Dad's Miracles
by: MrsPejay
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Word Count: 1717
Many times in my life I had heard of various miracles that have blessed so many around the world. Like so many other people I never dreamed that one-day I would be praying for a miracle to happen. In May of 2003 my father was diagnosed with bowel cancer.
Thankfully they caught it early enough. He had a series of radiotherapy then on the 23 July 2003 he under went surgery to remove the cancer. They had managed to get the entire tumour out and the prognosis was good. Mum and I spent a few hours on the phone thanking people for their prayers and letting them know that Dad was doing fine and was expected to make a full recovery.
On that same night, at 2.30am Mum got a phone call from the hospital. Dad was having trouble breathing and they wanted her down there as soon as possible. She called me and I raced around and picked her up on the way to the hospital. We met the surgeon as we came off the elevator on the 4th floor. He explained that Dad started having difficulty breathing. The anaesthetist was talking to doctors at Royal Perth Hospital asking for confirmation on her treatment plan. This was the proper procedure for country hospitals in emergency situations like this.
By 11am Dad’s condition had worsened to a critical state. Our hospital didn’t have the equipment that was required so it was decided that he had to be flown to Perth by the Royal Flying Doctor Service. At 12noon the ambulance arrived with the doctor and nurse from the flying doctor service to collect Dad for transportation. It is a one and a half hour flight to Perth. Mum was able to fly down with Dad in the plane. With no sleep in 32 hours, I drove the five-hour journey to Perth. To this day I am not sure how I made it there in one piece. I cried and prayed all the way down and don’t remember one thing about the actual journey. I know it was Jesus who got me to Royal Perth Hospital at 7pm on the 24 July 2003 safely.
I found Mum sitting in the waiting room at ICU. Mum explained to me that Dad was in theatre. The doctors needed to see that there was no residue left from the bowel cancer operation to cause any infection. She then broke down telling me how the doctor on the plane, had to resuscitate Dad in flight, then again in the ambulance coming in from the airport, and again twice in the emergency department
Doctors had placed Dad into a drug-induced coma in Geraldton before he was flown down. He was on a respirator and about nine different drugs. His lungs had collapsed, then one by one different organs started to shut down. His kidneys failed and dialysis was connected up. His liver started to shut down. Over the next three days he had another two trips to the theatre and his condition kept sinking to a very dangerous low.
On Wednesday the 27 July 2003 the doctors informed us that there was nothing else they could do. They suggested we should call family and friends in to say their goodbyes. We were both totally devastated. I left my Mum in tears in the waiting room and went to make the phone calls. The first call was to my husband, who was at home with our youngest daughter. Then I called Dads family and our family friends, while my husband called our Pastors and his family back in Canada.
By the time I had finished making all the phone calls I had come to a resolve. If it is God’s will that Dad should go home to Him, then so be it. I was not going to give up. I refused to say goodbye. In my heart I knew that this was not Dad’s time. I don’t know how I knew, but it was such a strong feeling that I felt a sense of peace in all the emotional turmoil.
The following day family and friends came and went. My husband and daughter arrived at 5pm 28 July 2003. My husband went in with me to see Dad and we stood and prayed over him. Neither of us said goodbye. Then my little 13-year-old daughter went in with my husband and they prayed over Dad. Shortly after they came out, my daughter asked me to take her back in there, she had something she had to say to Poppy. She stood by Dad’s bedside and said, “Pop it is not your time. You are not dying. Now fight and that is an order.” Then she turned to me and said, “Mum, Jesus is not done with Poppy yet.” I asked her why she thought that and she said, “Because Pop has not asked Jesus into his life yet and He wants us to make sure he does before He calls him home.”
Two hours later, I was still hugging my daughter, feeling so proud of her attitude and maturity in her faith when one of the head doctors raced into the waiting room. Mum froze as he ran in and my husband grabbed my hand. “I don’t know how, but your husband is improving. I honestly can’t explain it, but things are starting to look up.”
Dad spent thirteen days in ICU; he had nine days on the ward; he was transferred back home to our hospital where he spent another fourteen days gaining strength and learning to walk again.
As I left Royal Perth Hospital I went up to ICU to thank the staff for all they had done for dad and for their great support to mum and myself. One of the doctors gave me a hug and said, “I am not a Christian. In fact I have always doubted God ever existed. Your Dad has shown me that there is more to healing than medicine.”
Twelve months later dad was flown back to Perth for seven weeks, with his life hanging in the balance. Returning to ICU and meeting up with the same team of doctors and nurses from the year before was like homecoming. Mum and I had free access to the ICU area where dad was. We came and went as we pleased and even assisted the nursing staff in dads daily needs.
Again through the miracles of God, Dad pulled through and we were on our way back home. This time dad flew, but Mum and I had to drive.
We hadn’t even left the city when we were stuck in a traffic jam. Mum was anxious to get home to see to dad. When a car came speeding up from behind and crashed into the back of our car. The whole back end was crumpled up and we found out later that the chassis was cracked severely. A wonderful tow truck operator did his best to make the car road worthy enough to get us home, as soon as we told him of our situation.
For the life of me I am still in awe of the fact that we made the 500km journey without mishap. When an assessor looked at the car he was shocked we were able to drive it all that way and he wrote it off as un-roadworthy and not for repair. We can only put our safe return home to a miracle of God.
Dad recovered about 65% over the next year, when we were told that the cancer had returned. Over the next nine months we travel by air to Perth for oncology checks every three weeks. At first Mum went down with dad, until her knees got so bad she could not handle the walking and stress, and then I took over and went with dad.
It was on our last trip down I was laying on my bed reading my bible when dad looked over and asked me what I was reading. I told him it was my bible and he then asked me to read some to him. I hadn’t really taken much notice of what I had been reading until that moment. My thoughts were elsewhere and not on the words my eyes were scanning. I looked down at the page and noticed I had been reading John 3. So I read my favourite verses from that chapter to Dad.
Looking over to him he was lying back on the bed with his eyes closed, so I read the whole chapter to him. When I had finished I looked over at him again. He was now sitting on the edge of his bed with tears rolling down his eyes. Concerned I went to him and asked him what was wrong. He looked up at me and said, “I never knew just how much he did love us”. We talked a little and I asked him if he would mind if I prayed over him. Now my Dad always claimed to be an atheist, but he did ask questions and enjoyed some of the old hymns. So this was a bit of a shock to me, when he said yes please.
Now I was crying with him and I prayed, laying hands on my beloved daddy. As I was ending my prayer Dad spoke and asked Jesus into his life. We held each other in our arms for what seemed like eternity. It was the most precious moment of my life and meant more to me than when I gave my own life to Christ. My Dad gave his life to our precious Lord and Saviour on Wednesday 31st of August 2005. At 6.30am on Monday the 19th September 2005 my darling Dad passed away in the presence of the three girls he loved the most, his wife, daughter and granddaughter
He is now in the arms of Jesus, home at peace in that heavenly paradise.
About the Author
Submitted by MrsPejay in loving memory of her dearly loved Father.
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