June 25, 2012 was the day that changed my life forever. I was awakened around 1:00am by the most horrific noise coming from my husband, Jeff. He was having the most violent seizure I had ever witnessed. I started shaking him and screaming his name in hopes that he would snap out of it, but he remained unresponsive. My hands were shaking so much that I could barely dial 911 for help. It seemed like it took forever for the EMTs to arrive. They immediately began to try and stabilize him but all of their efforts fell short so their focus shifted to getting him to a hospital. It took about forty-five minutes to get him loaded onto a gurney for transport to Trident Regional Medical Center, the closest hospital. Jeff was still seizing when they left in the ambulance.

I arrived at the hospital around 2:30am and was informed that the doctor(s) were trying to stabilize Jeff so they could run some tests and scans to try and figure out what was wrong. I decided to call Jeff’s brother, Greg, and let him know what was going on. Greg left work immediately and came to the hospital along with Malinda, their sister. We were summoned to a small, private room where we were greeted not by a doctor, but the hospital chaplain. As he began to talk, my heart sank. Why was he there and not a doctor? He was asking me question after question, but I could not answer him. I finally looked up at him and all I could say was that I wanted to talk to a doctor and that he could leave right then. By this point, I was crying hysterically and was terrified of what I would be told when the doctor(s) did show up.

Finally, a doctor came out to the waiting room to speak with us around 3:15am. He told us that he suspected Jeff had suffered an aneurysm and was going to have him transported to the NSICU (Neuroscience Intensive Care Unit) at MUSC (Medical University of South Carolina). Greg and I followed the ambulance to MUSC. When we finally got to the NSICU on the 9th floor, they had already taken Jeff to have an angiogram to try and determine the location of the suspected aneurysm. An hour or two had passed when Dr. Hayes finally came out to give us Jeff’s prognosis. At this point, they knew Jeff had a substantial hemorrhage, but they could not determine exactly where it occurred. His cranial pressure was at 77 (normal is below 20) when he arrived so a catheter was placed through his skull to try and relieve the pressure. Dr. Hayes also explained that the “seizure” was a result of the brain shutting down. Without the brain functioning properly to instruct the other organs on what to do, all of the body’s systems go into a chaotic state. The only way to stabilize Jeff was to put him into an induced coma with life support.

On the morning of day two in the NSICU, Dr. Hayes was just finishing up an assessment on Jeff when I walked into his room. She turned to see who I was and then began to explain that my husband had suffered from a grade 5 subarachnoid hemorrhage, which was the worst case scenario. I asked what that meant and she began to explain that one of the four main arteries supplying blood to his brain had ruptured and flooded the space surrounding it, which should only contain spinal fluid. Dr. Hayes explained that “blood is like sand to the brain. It destroys the tissue. Your husband is very, very sick. His prognosis is not good.” I asked her if he was going to die and she told me that he had less than a 10% chance of surviving, and if he did pull through, he would not be the same. He would most likely have severe brain damage and be totally dependent on others and machines to live. I looked over at my husband lying there in that hospital bed with tubes down his throat, in his head, his chest and his arms. He was hooked to all kinds of machines and monitors to keep him alive. I could feel the knots churning in my stomach as she continued to talk, and then she asked me the questions that no one ever wants to be asked. “Does your husband have a living will?” My heart sank as I shook my head no. She then asked, “Do you know what he would want?” I stood there and just stared at her for what seemed like an hour before she broke the silence by telling me that she was sorry, but the odds were against Jeff. The whole time she was talking my mind was thinking over and over, there is no way I can tell our five year old son that his daddy is never coming home.

It is terrifying to know that someone’s life or death can lie in your hands. Should a doctor’s medical opinion(s) be the determining factor when it comes to “pulling the plug”, or should one rely on their faith and/or religious beliefs? After my husband’s ordeal, I can honestly say that I truly believe that prayer/faith will always be my first choice. Doctors can only give their opinions based on their medical studies and experience. They cannot allow themselves to instill false hope into a patient’s loved one(s) by acknowledging the faith/religious aspects of healing. I am fully aware that this doesn’t mean that they don’t believe in a higher power, they just can’t express that in their line of work. They are scientists and must yield to a scientific approach.

Statistically, my husband should have died that day. According to the Hunt and Hess Grading Scale, Jeff had less than a 10% chance of survival (Macdonald). When Dr. Hayes asked me if I knew what my husband would have wanted, my response probably seemed very unrealistic to her. I told her that I was positive that Jeff would not want to stay on life support to keep him alive, but it had only been two days since he was admitted and to give him a fighting chance! Jeff not coming home was not an option. My son needed his father and I needed my husband. I am pretty sure she thought I was crazy, but that was what I wanted to believe. Dr. Hayes, a.k.a. Dr. Doom from that day forward, was only doing her job. She based her medical opinion on her findings and experience, and wanted me to be prepared for the likelihood that he would not make it home. I must admit, I wasn’t sure of what to think or do, so that night I decided to pray. I was not an active Christian, but I did believe in God. I prayed more that night than I had prayed my whole life and probably cried just as much. The next morning (day 3), I awoke with the greatest sense of clarity. I told myself, no more crying and thinking negative. There would be nothing but positive thoughts in my head and around Jeff. When I arrived at the NSICU later that day, Jeff’s condition was the same. For the rest of the day, I made sure that anyone that came to see Jeff kept a positive attitude while visiting and asked them to pray for us.

Around 11:30 that night, the nurse turned off Jeff’s sedatives for the doctor’s evaluation at midnight. The doctor arrived promptly at 12:00pm. He began his assessment as I watched intently to see if Jeff responded in any way. He leaned down by Jeff’s right ear and yelled “Mr. KNOX!” Jeff’s eyes immediately popped open and then closed almost as fast! I almost fell over from my excitement. The doctor repeated this a second and third time and Jeff responded by opening his eyes each time. Once I regained my composure, I asked the doctor if that was a good sign. I was skeptical because Jeff had moved his fingers earlier that day and I was told it was just an involuntary reflex and not intentional on Jeff’s part. The doctor smiled and ensured me that it was a good sign. Could the prayers and positive attitudes have been responsible for Jeff’s responses?

I continued praying and insisting that nothing but positive thoughts be allowed into my husband’s room. He improved every day, all the way up to day seventeen, the day of his release from MUSC and transferred over to Kindred Hospital for ventilation weaning. Jeff began physical, speech and occupational therapy at Kindred, but was transferred to HealthSouth after only six days. He was still not able to walk and still had a tracheostomy upon arrival there, but it did not take him very long to conquer those obstacles! Jeff was released from HealthSouth just two short weeks after he arrived; walking, talking and acting like his old, witty self!

When it was all said and done, Jeff went from less than a 10% chance of survival to possibly being 100% disabled, and then to an almost 100% recovery in less than six weeks! I could hardly believe it! The doctors were floored as well. He truly was a miracle. If anyone ever doubts the power of prayers and faith, I can attest that they are very real and work miracles!

Works Cited

Macdonald, R. Loch. "Editorial: Subarachnoid Hemorrhage and Outcome." Journal of Neurosurgery 119 (2013): 603-605. article. November 2013. .