In the dark moments of my coma, a special song on the radio helped me find my way out.
It had been over a week and the only sounds you could hear were coming from the machines that were keeping me alive.
The brain hemorrhage had been massive and doctors say I should have died instantly. When I didn't, they immediately warned my family that if I ever did come out of the coma, there most likely would be a host of disabilities to face.
Frightening to say the least, that list included everything from severe brain damage, to an inability to walk, or even blindness. So immediately, all my family and friends went into "official denial mode" -- refusing to accept any of this and instead, began searching for ways to rouse me from my silence. Learn how to share and depend on one another.
Though doctors refused to put any stock in this, some response was seen through my vital signs as they would change, depending on the visitor. My heart rate would slow or increase and my blood pressure would elevate or move lower. There were even some who were not allowed to see me as it appeared they agitated me too much -- something that was strictly prohibited!
This whole response thing gave my brother-in-law, Greg, an idea. As a great supporter of my singing and songwriting career, Greg decided to take some of my songs I had recently recorded to a local radio station, where he explained about my illness. He told them he was sure I could hear what was going on around me and he knew that having my own songs played on the radio was a huge dream of mine. He was sure this could reach me and do more than any medicine or machine could.
Times have changed and radio stations are not as free to do this sort of thing because of the legalities. So it was to Greg's amazement and delight, that without hesitation, they agreed to help! They even gave him a specific date and time so that he could have "radio in hand" at my hospital bed. Greg's idea had filled everyone with hope and now the moment had arrived. Nervous from sheer anticipation, Greg held the radio close to my ear, while family joined hands and watched over me hoping for any reaction.
The DJ made a pre-song announcement about my situation to the general audience, then spoke directly to me.
"Shelly this is for you, I want you to REALLY LISTEN now. This is not just your song we're playing, but your family's song of hope. All of us at KKDJ wish you a speedy recovery."
Everyone in the room held their breath as the music began. The song was only part way into its verse, when they all witnessed the tears streaming down my pale cheeks. Though still not awake, it was obvious I heard my song. Greg said everyone, including medical personnel, cheered! It was in this moment, the very hope everyone had asked for, was realized.
Just a few days later, hope turned into reality. I did in fact awaken and how fitting that Greg was the first person to see me open my eyes.
Though not completely unscathed, I did not suffer from any of the major disabilities that had been predicted.
Hope and love have no boundaries -- it is not something we can put on paper, or adeptly describe. It does not recognize medical science as its governing law.
Hope is the part of us that makes us pick up the pieces and try again. Without hope where would we be?