Miracle through the intercession of Mary
When I was young, my family would always say "Hail Mary's" whenever we heard an ambulance. Never touched by the loss of life in our young lives we said these Hail Marys out of duty. It became a ritual said, without much thought to whom might be dying in the ambulance. I never gave this habit of prayer much thought until a year and a half ago when I said the "Hail Mary" for my own dear son Dylan from inside an ambulance.
This is the miraculous story. My husband and I were separated, and I was living on my own with my then 9 year old daughter Anna and my son Dylan. Dylan was only 2 at the time. When he became sick one night, it seemed to me he just had a fever or the stomach flu. So I gave him some infant Tylenol and some juice. We went to bed.
I changed my mind in the morning. He didn't recognize me and he couldn't hold his little cup to drink some more juice. I knew then that something was seriously wrong. I woke my daughter up and prayed my medical coupons had not expired (I had no medical insurance.) I then prayed I'd be able to find them, and went searching for them. I found them first place I looked. I may not have taken him to the hospital had I not found them. I have never been prone to over-react and still thought maybe he just had a high fever that I could take care of at home.
Then I prayed again. "Please Lord Jesus let my car start." I had been having car trouble all week and again, if it hadn't started I probably wouldn't have gone to the trouble of going to the hospital. The car started like a charm.
My daughter and I wrapped up baby Dylan in a blanket. She held him in the back seat while I drove him to our local hospital. I called his father and my mother at that point. When we arrived at the hospital, the doctors quickly discovered what I hadn't even dreamed of. My son was dying. By examining him and doing a horrible procedure called spinal tap they discovered he had an infection called meningococcal meningitis. In successfully treating this infection, timing was everything, and we had very little time left.
They ordered a helicopter to meet us at a helicopter pad to take him to the Seattle Children's Hospital an hour and a half's drive from our home. My mother arrived, and took care of Anna. I crawled into the ambulance with Dylan and said 'Hail Mary's' the whole way to the Helicopter pad. It was during that cramped, noisy, terrifying drive I was sudenly enveloped with a unexplainable peace. I can only compare it to the warm and safe feeling that you have when your mother would hold you and make you feel everything will be all right.
I knew then too, despite the doctors telling me that his chances of survival were slim. that all would be O.K. I knew my son would live.
When they put Dylan in the helicopter they wouldn't allow myself or my mother to ride with him. So the three of us; my mom, my daughter and myself drove to Seattle to meet Dylan and his father at the hospital. I consoled them on the way there. I repeated over and over that I was not scared, I felt the peace of Mary.
When we arrived at the hospital my husband was by Dylan's bedside in Isolated Intensive care. He had a mask and robe on and was looking and sounding very grim. (He had lost both his parents the year before 6 months apart from each other.) He told us the doctors had told him that Dylan had gone into shock while in the helicopter, we also found out later he had a stroke.
I told him firmly "My son will live." I knew that as surely as though Jesus had told me himself. Other relatives began arriving. They were all crying in the waiting room. I didn't cry. I love my children more than I can tell you. But I felt strength and peace.
That night, despite the fact the doctors told me how contagious he was I crawled into bed with him and nursed him. (I was still breast feeding) The doctors and nurses didn't say anything, I think they thought this might be our last goodbye, and didn't stop me.
Dylan began getting better that night. But in the room next door a Filipeno family was singing. They sung their baby to Heaven. The next morning, my little son looked at me and asked, "Where is Rosie?" We don't know anyone named Rosie, so I thought "Great, he is still dis-oriented or has brain damage." But two hours later I discovered the baby next door had died of the same Meningococcal Meningitis infection. Her name was Rosie.
Today, Dylan is a bright and extremely gifted 4 year old. He loves Jesus and prays to St. Therese and St. Michael. He, at his bidding, has a prayer table in his room with a statue of Mary and his Rosary on it.
I have felt very close to The Blessed Virgin Mary since this ordeal and just wanted to share this story.
*Meningococcal Meningitis is a serious bacterial illness that attacks the body's vascular system and clotting ability. It may also include Meningitis an infection of the covering of the brain. The same bacteria is involved in both illness. It works rapidly sometimes causing death within hours.
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