One More Heartbeat

Chris arrived at the ER and I told him what I knew. His presence was a tremendous comfort since he was certified as an EMT and had worked as one even though he was no longer employed in the field. I knew I would be able to rely on his knowledge and experience. Having both of my sons with me was so important to me.
I have no idea how much time--30 minutes to an hour maybe -- elapsed before a doctor asked us to meet with him in a conference room. Dr. Jeff Evans, the pulmonologist on call that night, was a personal friend with whom I had attended Promise Keepers conferences. My visual memories of the events, by this time, were images viewed through a haze as fuzzy outlines. Jeff’s face was not visible to me either because my focus was not on him or because of the haze, but I heard him begin, “Gary, we think Carolyn has had a massive pulmonary embolism.” In shock, I didn’t know how to respond or what to ask. Chris, who was seated on my right, asked, “What is the prognosis?”
Jeff replied, “It’s too early to say for sure. She may not make it through the night...”
I was paralyzed. 
“She was without oxygen for so long that if she does make it,” he continued, “we don’t know what level of brain function to expect. But it is also possible she could just walk out of here.”
My mind was numb. What if Carolyn pulled through the initial crisis only to be in a persistent vegetative state! How would I ever be able to care for her? It was close to being more than I could bear. I was certain that none of the answers to these questions would be affordable, either financially or emotionally. What will I do?
In a moment hardly described as one of clarity I realized consciously that she was still my wife and that for what it was worth I would do whatever I had to do to care for her. That had been my promise to her and if God would give me the strength I would honor that promise.
The rest of the meeting with Jeff Evans was beyond what I could absorb and I have no recollection of it. At some point Jeff asked me if I would like to see Carolyn, and that ended the conference. Someone escorted me to a room where they had stabilized Carolyn and were assisting her respiration since she was unable to breathe on her own. She had the look of death. Her eyes were closed and she was motionless. Her skin was unlike anything I had ever seen on a living person--darker than usual with a purplish marbling--but she was alive and I was thankful for that.
I am certain that if Jeff had not been called in Carolyn would not have lived through her time in the trauma room, but not because she did not receive appropriate care because she certainly did.
When Jeff arrived, after being called in, he immediately recognized Carolyn and already knew what her recent medical history had been, so he knew what the root of her problem was and how to lead the medical team. Along with that, Jeff and I had met together with two others over several months for coffee and prayer and had developed a special kind of friendship. It was that relationship that pushed him to continue efforts to resuscitate Carolyn much longer than likely would have been the case. In fact, weeks later I remembered what Jeff had said in one of our prayer times much earlier, “Since moving to Oxford I haven’t had to treat anyone I know as an emergency patient, but I know one day I will.”
Weeks later we were talking and Jeff told me, “I didn’t know who it was when I got the call, but when I came in the door and saw her feet I froze, because I knew exactly who it was. Then my training just kicked in and we did what we had to do.” I have thanked God many times for Jeff, his training, and those who assisted him.
Carolyn was taken to the ICU on the third floor around midnight. I waited in the hallway outside while they transferred her to a bed and made the necessary connections to the respirator and monitors. Things were still a blur and my mind was racing. Although I can’t recall who appeared first, people started popping up.
To my left from inside the ICU waiting room Jeff’s wife, Laura, emerged. Beth and Rosemary had come earlier, and the three of them were praying for Carolyn.  Robert Allen, one of the ministers at our church, had come when someone notified him and other ministerial staff. It was late but they were all on hand. Chris had contacted my close friend and prayer buddy, James, but he had not found us in the ICU and returned home and began praying for us there. I had released Carolyn into God’s merciful hands but continued to pray that He would heal her and restore her perfectly.
When the respirator and monitoring equipment were in place, Jeff let me into the ICU to be with Carolyn. She was asleep, as she would be for several days.  Jeff told me that she was stable, but his experience was that it would likely be 72 hours before we would really know which way things were headed. Things were settling down now as the first hurdle, stabilization, had been cleared. Now we would wait.
I waited in the ICU at Carolyn’s bedside. Her nurse, Debbie, quietly and efficiently, came and went. I was impressed and comforted by her kindness to both Carolyn and myself. I was allowed to stay beside Carolyn, holding her hand and alternately praying for and speaking to her from my chair.  Occasionally I laid my head on the bed and catnapped. I was exhausted.
The next morning, June 7, I came home to clean up, get a bite to eat, and see my mother-and-father-in-law before returning to the hospital. While there I sent the e-mail message at the beginning of this chapter to every person in both our address books without regard to their faith. The only avenue available to us was prayer and we appreciated every prayer that would be offered. Over the days and weeks to come we heard from old friends and total strangers alike as they expressed their support for us. It was overwhelming that so many would stop what they were doing and pray, and even return a message of encouragement. Since then whenever I receive a prayer request by e-mail my personal response has been to stop whatever I am doing and pray right then. The next message I sent follows:
Subject: God Has Heard
Date: Tue, 08 Jun 1999 23:27 (11:27 p.m.)
From: Gary and Carolyn Carter
To: (recipients)
Dear Friends,
You have all been so kind to lift Carolyn in prayer. These last two days have been without comparison.
Without you having to read the following in suspense, let me say now that Carolyn has been the recipient of the grace of God in such a way as I cannot adequately describe. Simply put, she has experienced miraculous recovery that has gripped all who have heard of her condition.
The message I sent you earlier was posted about 10 a.m. Monday. I have learned so much about pulmonary embolism since then. Most people do not recover from an episode such as Carolyn experienced. Those who do never experience such dramatic improvement at the startling rate she has seen. On Monday at 6 a.m. she was aware but not alert. Nominally responsive. By noon she was active, recognizing all of us and responding to questions by hand-squeeze (she was on a respirator). Her condition improved noticeably at every visit to ICU (2-hour intervals).
On Tuesday by 8 a.m. they removed her respirator and tube, removed her feeding tube and we have been able to continue to observe an astounding rate of recovery every visit. Tonight at 8 p.m. she has been asking when we thought we might be able to go home!
My medical friends have told us that there is no description outside of miraculous.