I believe miracles do happen.
It was the summer of 2007. My family was taking a vacation to Minnesota to visit some old neighbors at their cabin. One morning my dad woke up and had a headache and a funny feeling in all over his body. He started feeling worse, so after a rush to urgent care, my mom took him to the hospital. They admitted him to the intensive care unit imidatly. They had no clue what was going on. Day by day, my dad worsened. My brother and I had to sit there not knowing what tomorrow was going to bring. After time, my mom had him sent to one of the best hospitals in the Midwest, St. Mary’s Hospital in Rochester, Minnesota. By this time my dad was paralyzed from the waste down and his condition was critical.
Our world was chaotic. Mom lived in Rochester sleeping by my dad every night; my brother and I stayed home by ourselves, praying every night that he would get better. I remember thinking nothing would ever help my dad get better. I would cry every night just thinking what it would be like to live without a dad. Eventually St. Mary’s. Diagnosised my dad with Giambare Syndrome. My mom called my brother and I in tears to tell us the news. The doctors told us that this was curable but it would be a long process.
My dad went through all the treatment that he needed to do. My brother and I went on with our lives knowing that a miracle could happen out of this.
We lived day by day depending on family and friends to help us. My dad’s health increased every day by going to rehabilitation, and most, of all having my mom by his side. We would visit him, but seeing him in a wheelchair just crushed my heart.
I knew he was strong and could get trough this. I went home thinking my dad was never going to be the same dad that I used to have and wondering what the final outcome was going to be. A week went by, a month went by and finally two months. I hated going to the hospital to see my dad in this condition. I went to one of his last rehab meetings with a positive attitude and knew something good was going to happen. I looked at my dad and told him you are going to walk again. I cheered him on as he lifted himself out of his wheelchair. I said, “I do believe that miracles can happen.” Right after I said that he took his first steps in two and a half months. I could instantly see relief in his eyes.
He kept on getting better while my brother and I prepared for school back home.
Family and friends gathered outside to see my dad come home. It was the best day in a long time! He still couldn’t walk perfectly but he was determined and walked up the stairs into the house for the first time. When he sat down on the couch I said, “Dad I do believe miracles do happen.”
My dad’s experience during this time really changed my mind on miracles. In the beginning I didn’t think anything good was going to come out of his medical crisis, but a miracle happened and today he walks.
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