Tuesday, November 5, 2013

One year ago today...

"'Midst a cynical world, I dare compose... of Love: a beauty that lasts forever.  And from its face shan't my gaze cease, never."


        The day I almost died. One year ago today, November 5th, I almost slipped away.  I barely recall waking up that morning.  Much of this account is from what I was told had happened. 
That morning is very hazy in my mind. 
        My husband Joe rustled me awake to tell me he was going to run errands.  He said I was incoherent, mumbling, and making no sense.  He woke my mom up... she had spent the night with us since I had been so sick.  I guess they asked me how I felt, because I barely remember saying I was in no pain.  Then I must have blacked out, because I don't recall the rest.  
        They checked my O2 levels and I guess they were critically low.  They called an ambulance apparently and rushed me to the hospital.  I don't remember them showing up, I don't remember the ride there, I don't remember arriving at the hospital.  My brain was so oxygen deprived all I recall from that moment on is flashes of images. 
        I remember lying in the ER and asking, "Am I going to die?"  I must have been terrified.  Then I blacked out again. 
I was told later that almost our entire family had shown up at the ER that night and that I was given last rights.  It was that bad... they honestly thought I might die then and there.
        The doctors decided to intubate me... my husband was told to leave the room.  He told me later that he had told me he had to leave and had said, "I love you," before he left... but that I was so out of it and so incoherent I didn't respond, and I ALWAYS respond to that. If you know me you know how I am with I love you's.  The thought rushed through his mind that this might be the last time he saw me alive and I couldn't even tell him how much I loved him.  I guess then my dear husband fell into his mom's arms saying he just couldn't lose me.
        I'm guessing it was days later that I remember seeing images again.  I remember being in a hospital room.  I guess it was still in Wichita.  I remember faces hovering above my bed... my sisters Maria and Monica, my mom, my husband, two of my sister-in-laws... one of which I could tell was crying so I lipped to her, "Don't cry. I'm going to be ok."  Which probably made her cry even more thinking about it. ;)  I remember a friend of mine, Francis, smiling beside me.  A friend of mine, Larissa, was a nurse in that hospital... and I remember her standing in the doorway to my room at one point.  Other than that, not really anything other than vague images.
        At some point I was airlifted to Kansas City... I guess I was intubated for 11 straight days. It was in KC where I would eventually wake up.  But that begins another story to be told another day.
        Ironically the day before this incident occurred my brother Rafe and I had been talking.  I guess the readings at mass had talked about having the bravery to ask God for things we needed. So we were encouraging each other to ask God for healing. "Ask and it shall be given to you..."
        Rafe had just gotten back from a spiritual retreat, so he had been telling me about it.  He was on what we joked was a "spiritual high" and was so happy and filled with the Holy Spirit.  He told me in that conversation that at the retreat, "I touched the mantle of the cloth as the priest processed by with his monstrance and prayed for you."  Then he added, "I think you're going to get bad before you get better though..."  
        I thanked him... I was, and still am, deeply touched by that.  And that conversation was the day before everything started...the day before the heartache began. Looking back now, I wonder, how did he know?  It surely did get a lot worse, before it got better.  He even joked in the conversation that night saying "I'm not a prophet."  However, he is a saint in my eyes.
        On a side note, a few days prior to this conversation Rafe had told me not to put off going to adoration for petty reasons... and so I went.  He had told me to touch the monstrance and pray for healing... and so I did.  I'm glad I did.  He also told me, "I believe God can cure me if it is His will.  I just don't think He wills it.  You, on the other hand... who knows?"  Oh, how I miss you, Rafe. <3
        This was so hard to write, but I felt it needed to be said.  I am forever grateful for all those who showed up at the ER that night, to give love and support to my family... and for all the powerful prayers that were said.  I'm grateful for all the doctors and nurses who kept me alive; for this last year and my health being 100% different than it was then; to be able to simply breathe; and for this chance at life.  Thank You, Lord.  I'm grateful for my mom, dad, siblings, and my entire family... and especially for my dear husband.  I love you, Joe.  Thank you for not letting me go. <3


My love. 
~Julie Jean

Friday, November 1, 2013

My October :)

"My favorite color is October." :)


        The month of October has been a beautiful one!  Instead of explaining it, let me show it to you.  Here is my last month in pictures.  Enjoy!

I hit 200 days post transplant!

Got my hair cut again :)

Went to the Corn Maze for the first time with friends!

Helped film!

Had our first snowfall of the season!

Had an amazing party thrown for my husband and I!  Celebrating life!
... and we danced the night away. And I didn't even get short of breath!!! :)

Celebrated my mother-in-laws birthday! These were the pillows I made her. Love them!

Celebrated my father-in-laws birthday! This was the pillow I made him! ;)

Went to a Chiefs game! 8-0, baby!!! :)

Helped with a Haunted house! :)

Did more crocheting! Love making pillows!

Visited these two amazing people! So blessed to have them in my life!! <3


Went as Willie and Si Robertson for Halloween!!!! :)

        There you have it!!  I hope your month of October was as amazing as mine!  Much love to you! <3
~Julie Jean