J.M.J.
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Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I love you!
Save souls! |
I began the month of August thinking that I had so much that I wanted to write about: beach days, a friend's daughter's wedding, the Highland Games, and more. I was thinking about ordering curriculum and getting things in order around our house. August 5 changed everything.
Around 6:45 on the morning of August 5, I received a phone call from a doctor at a hospital in the city in which my husband works. The doctor stated his name and told me that he was calling from such-and-such a hospital. I replied, "Who?", thinking for a split second that my husband must have been hit by a car. The doctor repeated himself and went on to say, "I am calling to let you know that your husband has had a heart attack." He went on to ask a few questions, and then told me that they did not know if there was any damage to his heart or brain. The doctor ended the conversation with, "Make necessary phone calls and come."
I called our assistant pastor, our new pastor, and my father-in-law. Catherine facetimed my dad and my brother (Brendan was staying with him and his family in Switzerland/France). After which I asked Bernadette to come with me and kissed all of my other children goodbye. Bernadette and I prayed the Rosary on our way to the hospital.
Upon arriving at the hospital, some of my husband's coworkers saw me and one of them filled me in on some of the details. Our pastor arrived, telling me that our assistant pastor was offering a private Mass for my husband, and then he asked the hospital staff if he could go back to the operating room to administer the Last Rites to my husband. Much to my dismay, the hospital staff would not allow him to do so.
Eventually, I was told that I could see my husband, but our pastor still wasn't allowed to do so. Before going into the operating room, one of the doctors came out to speak with me. He explained that they had called me back because they were still waiting on a bed. He explained that the team of doctors let my husband's left artery go in order to save his main artery. They placed three stents in the main artery, and two days later they placed a fourth stent in a right artery. While the doctor was speaking with me, we heard some noises coming from inside the room, and the doctor and two of the nurses went rushing into the room. I started to pray the Memorare, imploring Our Blessed Mother to not let my husband die without the last rites.
The doctor came out and told me that they had had to shock my husband back. One of the nurses followed and said, "I think that she should see him now." I was so thankful to be able to do so.
I know that Our Lady interceded for my husband and that God was with him the whole time. He couldn't have been in a better place when he had his heart attack, minutes from the medics and from the hospital. Our assistant pastor told me, "That's what comes from praying the family Rosary."
My family and I have been truly humbled by all the Masses, prayers, meals, and donations that we received from family and friends (including priests) near and far. Fr. Saguto, FSSP called the morning after the heart attack and told us that he was at the Carmel in California. He had offered Mass for my husband and had asked all of the nuns to keep my husband in their prayers. He called two or three times after that to see how my husband was doing and to let us know that he was continuing to offer Masses and prayers. Our pastor and assistant pastor brought Communion to my husband, leaving me feeling so thankful for good, holy, caring priests.
I am so thankful to everyone. With time, I will hopefully be able to complete all the thank yous that I need to write. My biggest thank you goes to God, and I am trying my best to thank Him each day.
Continued prayers for my husband are greatly appreciated. May God bless all of you who helped my family in so many ways!
