Divine intervention saved my grandson.
By Carol Gonzales
Almost ten years ago my grandson and my mother were rushed to the hospital the same day and the same time. They were both suffering from congestive heart failure and were dying. We found out that day that my grandson, who was only four months old, was missing a chamber of his heart and needed immediate surgery. The surgery took place a few days later, and my grandson was then put on a ventilator.
My mother, on the other hand, was holding on by the grace of God. The two of them held on to life with a force so strong that to this day still amazes me.
My grandson was fighting to live and my mother was not willing to let go. When it looked like neither one would make it, I went to my mother and asked her to go to the Father and ask him to save our baby. If there was nothing she could do here, perhaps she could talk to God for us.
That evening she passed, and the following morning my grandson was taken off the ventilator and lived. Cecilio is nine now and is a healthy boy after undergoing five open-heart surgeries.
Miracles--how could anyone not believe?
A Sign of the Heart
Before my heart transplant, I was drawn to a special boy who appeared to me in a dream. Was he the donor who would save my life?
By Jan Jimenez
In 1999 I was admitted to a local hospital in Connecticut with symptoms including choking and water retention. One day right before breakfast, a doctor walked in and told me that I would not be leaving the hospital without a new heart. This came as a huge shock to me, since the day before the doctors were talking about sending me home. The diagnosis: I was suffering from congestive heart failure with a viral infection that attacked my heart and caused it to become enlarged--a condition called cardiomyopathy. Without a new heart, I would die.
That very same day, I did leave the hospital--only to be sent to one that specialized in heart transplants. As I rode in the ambulance, with the sirens screeching, my husband followed the ambulance in his car.
There I received a portable device with an IV built in that pumped medication into my heart. This would help my heart function until a suitable heart donor could be found. I went home with the device and used it for about eight and a half months--until I got so sick that I was put on a respirator. My kidneys were starting to fail. I needed a new heart soon, or I knew I wasn't going to make it. To top it off, I have a rare blood type, O negative-so it was hard to find an exact match quickly.
While awaiting my new heart, I had a dream: a neatly dressed young boy with short, dark hair and a handsome face, came to my hospital bed and said, "I want you to have my heart." As he said this, he picked up my hand and kissed it gently. I asked him why he wanted me to have his heart. He said, "Because you are special. You deserve it."
I told my husband about my dream first thing in the morning. I knew that a heart would be coming my way. Three weeks later, my doctor told me a donor had been found. My new heart would come from a 15-year-old boy from Vermont. That's all I knew. I had the transplant, and all went reasonably well.
A few years later, my husband and I decided to go on a short trip. I didn't want to go too far away in case I became ill. I was interested in going to Vermont to see what it was like, since that was where my donor had grown up. Although I didn't know what town he was from, I was drawn to a place called Rutland. I had a feeling my donor had lived there and I wanted to see what it looked like. I noticed on the map, Rutland was called the "Heart of Vermont." That settled it--we were going there. As we arrived in Rutland, we were amazed to see a giant rainbow in the sky. I knew this was a sign that this was where my heart donor had lived. The people were really friendly there, and it was just beautiful. I liked it so much that I decided that I would visit again the following year on the anniversary of my heart transplant.
I didn’t realize it, but during my next visit, my daughter Lauren e-mailed the Rutland Herald newspaper and told them that I was a heart transplant recipient staying in town and that I had a strong feeling my donor was from Rutland. A reporter called me at my hotel, and we set up an interview. The newspaper then printed a front-page story about me. I was hoping the donor's family would read my story because I was very interested in meeting them (if they were interested in meeting me). Six months later, I got a call from my heart donor's mother.
She told me she had seen the article in the paper, which prompted her to check with the hospital organ donor's department. It turned out that she lived in Rutland and worked right across the street from the hotel where we stayed. She said her son Andrew was 15 years old when he passed away after a diving accident. She mailed pictures to me right away. He was a handsome young man with dark hair. Her son looked just like the young man in my dream.
Shortly before his accident, Andrew had told his mother that he wanted to be an organ donor and that it was very important to him. He could not wait to get his driver's license, he said, so that it would say on the back that he was an organ donor.
When he died his mother knew that she should sign the papers giving permission for the hospital to harvest his organs. I received his heart, and seven other people received his other organs. He was a very special boy who kept eight people alive.
Today, I'm doing very well, and I am thankful every minute of every day to God and my donor's family. This coming July will be the sixth anniversary of my new heart. I'll be going back to the "Heart of Vermont" to see the family of the boy who saved my life.
'My Daddy says only a miracle can save my brother now . . . so how much does a miracle cost?'
Sally was only eight years old when she heard Mommy and Daddy talking about her little brother, Georgi. He was very sick and they had done everything they could afford to save his life. Only a very expensive surgery could help him now . . . and that was out of the financial question. She heard Daddy say it with a whispered desperation, "Only a miracle can save him now."
Sally went to her bedroom and pulled her piggy bank from its hiding place in the closet. She shook all the change out on the floor and counted it carefully. Three times. The total had to be exactly perfect. No chance here for mistakes. Tying the coins up in a cold-weather-kerchief, she slipped out of the apartment and made her way to the corner drug store.
She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her attention. . but he was too busy talking to another man to be bothered by an eight-year-old. Sally twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise. She cleared her throat. No good. Finally she took a quarter from its hiding place and banged it on the glass counter. That did it!
"And what do you want?" the pharmacist asked in an annoyed tone of voice.
"Well, I want to talk to you about my brother," Sally answered back in the same annoyed tone. "He's sick . . . and I want to buy a miracle."
"I beg your pardon," said the pharmacist.
"My Daddy says only a miracle can save him now . . . so how much does a miracle cost?"
"We don't sell miracles here, little girl. I can't help you."
"Listen, I have the money to pay for it. Just tell me how much it costs."
The well-dressed man stooped down and asked, "What kind of a miracle does you brother need?"
"I don't know," Sally answered. A tear started down her cheek. "I just know he's really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my folks can't pay for it . . . so I have my money.
"How much do you have?" asked the well-dressed man.
"A dollar and eleven cents," Sally answered proudly. "And it's all the money I have in the world."
"Well, what a coincidence," smiled the well-dressed man. A dollar and eleven cents . . . the exact price of a miracle to save a little brother. He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he grasped her mitten and said "Take me to where you live. I want to see your brother and meet your parents."
That well-dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, renowned surgeon, specializing in solving Georgi's malady. The operation was completed without charge and it wasn't long until Georgi was home again and doing well. Mommy and Daddy were happily talking about the chain of events that had led them to this place.
"That surgery," Mommy whispered. "It's like a miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost?
Sally smiled to herself. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost... one dollar and eleven cents... plus the faith of a little child.
Enormous ... Kenneth at 73-stone
AT a massive 73-stone, Kenneth Brumley must lose weight, or die. His daily intake of 30,000 calories is the same as a regular-sized man eats in two weeks.For four years he's been confined to a bed which buckled under his weight and powerless to move his gigantic legs. Only deliveries of fast food from his partner Serena break the monotony of the day.
Because of this weakness for junk food, Kenneth is among two million Americans who are over 40-stone, and classed as super morbidly obese. Kenneth, 40, from
"They've been the worst of my life.
"It is like I'm a prisoner to myself.
"I just sit here, watch TV and eat.
"Tha
t's all I do, every day."The volume of food Kenneth consumes is truly shocking. He says: "I'd wake up and get chilly cheese fries for breakfast." It's basically fast food 24 hours a day, seven days a week" That and a case of super-strength lager. "At my heaviest I ate three or four cheeseburgers at a time, maybe a half gallon of orange juice or apple juice." Two litre bottles of soda would last about 30 minutes." If I feel like Chinese, McDonald' I don't know if it's an addiction. But once that weight gets on you, it's hard getting it off 's or Mexican, that's what I get."
Amazingly, Kenneth, a dad-of-four, used to be a sports fanatic. But his weight problem started at 19, when he temporarily moved to
The weight stopped me enjoying life with my kids. I've missed most of their young lives "I don't know if it's an addiction. But once that weight gets on you, it's hard getting it off." Unsurprisingly, Kenneth's had little success with fad diets. But gastric bypass surgery, to reduce the size of his stomach, could be the answer. He says: "I've tried low calorie, low carbs and the Greek food diet." I did what exercise I could from my bed, but you lose 20 to 30 pounds, and that's it." Then you gain it back twice more. "
I'd like to have a gastric bypass because I think that would be a big help and would change my life." There is no way I'm going to improve like this." Massive problem ... fire crews attempt to get Kenneth out of bed. After being accepted as a gastric bypass patient at the prestigious
Despite the horrendous effort required to shrink his size, Kenneth remains determined to succeed. He says: "It might take a few months but I'm going to be back on my feet. "It's been a long time since I had fresh air." I'm looking forward to being outside." The weight also stopped me enjoying life with my kids. "I've missed most of their young lives, so now they're young ladies." It won't be long before they're getting married." I want to be sure I'm walking with them proudly down the aisle."
