Nearly 19 years ago, my Dad suffered a severe heart attack. The family was summoned to the emergency room. There we met with the surgeons, and were informed his condition was grim and he was not likely to survive the night. They advised if he did recover, he was likely to have suffered brain damage due to lack of oxygen. After the initial shock, for an unexplained reason, I felt at peace. I prayed to get my Dad back and that he had all of his capacities. I had the feeling the doctors were wrong. He was in a medically induced coma for five days. Every day that passed became increasingly hopeful. Finally, on the fifth day he emerged from his coma. And he was 100% himself. So much so, when he came out of the coma he was yelling that
My eyes were closed. I could not move, but I could hear everything. Doctors were yelling and frantically scurrying all around me. I could hear the shouting of medicines and dosages as doctors pushed fluids into my IV. Suddenly, everything went blank, and that 's all I remember from my first hospitalization.
On October 5th, as we went to Tripler Army Medical Center, I was placed in the Imaging ward. I got to see all the different types of imaging machines such as Ct scan, MRI, Ultrasound, and Nuclear Medicine. I observed the nurses doing these with some patients. The first patient had to do a CT scan to see what was wrong with their breathing, they had dyspnea. When the nurses was finished looked over it, they sent the images to the doctors so they could say what was the problem.
For instance, my Uncle Tommy was in a car crash up in Palm Springs. He was speeding and fell asleep at the wheel and if he did not have a seatbelt on he would of died, but luckily he had it on. He was paralyzed on his left side and the doctors said it would be a miracle if he survived for more than a month, he
I started moving too fast, and I tripped, cut open my hand, and started bleeding. I figured I had better leave and visit it again, but the blood from my hands got on the wall. Everything got bright and then suddenly I was floating. I blacked out and woke up to a police officer staring at my and my parents happy I was safe. I had been gone for 12 hours with-out contact.
However, as time passed the complications progressed. He had to have injections twice a day to keep his heart going and he couldn’t walk or do anything that would cause his heart to work harder. There was nothing that could really be done to save him. My family knew that and he knew it as well; he hated us seeing him in such a helpless position. One night, my grandfather had had enough; the pain stinging his heart wouldn’t let him sleep and he knew it would soon give in.
My dad almost died on a few occasions. The things that almost caused his death were the smallest of things. Small blood clots were being sent up to his brain causing
Over the past four years I have seen more doctors than an average person will see in a lifetime. From endocrinologists to neurosurgeons, I have tirelessly sought medical treatment for multiple traumatic brain injuries I incurred at a young age. Through my personal struggle I learned that there is no adequate treatments for concussions and traumatic brain injuries in the State of New Mexico. Although the lack of these services forced me to seek treatment outside my community, it has become my main motivation to return to my community and share the knowledge I have been fortunate to receive through these many experiences. At the age of fourteen, I was the unfortunate recipient of four traumatic brain injuries, within a six-month time frame, that would result in a diagnosis of post-concussive syndrome.
The doctors told my parents that I was in a coma due to a brain aneurysm and two strokes in the right side of my brain. The right side of my brain had expanded and filled with blood. After eating through a pipe that connected to my stomach for almost a year, I finally woke up. The first words that escaped my mouth were “tengo hambre.” Although, this event left me partially paralyzed from the right side I continued to strive.
I knelt before him. Hoping for a miracle. He said yes. It was not a miracle. Bestowed by God.
I remember getting up trying to find my slippers, but then I froze at the sound of the ovens alarm. It was a strange feeling but in that moment the ovens alarm sounded like the noise the heart meter makes once a patient no longer has a heartbeat. This sent shivers down my spine, I was afraid and I had no clue why. Moments later, I was informed that my father had received a message from my grandma stating that my grandpa was not feeling well. My dad then called home once he had arrived to my grandpa’s aid only to say that by then it was too late, he had passed
A friend of mine once told me about her failed suicide attempt during her youth. She was in a deep coma and near death. Nonetheless, in her clinical oblivion, she could feel the excruciating pain ravaging through her body and numerous medical procedures performed on her in a frantic attempt to save her life. She could hear the conversation between medical professionals and her family. Eventually, she woke up from her coma but, to this day, still has lingering health issues because of it.
It was a Tuesday evening, September 13, 2011. There were two minutes left on the clock during just an ordinary soccer game of my sophomore year of high school. A player on the opposing team had a breakaway towards our goal with only myself between him and our goalie. With only stopping the ball in mind, I sprinted across the field and slide tackled the ball from the opponent. This collision caused the other player to flip off his feet and his knee found his way directly into my left temple.
I had to focus on what the world was telling me. Despite understanding the medical team’s assessment, I knew what life was and understood that my mother exhibited characteristics of life. When the machine was shut down and she took only a couple of breaths, I became hysterical. All of my senses were giving me information that I could not
God revealed to me that He was ultimately in control. He calmed my nerves and helped me to stay strong. This event and fasting through it changed my life. Not a day goes by that I do not praise God for His healing power. Having God’s comfort through my fast and my grandpa’s condition made me trust in the Lord on a whole new level.
I was in so much agony that blood curdling screams were coming out of my mouth with no control. My parents had heard them and sprinted over, grabbed, and threw me into the dingy to take us back to the boat, all the while trying to flick off the creatures. On the boat my dad cranked up the engine so it was going as fast as it could to the nearest hospital 2 hours away, with my mom repeating the words “breathe Kitty, breathe” into my ear. The pain had become so intense that my ears started ringing, my vision went going yellow and hazy and I blacked