I confess I've always felt holidays miracles were a Hollywood myth. Especially the cheesy ones on seasonal movies where the worst possible thing happens and somehow by the end of the show they've either fixed or worked through it to the point where life was better than ever. I don't watch sappy movies for that same reason. Real life never works that way. If I want fiction I'll stick with dragons and demons.
This year something happened to make me reconsider everything. On the twenty first of November my Mother had six mini strokes that had affected her brain caused by a deadly infection in her heart called Endocarditis. It was so bad the attending ER Dr. informed me she might not make it to the specialized care givers at St. Vincents. She couldn't see, talk, or control her body at that point. I was terrified and numb from the grief, fear, and, worst of all, the unknown.
She spent two weeks completely incoherent and unable to do anything but thrash around in her bed as a team of ten specialists in their fields worked tirelessly to find the source of the infection and eliminate it. They each advised me to be prepared in the event that she a) didn't make it or b) never was the same again.
This week, however, that 'holiday miracle' decided to make its presence known for me. My mother is still fighting the infection and will for several more weeks up to her surgery to replace the damage done to her heart. However, she is now eating and drinking under her own power with only an iv drip for her antibiotics and blood withdrawals. She can talk clearly and move on her own (she even made her first trip through the halls with her own two feet on the very first try) and but for a little trouble recalling certain things seems to be improving...yes, miraculously.
The doctors have even informed me that at this pace by the end of the week she won't even need to go to a rehab center. She can come home with me and focus on recuperating and regaining her full strength before they do surgery at the start of next year. Can you imagine a more wonderful present than to go from fearing you might never get to tell your Mother 'I love you' again to having her back home in time for Christmas?
So from now on I promise to stop and think back to this moment before I scoff at another 'sappy moment' on the screen. I can't promise it will change my sarcastic ways, but I can tell you this entire experience has taught me to appreciate every second I have with a renewed vigor I never thought possible. To everyone who has stopped to pray or spared a few seconds to consider the plight of my mother and especially to those wonderful, amazing people who have helped me through this, I give you all my most sincere and deepest gratitude. There is nothing I place above family and all who worried for my mother are family in my eyes.
~Samantha Blake, a much more relieved daughter
This year something happened to make me reconsider everything. On the twenty first of November my Mother had six mini strokes that had affected her brain caused by a deadly infection in her heart called Endocarditis. It was so bad the attending ER Dr. informed me she might not make it to the specialized care givers at St. Vincents. She couldn't see, talk, or control her body at that point. I was terrified and numb from the grief, fear, and, worst of all, the unknown.
She spent two weeks completely incoherent and unable to do anything but thrash around in her bed as a team of ten specialists in their fields worked tirelessly to find the source of the infection and eliminate it. They each advised me to be prepared in the event that she a) didn't make it or b) never was the same again.
This week, however, that 'holiday miracle' decided to make its presence known for me. My mother is still fighting the infection and will for several more weeks up to her surgery to replace the damage done to her heart. However, she is now eating and drinking under her own power with only an iv drip for her antibiotics and blood withdrawals. She can talk clearly and move on her own (she even made her first trip through the halls with her own two feet on the very first try) and but for a little trouble recalling certain things seems to be improving...yes, miraculously.
The doctors have even informed me that at this pace by the end of the week she won't even need to go to a rehab center. She can come home with me and focus on recuperating and regaining her full strength before they do surgery at the start of next year. Can you imagine a more wonderful present than to go from fearing you might never get to tell your Mother 'I love you' again to having her back home in time for Christmas?
So from now on I promise to stop and think back to this moment before I scoff at another 'sappy moment' on the screen. I can't promise it will change my sarcastic ways, but I can tell you this entire experience has taught me to appreciate every second I have with a renewed vigor I never thought possible. To everyone who has stopped to pray or spared a few seconds to consider the plight of my mother and especially to those wonderful, amazing people who have helped me through this, I give you all my most sincere and deepest gratitude. There is nothing I place above family and all who worried for my mother are family in my eyes.
~Samantha Blake, a much more relieved daughter