my oh-so-humble thanks to my God.  He provided for me when it was not even possible for me to pray.  I know there were prayers heading toward Him, yet, the result could have been different.

He provided for me when I was unable to do a single thing for myself.

I was completely dependent on Him.

It seems strange that this is hitting home so strongly three and a half months after the fact.

Yet, this evening, I looked out as the sun was setting and thanked God over and over.

I’m alive.

And only because of Him.

 © deni weber 2010-2015