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My grandmother had open heart surgery this week. She went in around eight in the morning. Around three in the afternoon, a PA came and asked to see the family in a comfort room. Our stomaches dropped. He informed us that the calcium deposits were deteriorating her heart and she was bleeding out. He said that 99% of the people who have this happen die. We were so shocked. After five more hours of surgery, which felt like five days, the surgeon came out to talk to us. The doctor said that 100 surgeons were to see this problem they would see 100 people die. He went on to tell us that he had helped save two other people with the problem in his career and now three. He let us know that he felt he had been divinely inspired during surgery. He said that we all had experience a miracle that day.
That was three days ago. Since then, doctor after doctor has come in and called my grandma a miracle. While the healing processes has been difficult, she has been healing quickly considering all that has happened. She is breathing on her own. Her heart is beating on its own. She is talking to us. She is listening to the doctor and nurses so that she can continue to get better. Yesterday she was sitting in a chair.
My grandmother has been a strong woman all her life. From the day she arrived here in America when she was six she has done all that she can and has done it to the best of her ability. Has she been perfect? No. No one is. She is still one of the strongest women I know. I hope I grow up to be just like her.
Labels: grandmother, heart, hope, hospital, strong, surgery