About This Blog

My blog shares my recovery journey from childhood abuse to living with mental illness. I've been involved in twelve step groups and therapy since 1982. I accepted Jesus as my Savior in 1988. To the best of my ability, I have followed where He wants me to go and what He wants me to do. Maybe you'll find the hope and strength you need through what I write. Maybe you want to stop hurting yourself. Maybe you have a friend who needs help and can benefit from my story. I was newly disabled when I asked God this question: "What do you want me to do with my life?" I closed my eyes and paused for a few moments to still my mind. This is what I sensed from Him: "Amy, I want you to write your story to bring hope and healing to those who are still suffering." And that's exactly what I am doing!

Friday, April 13, 2018

Aaron's Death - Days 1 & 2

It's the eighth year anniversary of my 18 year old nephew Aaron's unexpected death.  We're on the second of five days that he laid in I.C.U. having been revived without oxygen - without a heartbeat for ten minutes.  Revived but unresponsive.

I remember the phone call.  The drive to the hospital.  Praying before I walked in.

Both families gathered.  Friends.  Students.  Waiting.  Hoping.  Praying.

What happened?  How did he get here?

He was huffing propane in the back of a friend's car and stopped breathing.  They pulled over, called 911 and performed CPR.  The ambulance arrived. 

I sat with my nieces.  Talked with my nephews and sisters.  Listened to my brother-in-law give us updates.  I was asked if I wanted to see Aaron by myself.  I did.

I walked back to his area.  He was laying so still.  No movement at all.  Tubes breathing for him.  I talked quietly.  I placed my hand on his head and sensed nothing. 

Going home that night, I knew the week ahead was going to be long and emotional.  I asked God to help me serve my family well and to be a source of comfort.

The second day Aaron had his own room.  Droves of his friends were coming by and it was heartbreaking.  Comforting them with our own tears, warm eyes and hugs was all we could do.  They expected him to be fine.

More tomorrow.