The Amazing Power of Prayer

It was July 4th, 2000. I was 24 years old. I had just spent the previous night out with a friend until sunrise. I wasn’t feeling so hot that morning, so the dizziness was not an immediate shock. It was only when that feeling neglected to leave that I became aware of it. And it was only when the fork I was using began to disappear right in front of my eyes, that I became concerned. And It wasn’t until the ball of light appeared that I became confused. Finally, it wasn’t until I woke up in an ambulance that I became terrified.
I had no idea where I was. I didn’t remember anything about what I had done that day, or even what day it was. The only thing I did seem to process, were the words spoken in the ambulance: “You had a seizure”. A seizure? I was a college student, majoring in the area of special education, so I was familiar with what a seizure was, but me? I didn’t have seizures! Someone was clearly mistaken. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the emergency room.
The doctors ran some tests and everything came back normal. They dismissed it as an “adult onset seizure”. They chose not to medicate me, and sent me on my way. I didn’t really have a second thought about what happened. I used the “seizure story” as a good excuse not to go to work or classes for a couple of days, and left it lie there. And there it stayed……..until November 29, 2000.
I was a student teacher at a school in my home town of Johnsburg, IL. The previous night, I had had very little sleep. In the morning, I had another incident. It wasn’t a full blown seizure, but I experienced the dizziness and the ball of light. It went away, and I dismissed it as a lack of sleep, and went on to school.
Several hours later, the dizziness took over. I recognized it and got myself to a safe place before the true aura began. Again, the ball of light appeared and the next thing I knew I was in another ambulance. I had had two seizures, one lasting over five minutes, and I had been unconscious for over a half of an hour.
I was medicated immediately. My license was suspended until I went 6 months without a seizure, and I was directed to an epilepsy specialist. The word epilepsy did not make sense. I didn’t understand it. I hated it. I was afraid of it. I needed to turn to someone. Fear built up inside me, and needed an outlet.
After having an MRI done, my doctor found a “spot” in one of the slides. He didn’t want to jump to any conclusions before having other professionals review my results. A few days later, I walked in my house and saw my parents and my brother sitting solemnly on the couch. I don’t quite remember the entire conversation, but I sure do remember the word “tumor”. Brain tumor. Brain tumor? Brain tumor! Those words sent me spinning into all different kinds of directions. How could I have a brain tumor? I was too young! I wanted to get married, to have children, to live! I wasn’t ready to die! My life hadn’t even started yet!
I was scheduled to meet with a neurosurgeon. She had some good news and some bad news. The good news was that she did not feel that it was necessarily a “tumor”. The bad news was that she felt it still needed to be removed, just in case it was. It was discovered that the lesion was located on the visual cortex of my brain and surgery was going to affect my vision. I had to face the fact that ending up blind was a possibility. We scheduled the surgery for January 4th, 2001, deciding to wait until after the holidays………..just in case.
I acted much stronger than I felt those days. Inside, my true feelings were eating me up. I started to talk to God. He became that outlet I so desperately needed. Each night, my prayers evolved. What began as a desperate plea for my life, turned into praying for strength to accept His will. My prayers became more like daily conversations with God. My biggest fear throughout everything was that I would not be able to have a family. I prayed that someday, I would.
Prayer became the center of my life. My parents had started prayer chains. My aunt and grandma held vigil in a small prayer chapel in their town. People began sending me prayer cards and holy water and rosaries. Church and family became important to me. It was amazing how quickly my priorities changed.
The Sunday before I was scheduled to have surgery, our priest did a special healing ceremony for me. I stood in front of our congregation while they raised their hands in prayer and blessed me. I prayed it would help.
The hospital called the day before surgery. I was supposed to have an MRI done there because my previous one was not in their computer system. This had been overlooked, resulting in the last minute call, and an hour’s drive to the city.
The day of surgery, we were on the road by 5:00 AM. I remember praying for God’s angels to guide us swiftly through traffic because I didn’t think I could stand the slow, treacherous drive through the morning rush hour. We made it in record time, and I knew He was with me.
My mom was the only one allowed in with me as they prepared me for surgery. I held her hand, saying prayers in my head until the world went black.
Still overwhelmed with grogginess from the anesthesia, I opened my eyes and saw a nurse. I asked him if the surgery was already over. He said “They never did the surgery”. As I drifted in and out of consciousness, I tried to make sense of what he had said. The only conclusion I could draw was that they had discovered an inoperable tumor.
When I returned to my room, I looked up at my mom and said, “It’s inoperable”. She hugged me, and explained what really happened in that operating room:

I was unconscious, head in clamps, and ready for the surgeon. She came in, and began reviewing the images of the MRI from the previous day. Several hours later, after comparing the two MRI’s with the head of radiology, the team made the decision to ABORT my surgery. There was no lesion to be found. The surgery never took place because there was no longer anything to remove.

The following day they performed an angiogram, to check the blood vessels in my brain and make sure they hadn’t missed anything. That test also came back clean as a whistle. The neurosurgeon was amazed because she had NEVER aborted a surgery in her entire career. I believe the word miracle left her lips several times that day.

* * *

Six months after my brain surgery experience, my doctor ordered a follow-up MRI, just to make sure things were still on track. Unfortunately, the spot had returned. At first, it seemed like such a major setback to me, but I realized that a miracle did in fact occur. I have not had one single seizure since the two I had in November of 2000. I have had several MRI’s over the past six years. Every single MRI shows the spot. Every single one except the one taken the day before my surgery. Why? I believe that God did not want me to undergo brain surgery that day. He had other plans for me. I truly feel that my experience was all part of His plan to open my eyes to the things in life that truly matter. I now realize what a true GIFT it is just to be alive. I try to live my life as if it could end at any moment. My faith has been renewed and I remain in constant communication with God. I thank Him for the blessings I have been given, the most important being my life and my family.
One prayer was definitely heard and answered. In August 2001, I met a wonderful man named Jamie and we were married in June 2002. We were blessed with a beautiful daughter, Kailyn, in August 2003, and a healthy son, James, in May 2006. Every single time I hear the word “Mommy”, I am reminded of the truly amazing power of prayer. Just look at what it did for me.