After I was removed from the transplant list, the doctors worked diligently to stabilize me so I could be relisted. I fought along side them by maintaining a positive attitude. At one point a SWAN was inserted into my jugular vein (I began to think my jugular had a "poke me" sign on it or something. lol). The SWAN revealed I had pulmonary hypertension.
A SWAN (pulmonary artery catherization) is inserted into the right side of the heart and arteries going to the lungs. It is used to measure the pressures going into the heart.
One of the specialist told me that he had a gut instinct to order the SWAN and it saved my life. If they had transplanted me with that kind of pulmonary pressure I, undoubtedly, would have died on the operating table.
All my life I had heard Romans 8:28 (For we know that all things work together for good to them that love God...), but in that moment it became real to me. I was awash in gratefulness, regardless of the hard spot I was in. It was a reminder that God was still looking out for me, even though everything was seeming pretty hopeless. I clung to that act of providence, and it fed my faith.
During that time, the lady across the hall must have been dying. By then COVID rules were in full force, so no visitors could come and go except for rare cases when someone was dying - without COVID. But suddenly all of the curtains were drawn and I could see the feet of several people entering her room. Then what I heard was music to my ears, prayer. It was the kind of prayer that rings in the rafters and sends chills down your spine. Someone in that room had a Pentecostal experience and was intent on getting God's attention. I was so surprised! I joined in their prayer... not only for that lady, but for me.
It's easy to get swallowed up by the bigness and the sterile atmosphere of a hospital like Cleveland. It was especially lonely during COVID when it was new to see everyone wearing masks under shields over their face or eyes. I felt I had support, but like everyone was so far away. So it was beautiful to be reminded that in the middle of my darkest nightmare, I was physically not alone. Others of like faith were fighting their own battles right there beside me. I wasn't the only one praying there. It kind of opened me to putting my own needs aside and becoming aware of the suffering and needs of those around me. I began praying for others when I saw their needs. The strangest thing is that I stopped feeling like death was stalking the hall, and started feeling like there were angels there instead.
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