I believe in miracles. In June of 2004, my dad Tom, became very ill and had to be hospitalized. My dad thought he had just a regular old cold in the beginning. It turned out to be something much more serious than just a cold. This was something very serious and terrifying for the entire family. On June 9, 2006, I received the worst call of my life. My brother-in-law, Scott, was calling to tell me that my father was in very critical condition and the doctors didn’t think he would make it through the night. He only had a few hours left to live. I immediately dropped the phone, fell to the floor, curled up in a ball, and started crying. I was absolutely terrified. My mom picked up the phone off the floor, and began talking to my brother-in-law. She told my brother-in-law that we would get some clothes together, and head to Wichita. I was so upset. The drive to Wichita seemed to take forever. The whole way there I kept worrying and saying, “What if he doesn’t make it. What if he dies before I get there?” My mom told me in a sincere voice, “Janna, he will hang on till you get there. Don’t worry, we will make it.” That was the longest drive of my life. My mom and I talked about old times the whole way, trying to pass time. I was trying to prepare myself for the worse. We finally made it to the hospital in Wichita. My brother and sister, and the rest of the family were all there waiting for us. I immediately hugged my brother,and then preceded through the ICU doors to see my dying father. As I entered his room the tears began falling. I had never seen anything like it before. There were tubes running in and out of his body,and there were all kinds of machines hooked up to him. They had placed him in a medication induced coma. Although he was asleep I just knew he could hear me. In a very shaky, upset voice I told him, “Dad. It’s me, Janna. I love you.” Every time we would talk to him, we would notice on the machines that his heart rate would go up. We had hung up pictures of all the grandkids all around his room. We never left his side. The next morning,the doctors told us that he had septicemia. They had only given my dad a one percent chance of living. I had kind of prepared myself,as best I could for his death. My brother and sister were not coping well at all. The doctors said that they could try giving him an injection of a medication called “Xigris”. It was a very expensive drug and they were not sure how he would respond. For 1 cc of “Xigris” it cost $12,000.00. My father had no insurance, but that didn’t matter. We wanted them to try everything they could. We just wanted our dad to get better. We told the doctor to go ahead an give him the shot of “Xigris”. In the end, he had been given a total of three of the “Xigris” shots. Still, he showed no sign of improvement. Our family began making decisions about what we should do next. Then, a couple of days later, as if a miracle happened, my father woke up. He miraculously started to do so much better. The doctor told us that he had never seen a case like this before my fathers. In my eyes, that was truly a miracle. From that day forward, I began believing that miracles do and can happen.
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