Three days after the removal of my right kidney my fever elevated to an extremely dangerous level around 2:30 a.m., causing the nurses at Barnes-Jewish hospital to call an on duty trauma surgeon.
After a period of examination and consultation, the surgeon advised they head for the operating room for it appeared something had gone awry during the operation.
Having slipped into a coma an unusual thing happened to me. For a brief moment I was fully aware of being transported on a gurney. I knew there were three men in white hospital attire in the front with two nurses pulling and two more nurses on each side in the back.
I could feel the fast pace of the gurney and hear the chatter of the attendants. It was also during this brief period of consciousness that I looked up at this extremely attractive dark lady whose nurse’s shirt and cap were blue with floral items, and she had a facial mask around her neck. Her eyes and face showed a compassion accented by the warmth of her smile.
As we sped down the long corridor, I reached over to her and said, “Do you pray for people headed for surgery?” With her hand holding mine, she began to pray a powerful prayer until I fell back into an unconscious state.
Months later I asked the surgeon if he had a dark nurse on his surgical team. His reply was a surprising, “No.”
I do not know if possibly that nurse and her powerful prayer was a fixation of my mind or the fever causing a hallucination. I am more inclined to believe that she was an angel from God to comfort me in this test on my life.
During my emergency operation it was discovered that my duodenum had been punctured causing a fast spreading infection that filled my entire stomach area. This required my stomach to be left open so it could heal from the inside out. Many did not believe I would live as for weeks I knew little and was dependent on support systems. Seventeen months after that operation my stomach was closed by the same surgeon and all the large scar tissue was removed.
Five days after my return home another infection occurred, and I had to be opened again. Now 14 months later the wound is still closing, but God has restored my body and mind and I am rejoicing today for His mercy.
In a recent trip to my rehab hospital, where I previously stayed 58 days, I went to the familiar third floor and immediately found myself surrounded by three nurses who had cared for me when I could not walk and when my first wound was still extremely large and open. One said, “I never thought I would ever see you again alive.”
After 145 days of healing in two St. Louis hospitals and one in my hometown, I am grateful that many angels from the medical profession have ministered to me during this long period of time.
So was the dark lady an angel from God? You will have a hard time disproving it to me today.
“The angel of the Lord encamps round about them that fear him, and delivers them.”-- Psalm 34:7.