March 3, 2022

 

I think it's time to tell you a story.

 

I still can't go into every detail. There's so much in my mind and heart, I need more time to sort that all out. But so very many friends have literally prayed me to this place, I have to thank you.

 

I fell and broke my shoulder on October 27, 2021 - on my morning walk! How many horrific health stories start with a fall? The trip to the ER put our minds to rest - no surgery needed - huzzah. Just physical therapy, because hello! Shoulder.

 

Three days later, both Dale and I presented with covid symptoms. How many people do you know who were exposed to covid in a hospital? We tested positive two days later, and as my breathing quickly became an issue, I was admitted to Park City's IHC facility on November 3, 2021, because there weren't any beds available at IMC.

 

I was life flighted back to IMC and intubated on November 22. With the inevitable slowing down of body functions that accompanies sedation, I developed a bowel obstruction that required life-saving surgery.

 

Except when covid has weakened your body, the sutures leak, and you go into septic shock. Suddenly, Dale was wondering if I would live, if I would function again - even cognitively, or if he should start planning a funeral.

 

That's when the fasting and prayers really intensified. After nearly three more weeks on a ventilator, I came to, almost completely immobile and helpless. It was a week before Christmas. The only explanation for my survival was Divine Intervention. Clearly, God wasn't finished with me on the planet yet.

 

For two weeks, IHC's patient services tried to find a skilled nursing facility that would take me. Because my kidneys had failed because of the sepsis, none would take me because of my immobility. How would they get me to a dialysis center?

 

At first, we were heartsick when the only place that would take us was in Roy - 45 minutes from home. Little did we know how God's hand was in that as well. We learned that this particular SNF, and its sister facility in Bountiful, were the only places in a 4-state area that had in-house dialysis. They had the ability to use a Hoyer lift to get me to dialysis down the hall, versus across town.

 

I was admitted to Heritage Park on January 6, 2022 for rehabilitation. I had to learn everything over again. Literally. Everything. How to breathe, talk, swallow, eat, sit up, stand up, walk.

 

Thanks to more fasting and prayers, priesthood blessings, and the help and support of family, friends, and angelic health care workers, I was discharged on February 23, 2022, and came home. I hadn't seen my home for nearly 4 months. It will be months before I can approach the Laureen of October 26, 2021. But as of today, I don't have to rest after I brush my teeth anymore, and I am rocking the stairs.

 

I have never felt God's presence in every second of every day the way I have in this 4 month experience. I've come to think of it as my personal Liberty Jail winter.

 

The hardest thing I've ever had to endure happened on the most sacred ground I have ever walked. God used many people to serve me, and He allowed me to serve Him as well - in testifying of Him every chance I got.

 

Those of you who have fasted and prayed for me - I will never be able to thank you properly. Just know - you are part of a cloud of witnesses to God's goodness, His love for His children, and His healing power. Jesus Christ succored me through this experience so all of us can know that miracles still happen.