Miracles
Jesus Came to Me
I Was Alone and Sick, Laying in Bed.
After an 18 hour drive I arrived home ready to hit the sack.
I brought up the suitcase, duffel bag and the cat litter box and then the bag of all the cat goodies. I got him fresh water and put out his food.
It was almost 2 AM and after brushing my teeth and getting on my jammies, I hopped into bed intending to sleep late.
When I woke up, the world was spinning. I felt like I was in the teacup ride at the fairgrounds, being thrown from one side to another around and around.
Vertigo. VERTIGO.
Over the years, I’d had small bouts of it mostly due to curvy road driving in the backseat or being on the high seas. One time I had a week’s worth of it, but each experience was cured by rest, Dramamine or more recently, a chiropractor.
This time there was nothing the chiropractor or OTC medicine could do to make it go away.
It got so bad and I was so incapacitated the EMTs had to break down my door to transport me to the hospital.
They took an MRI. They filled me with anti-nausea medicine and sent me home in a taxi.
I puked before getting in the taxi and I basically had to hold the walls as I walked through the apartment building to get back into my unlocked busted-in-door apartment.
One child hopped a plane and came down to be with me. He took care of the cat, he took care of me and he drove me to appointments.
One of them was with an ENT and the other with a specialist chiropractor.
I became more stable with rest — at least enough to get him to the airport at the end of the week.
I took it easy, avoided triggers like bending over and had my groceries delivered. I continued with the chiropractor, and still the vertigo came back again.
Desperation brought me to the urgent care center. We discussed the history of what led me up to this point and I remembered a head cold I had worked through prior to driving south. He put me on antibiotics.
I continued to take it easy, alternating between my bed, and the couch.
The weekend passed, and Monday came. I rose to a very potent vertigo and again I desperately managed to drive myself to see the specialist chiropractor. He did the adjustments and nothing changed.
After not moving for 10 minutes in the exam room, he escorted me to his waiting room so that he could continue seeing patients. I tried to settle enough so that I could stand and walk.
It was probably an hour and a half before I got to the point where I could do so. I knew I couldn’t stay there.
He walked me out to my car. Then I sat for another 45 minutes trying to settle again.
I kept asking myself are you safe enough to drive? Are you sure you won’t hurt anyone else?
I meditated, I tried to regulate my breathing, I prayed, I visualized Blue and Green healing energy coming through all my chakra points, and eventually, I got myself to the point where the spinning stopped, and I was left with a light haze. I kept thinking of the Bible, and Jesus saying “thy faith has made thee whole.”
I had faith it could happen.
I decided to get myself going while I could. I was very careful. I was very methodical. I stuck to the speed limit. I left lots of distance, I got into one lane and stayed there but still, it was a dumb.
But that’s what you do when you’re a widow. That’s what you do when you’ve moved thousands of miles away from where you once lived with your husband.
Had my husband still been alive I would have had somebody to drive me. To watch over me, to handle everything.
Now the kids have to worry since I’m so far away about who’s going to take care of me. They never had to because dad always took care of me if something happened. So it’s a new role for them and their partners.
On the drive, I played a conversation in my head. How is your health going to improve if you go home? You still have no one to watch over you there. The chiropractor can’t help you. The urgent care did what they could. The person at the ENT office was playing a game of darts with what it could be. It’s not getting any better and it’s actually getting worse. You should drive yourself to the ER. They will have to figure out something this time.
I listed all the pros and cons, the positives and the negatives.
The chiropractor says the primary won’t know what to do with you but all he can tell me is eventually after working on the C1 it will get the rest of my spine into alignment and then I’ll be fine.
I’m not worried about my spine at the moment. I am worried about my sense of balance and being sick to my stomach and being able to sit still and not have the room spin.
In my head, I kept hearing the urgent care doctor say “you’ve either got a sinus or an ear infection or both.” That made sense to me. It was only thing that made sense to me.
I called my friend who moved to Florida not even two weeks before. She had cat-sit for me when I was on a trip to Alaska last summer. We were in the same online writing group through Covid. I had stopped to see her once when I was passing through Kansas. We didn’t really know each other well but we hit it off immediately.
Chipper as always, she answered, “Hey how are you doing?”
I said “terrible.” I explained what was happening and asked her if she could come take care of the cat. I knew at that moment going home would serve no positive outcome. I explained she was welcome to stay at my apartment or take him back to hers.
She didn’t get into any of the details and said instead, “I’m on my way.” The relief I felt was palpable.
Her son drove them nearly 2 hours to the hospital to pick up my keys, and car and she stayed with me until I was admitted to a room, peppered the medical professionals to ensure they were taking me seriously and only then, went back to my apartment and her son went back to their home.
Now that’s good people. Those are the action takers.
I think I cried when I heard her voice after I came back from my MRI. I was strung tighter than a guitar string and in that moment I knew I could let go — that somebody was actually watching out for me.
Alone. Distraught. At the end of your rope. Hanging on an edge. Deciding whether to stay or go. I’ve never been that close and I never want to be that close again.
But you want to know about Jesus.
While I was laying in bed and the world was spinning, and there was no way to stop it — I was praying.
I was pleading to my husband in the spirit world for help. I was asking my parents and all my friends and family in the spirit world for help. I was asking my guardian angel and anyone else who wanted to provide aid to come and give me healing.
The next thing I knew, I saw a misty background with Jesus standing in front of me and then I saw a silhouette of a bunch of people standing around me with their hands held out.
Then I saw the face of a male lion followed quickly by the silhouette of a Black Panther.
These two have been with me since I first learned how to journey using drums. They seem to be guides to me.
It was then my body felt electrified, almost like goosebumps rising up but then being pulled even further up by an invisible line and then let go. It was like riding a wave.
My skin went prickly, and the electrical sensations continued for sometime.
I knew I was being helped from beyond. I know they were doing what they could do. I didn’t feel alone anymore. I knew somehow someway I was going to get through this.
Life is like that. As a widow we believe we go through the hardship alone — but we don’t — not really.
There can be people around us if we ditch the pride and become vulnerable and they will send prayers and well wishes. Some who are able, physically support us, hoping for a good outcome by taking actions rather than standing at the sidelines.
It’s important to have both types of people.
Each are just as important as the actual physician or nurse or nurse assistant. They offer hope when you feel none.
At the hospital, my eyes were closed because any movement or any light made my symptoms worse. The self admitted Korean woman who did my admissions intake stroked her hand across my knee and then my arm, trying to do what she could do to calm me and make me feel better.
That was immensely soothing and healing. It was as if your favorite grandma said “there, there you’re going to be all right.”
The young man who took me down to the MRI gave his own form of healing — humor, as we were joking about how names are spelled.
Even when I was feeling the lowest of my low, I was quite cognizant that these people were doing a job every single day that helped humanity and I wanted to give back in whatever small way I could to show my appreciation.
The tech who had to give me another IV port because the one in my right arm blew out, did it quickly and efficiently and relatively painlessly. That gave me confidence that I wouldn’t have to endure that again.
The tech and the nurse chatted with each other on the way back to my room, but also included me in the conversation if I wanted to be. They didn’t talk over me or around me, but their camaraderie lent to my vision of being well once I got out of the hospital knowing that there is some thing to look forward to.
The man and the woman who brought me my meals genuinely cared about the placement and setting up the table correctly and helping me take off food covers, and I felt well cared for. They looked me in the eye and waited for my acknowledgment that all was okay before they left.
After I saw Jesus for real, I felt him in everyone I met. I saw their goodness. It might’ve been just another day or just another patient but I seemed to see beyond that.
Jesus came to me in my Darkest Hour and then he stayed with me.
It didn’t mean I suddenly got well because I didn’t, but I didn’t get worse. Hope helps you walk miles! And he sent me someone who was a brand new friend to come and stay and take care of me. And I felt whole rather than half a couple for the first time in ages.
I don’t know what else to say other than if you’re down and out — pray. Someone will answer.
I would sure love it if you like my stories that you would take a look at my book: https://store.bookbaby.com/book/a-new-baby-at-happy-gates-ranch
