What's Your "Miracle" Story?

Stitchie · Jun 25, 2005

That is a wonderful story, and how uplifiting.

Medical doctors can't explain everything. Those who say "I just don't know" are the ones I trust the most, as they acknowledge their humanity and faith in miraculous outcomes.

How nice to hear that you were able to meet her again, and share some special memories. Do you still keep in touch?

Antikigirl, ASN, RN · Jun 25, 2005

My heart is so filled with joy at this story! What a wonderful beautiful and joyous thing to be reunited and hear that he was okay! I haven't had that yet, most I met while in nursing school or in the hospital after I never heard from again...so I will never know.

The only story like this that I have...I better shorten it..LOL. I was a candy striper at a hospital at 14 and met a lady whom I loved and cared for day after day. She and I were at the hip, and she was recovering after a bout of throat cancer. One day I walked in to her room only to be stopped by two nuns, they begged me not to go in...inside I saw them doing a code....I was furious.."let me in!!!!" I screamed..she is my friend! The nuns grabbed my arms and I hit one of them and ran off in histerics!

I had never forgotten that time, the patient passed...and I really regretted hitting that nun! But I was young and in shock...but I have always had a pit in my stomach over it...I just am not a hitting kind of person...never had been..then I do it and A NUN? Ummmmmm not good!

Earier this year I had a call into a room of a lady having severe chest pain radiating to her chin and arm not relieved by three nitros. I went into the room after calling 9-11 because my instincts told me too basically, this woman is never ill..never calls for help...etc. When I met her I didn't recognize her at all...but apparently she recognized me...some 25 years later!!!!!!

When they were taking her to the hospital she had them stop and held my hand...I was shocked. Then she said "all was forgiven long ago my dear...but now, this should help you loose that guilt and go on!"...then it hit me big time and I sobbed and thanked her! It was her..the Nun I hit! She rememebered me! Then with a smile she said "I trust you with my life, and did from that moment you stood up for that woman, I always will...and I thank GOD for you daily since you have been here...I just never had the guts to tell you before...I love you!".

She was just fine (did suffer an MI, but did great!) and one of my best patients! So great and helpful and gives me a thank you and God bless every day!

It was nice to let go of those feeling I had of guilt and find that even though those actions of youth hurt me, they laid a path for me somehow to a point where I would help her out later in life! Not to redeem myself, but to find that I was very valued..even the woman who I hurt so long ago!!!!

I am still on cloud nine about it!

WriteStuff · Jun 25, 2005

That is a wonderful story, and how uplifiting.
Medical doctors can't explain everything. Those who say "I just don't know" are the ones I trust the most, as they acknowledge their humanity and faith in miraculous outcomes.
How nice to hear that you were able to meet her again, and share some special memories. Do you still keep in touch?

Hi Stitchie,

Unfortunately we did not stay in touch, but I got to meet "Elijah" one time, and it was another "basket-case" moment for me, LOL. I moved from Phoenix not long after that.

WriteStuff · Jun 25, 2005

My heart is so filled with joy at this story! What a wonderful beautiful and joyous thing to be reunited and hear that he was okay! I haven't had that yet, most I met while in nursing school or in the hospital after I never heard from again...so I will never know.
The only story like this that I have...I better shorten it..LOL. I was a candy striper at a hospital at 14 and met a lady whom I loved and cared for day after day. She and I were at the hip, and she was recovering after a bout of throat cancer. One day I walked in to her room only to be stopped by two nuns, they begged me not to go in...inside I saw them doing a code....I was furious.."let me in!!!!" I screamed..she is my friend! The nuns grabbed my arms and I hit one of them and ran off in histerics!
I had never forgotten that time, the patient passed...and I really regretted hitting that nun! But I was young and in shock...but I have always had a pit in my stomach over it...I just am not a hitting kind of person...never had been..then I do it and A NUN? Ummmmmm not good!
Earier this year I had a call into a room of a lady having severe chest pain radiating to her chin and arm not relieved by three nitros. I went into the room after calling 9-11 because my instincts told me too basically, this woman is never ill..never calls for help...etc. When I met her I didn't recognize her at all...but apparently she recognized me...some 25 years later!!!!!!
When they were taking her to the hospital she had them stop and held my hand...I was shocked. Then she said "all was forgiven long ago my dear...but now, this should help you loose that guilt and go on!"...then it hit me big time and I sobbed and thanked her! It was her..the Nun I hit! She rememebered me! Then with a smile she said "I trust you with my life, and did from that moment you stood up for that woman, I always will...and I thank GOD for you daily since you have been here...I just never had the guts to tell you before...I love you!".
She was just fine (did suffer an MI, but did great!) and one of my best patients! So great and helpful and gives me a thank you and God bless every day!
It was nice to let go of those feeling I had of guilt and find that even though those actions of youth hurt me, they laid a path for me somehow to a point where I would help her out later in life! Not to redeem myself, but to find that I was very valued..even the woman who I hurt so long ago!!!!
I am still on cloud nine about it!

Yes, TriageRn 34, I can totally relate. I am also convinced that the way in which our lives unfold has everything to do with "design" and "forethought" by a Higher Power - rather than chaotic randomization, which would be meaningless. Thanks for sharing your story, I loved it too. It is very inspiring to share such stories!

johnjrb · Jun 27, 2005

Thought both of these stories were great. I wished that I had one to add but I have only been a nursing student for a year.

WriteStuff · Jun 27, 2005

Thought both of these stories were great. I wished that I had one to add but I have only been a nursing student for a year.

Well John - take my advice - start keeping a journal NOW. I look back and wish I had done that for my entire career because the most rewarding moments come by "surprise" and SHOULD be memorialized in writing - and it makes all the tears you will shed, the hair you will pull out, and the angst you feel, ...worth it. And...you WILL have, not one, but many stories like ours to share as the years fly by! Have a great day.

Bonnie in Minnesota

DG5 · Jun 29, 2005

I have a miracle story to tell. It happened about two years ago in the same LTC facility where I work. We had a 92 year old lady admitted with OA, CHF, she was also blind in one eye and had very poor vision in the other. On admission, she was very quiet, kept to herself, did not socialise easily, did not want to join in much of the activities. The chaplain visited her and he noted that she had unresolved end of life issues. One day, another resident died and the chaplain was performing a memorial service in the lounge at the facility and everyone was welcome. For some reason, she decided to attend. This was at 1030. At lunch time, after the service ended, and everyone was in the dining room, a care aid called me and asked me what was wrong with that lady over there? When I went to look, she was covering one eye with one hand and then covering another eye with the other hand and repeating this over and over again. I went over to the lady and asked "Is something the matter?" She replied "Oh yes! I don't know how this has happened to me, but...I can see!" I said I would meet her after lunch in her room to chat. After lunch, I came to her room. She was sitting in a chair by the window which she never did before and she was looking out. "I can see a boy on a bicycle! I can see a lady walking by. She is wearing a blue coat!" Her face was animated and her blue eyes twinkled. I asked "What happened? She said she was at the memorial service and the chaplain asked everyone to close their eyes to pray a prayer for the family. She said she bowed her head, closed her eyes and went to sleep. She didn't know how long she was asleep, but she woke up with a start. She doesn't know what the chaplain prayed, but he was now giving a little talk and.... she opened her eyes and could see! She said she could see very clearly! I was so awestruck! It was clear that she could indeed see. I ran down to the chaplains office and told him the good news. He spent a while with her that afternoon, he was able to talk to her about many things, she had had her eyes opened and she also had her spiritual "eyes" opened that afternoon. The chaplain told us that yes, indeed this resident's eyes were healed and so she was spiritually too. She was ready to go home. She continued for another six months or so. She was always found sitting in the chair by her window looking out. Her eyesight never faded. I was not there on duty the day she died. I came onto the unit and found her name had been taken down off her door, and the furniture was standing out in the hallway, the room was being cleared and painted for the next admission. I knew the real miracle had happened. She was joyfully "home."

WriteStuff · Jun 29, 2005

. She said she bowe It was clear that she could indeed see. I ran down to the chaplains office and told him the good news. He spent a while with her that afternoon, he was able to talk to her about many things, she had had her eyes opened and she also had her spiritual "eyes" opened that afternoon. The chaplain told us that yes, indeed this resident's eyes were healed and so she was spiritually too. She was ready to go home. She continued for another six months or so. She was always found sitting in the chair by her window looking out. Her eyesight never faded. I was not there on duty the day she died. I came onto the unit and found her name had been taken down off her door, and the furniture was standing out in the hallway, the room was being cleared and painted for the next admission. I knew the real miracle had happened. She was joyfully "home."

I just love to read these anecdotal accounts. I simply believe there are "miracles" happening around us all the time and we miss them because we're so distracted by the business of life. So, it's the obvious ones like this that grab our attention. Thx for sharing DG5.

lady_jezebel · Jun 29, 2005

:balloons: :Melody: :balloons: :Melody: :balloons: :Melody:
After 34 years in nursing I've witnessed lots of "miraculous" outcomes. There's one in particular that has stood out, and remains vivid to this day. I'm defining a "miracle" as that unexpected good outcome after all else has been attempted, and failed. Your "miracle" can be something you witnessed as a student, or within your own family, or even yourself for that matter. But what medical miracle stays with you today? (And thanks in advance, for sharing it.)
My story took place in 1971. I was a Senior Nursing Student and we were only a few short months away from graduation. Our last clinical rotation was Pediatrics which we took at Good Samaritan Hospital, in Phoenix, AZ.
I was assigned to care for a seven month old baby in the intensive care unit. For confidentiality reasons I'll refer to the baby as "Elijah", and his mother as "Sharon" - not their real names.
When my instructor informed me of my assignment my heart fell into my feet. A baby in intensive care!! Even as a student, I had known that Pediatrics would NOT be my speciality after graduation. Don't get me wrong, I love children, but I knew I did not have what it takes to be a Peds Nurse! I would be too much of a wreck all the time to be effective. Peds Nurses are a separated breed as far as I'm concerned. God has anointed them with gifts and talents beyond my comprehension. And that was not who I was.
My first day of caring for Elijah was filled with apprehension. It was only after meeting his mother that I was able to calm my jangled nerves. She was a quiet, unassuming woman, whose faith in God was gargantuous compared to mine. Elijah was not only her only son, but her only child as well. His father was no longer in the picture. Sharon was of Latino extraction so she and Elijah were well supported by extended family during this crucible time.
Elijah's medical history, in his short life so far, had been relatively un-
eventful with the exception of multiple, stubborn, "upper respiratory" infections that grew increasingly "resistant to treatment" with each successive episode. This time, when he developed the all too common symptoms of URI, he had gone into a respiratory arrest at home and thank God Sharon was there to call an ambulance!
Elijah had been hospitalized for one week when I came upon the scene. To see him lying supine in that hospital bed attached to mechanical devices that were bigger than he was seemed sci-fi to me. He was on a ventilator, he had three IV pumps, a feeding pump, and of course the leads to a cardiac monitor. Infrequently he opened his eyes. He had these huge, dark brown, doe-like eyes that pleaded for "help" whenever he made eye contact. I had all I could do to give his care each day, just because of those pleading eyes! And he had a head full of thick, angel soft, brown hair as well. The worst moments of all were when I had to suction secretions and Elijah would cough and fret, - then the baby tears would trickle down from the corners of each eye. And of course he couldn't howl with rage to protest these uncomfortable procedures, so the tears sufficed for him. And I wanted to hold him and comfort him desperately but could not under the circumstances.
He had been poked and prodded by specialists galore. Tests of every kind had been done. Finally the doctors had informed Sharon that: "We don't know why, but Elijah has lost the rigid quality of his bronchial cartilege so that whenever he would take a breath, and exhale, his bronchial tree collapses." They called it a "bronchial atresia", for which there was no known "cure" or treatment and the prognosis was grim. That was the "why" of his respiratory arrest. Elijah would die without the vent now.
Our rotation was only a two week period of time. My heart was attached to Sharon and Elijah and it was HER faith in God that kept ME coming back! She did not know that, I never shared that with her. When the final day came and our rotation ended, I was an emotional basket case. I knew I was leaving and it would be the last time I would ever see little Elijah and his mother, -and that Elijah's short life would end soon.
After I hugged Sharon and we cried together, I kissed Elijah on his baby cheek, stroked his thick brown hair one more time and walked out of the unit. I barely got outside the door when I just lost it. I knew I was going to be a heaping, sobbing, mess so I ran for the nearest solitude which I found behind a supply cart in the corner of a hallway. I sat on the floor and cried, and cried, and cried, for Elijah and his mother.
After the fact, I checked the "Obituary" column of the newspaper every day for months. I never did see Elijah's name and picture. But I never forgot about the two of them. Life went on for me. I graduated from nursing school, and my career was in gear.
It was seven years later that I had decided to give Psychiatric Nursing a try and accepted a position at Maricopa Co. Hospital in Phoenix, AZ. I was in my orientation period of that new job when one day I showed up on the unit and we had hired a new Nursing Technician. Her name was Sharon. Name tags did not have last names on them. I introduced myself to Sharon and felt a strange "familiarity" about her but just passed it off in the moment. Later that day we took our lunchbreak together in the Nurse's Lounge on the unit. We started chatting and swapping the usual..."where are you from", "how long have you lived here", etc. etc. stories. Then Sharon began sharing "why" she took a job in the nursing field. The longer I was with her the more convinced I became that I "knew her from somewhere" - I just couldn't put my finger on it yet. Then the floodgates opened. She said: "I have a son, named Elijah, who the doctors gave up on when he was a baby. He had a respiratory condition for which there was no cure at the time. But I never gave up. I trusted God would heal him somehow and HE DID!! To the amazement of everyone, including the doctors, the problem Elijah had reversed itself, and he is seven years old today!" (as she reached in her pocket and pulled out a picture of the most beautiful, smiling, big-brown-eyed , seven year old boy I had ever seen in my life!!) By this time I was screaming at her....."Sharon, Sharon, Sharon...it's ME, Bonnie, the student nurse who took care of Elijah back then!!"
Well, it was quite a scene in that Nurse's Lounge! We hugged and cried and hugged and cried together for what seemed like an eternity. But sure enough....Elijah never did die. Sharon said that "the doctors had no explanation for why Elijah improved. They weaned him off the vent...and IT WORKED. He's my MIRACLE BOY today!"
What a day that was. And what were the odds that I would just "run into" Sharon like that........SEVEN years later??? I could have done my own detective work, if I had wanted to - at ANY time during those seven years, but I didn't. I'm not only convinced it was a total "miracle"...I'm convinced that God had several lessons in all of it - designed just for me, as that student nurse. My faith grew by leaps and bounds on that wonderful day of our "reunion."
Bonnie Creighton,RN, in Minnesota

My son is 7 months old right now. This story moves me more than you'll ever know. I can "see" those eyes you were talking about, when he was on the vent. As you call it, what an absolutely beautiful miracle. Maybe your prayer, and all of the collective prayers, saved him? Thanks for sharing.

New CCU RN · Jun 29, 2005

My miracle happened when I was just ten years old. I am the oldest of six children and my youngest sister had just turned one the day before this happened. All of my other siblings were at day camp - and I remember being so excited b/c my mother and I were going wallpaper shopping for my room.

My sister was sitting in one of those chairs that attach on the edge of the table - I don't think they even make them anymore. Anyhow, I was sitting there with her helping her eat her oatmeal. My mom was in the other room getting ready to go out. All of a sudden the seat gave out, she flipped back, and landed directly on the back of her head. It was so quick. I remember bursting into to tears and calling for my mom. I went to grab Katie off (my sister) the floor as my mom walked in and realized what had happened. And then there was silence. Katie did not cry. She just laid there limp and lifeless on the floor. I started cry out loud and saying "I'm sorry mom, I'm sorry I couldnt catch her". My mom picked Katie up and she let out a little wimper and then vomited. Then I remember my mom looking at her eyes and realizing her pupils were not the same size.

We rushed her to the ER. There was no 911 then. I remember sitting next to her in the back seat wiping away her vomit and holding her hand and praying that God would help my beautiful baby sister. I could tell it was really bad. I was only ten then - but I could tell something was really wrong. We ran Katie into the ER as she began to shake uncontrollably. They rushed her back to a room where all of a sudden she was swarmed by tons of people. I couldn't even see her - just a mass of nurses and doctors and a lot of yelling. I sat there in the hallway crying when a nurse came up to me and said come with me I will take you to a soda machine. She sat me in a room with a tv and gave me sprite and said I am going to help your sister now. I was alone - crying. They kept my mom with Katie.

I don't know how much time passed when my aunt came to get me. They never let me see her. My aunt just kept on talking about going to her house to go swimming and all I could do was sob and ask to please see Katie.

That is when I found out she had been transferred to a bigger hospital. The doctors felt that the only thing to save her would be to be to drill holes in her head to relieve the pressure. This hospital didn't have a doctor that could do that to babies and so she had to be transfered a half hour away.

I later found out that there was no room for my mom to travel with Katie to the hospital and so before they left the doctors and nurses told my mom that she needed to say goodbye because it would be very unlikely that she would survive the trip. Apparently she had been having multiple seizures and was staying unresponsive. My mom (who had never been religious) - prayed for one of the first times in her life and begged God to not let Katie go.

Well, when they got to the big hospital, the neurosurgeon was mad and calling the ER doctors at the smaller hospital idiots. Apparently on the way over, Katie stopped having seizures and as they pulled into the big hospital, she began to cry when stimulated.

My sister said for a few days for observation. She had residual seizures for about a year but is no longer on medications and has not had one in many, many years. She is smart as a whip - a varsity athlete, rides horses, and is as healthy as an ox.

Every time we went back to that ER for a sprained ankle or whatever (there were six of us - and we all played sports) - we were always remembered by the staff. They called her the miracle baby and many times at least one of them would break into tears and say I can't believe she survived - I was praying for her - but I thought it was hopeless.

That is my miracle story - I still get teary writing or telling this story. Sorry if it was too long.

carolinapooh, BSN, RN · Jun 29, 2005

Well John - take my advice - start keeping a journal NOW. I look back and wish I had done that for my entire career because the most rewarding moments come by "surprise" and SHOULD be memorialized in writing - and it makes all the tears you will shed, the hair you will pull out, and the angst you feel, ...worth it. And...you WILL have, not one, but many stories like ours to share as the years fly by! Have a great day.
Bonnie in Minnesota

I will be starting a volunteer job on the SICU at the local VA hospital soon. If I have a good amount of patient contact (I know the nurse manager so I'm hoping I will), I will start my journal THEN. What a great idea.

Thank you - to all of you - for sharing your stories. These are great!