A recently turned 50 year old Mom walked herself to the emergency room around 9:15 on the morning of Tuesday, May 24th. Something just wasn’t right. She had made it to work, barely, which was located immediately across the street from the Hospital, but the morning had been a tough one. She sat on a hospital bed in the hallway of an emergency room, alone, for over 3 hours.
Her daughter arrived by her side around 12:30. Her Mom had not yet been seen by an ER Doctor. She described to her daughter the odd morning she experienced and the terrible headache she was still suffering from, at the back of her head at the base of her neck. Told her she even went into the bathroom and stared into the shower at those “things” and couldn’t figure out what to do with them. She made a motion with her hands to show her daughter. She was describing the faucet and knobs.
Her daughter tried, unsuccessfully, to get her Mom some help. They were told they would be seen soon. Her Mom was given some crackers and asked to be patient.
At approximately 3pm her Mom’s mouth began to droop and the cracker she was eating came falling out of her mouth. She was suffering a major stroke.
Later that evening, surrounded by Family, a Helicopter from the University of Pennsylvania Hospital arrived to transport her Mom there. Her daughter, reluctantly kissed her goodbye. That was one of only two times the past two weeks those two have been separated.
Her daughter raced to UPenn and sat by her side as she was adjusted and set up in the ICU there. The next day, her Mom’s CAT Scan revealed terrible statistics. Her daughter didn’t listen. She cried, but she didn’t waiver. She held Hope; She held Faith; She held Love; that her Mom would be a different kind of statistic. The kind of statistic that Doctors can’t measure; the kind that Doctors can’t explain and won’t.
In the following days, her Daughter held her Mom’s hand, stroked her skin, tickled her toes, talked to her. Her Daughter read to her Mom from her Bible. Over and over again. Her Daughter told her who was visiting, who was calling, who was sending their love. And then she would read the Bible again.
Soon, her Daughter saw signs; signs of life, love, and laughter from Her Mom. Each day, each moment was something new from her Mom. One moment a moving pinky finger, another moment a twinge of her smile. Each sign more significant and meaningful than the next.
At the one week mark her Mom was Signing using the letters of the alphabet with her right hand. Slowly but surely, one letter at a time, she was communicating. How blessed her Daughter must have felt. How honored to have witnessed a Miracle. Her Mom Signed “I Love You.”
Throughout the next week more visitors dropped by, more Prayers were continued, more laughter instead of sorrow. Day by day, step by step there is improvement and there is more hope.
At the two week mark her Mom was released from ICU and moved rooms, her Daughter by her side. Her Mom is now whispering, blinking, moving her left leg, breathing through a trach, and beginning her long recovery journey. This is no more a story of a major stroke but that of a Daughter’s Love and Faith.
And so, her Daughter continues: brushing her hair, holding her hand, reading her passages, laughing with her, crying with her. All the while, knowing in her heart her Mom is not yet finished in her Miracle.
The best is yet to come.