At the age of thirteen, I was fighting for my life. I remember waking up one morning not being able to eat, speak or walk. I remember that morning crawling to use the restroom, I never made it and I ended up going on myself. I didn't understand what was going on with my body, but I knew it wasn’t good. I was shaking and shivering because I felt so cold. I tried standing up and ended up falling flat on my face. My body felt like it was on fire and I screamed for help! My aunt ran up to me and told me she was taking me to the hospital. She took me to Lady of Lourdes hospital and I ended up being rushed from there to CHOP in Philadelphia. I had a fever of 104° and my body began to shut down. I remember the doctors putting me in a room and applying ice all over my body to try and bring down my temperature. By this time I was so scared not knowing what was happening to me and why. At this moment, I started feeling like I was going to die. It was extremely hard for me to even breathe. The doctors wanted to check for meningitis and in order to do so, they needed to place a large needle in my lower back, which is called a spinal tab test. The doctors had to remove a small amount of the cerebrospinal fluid around the spinal cord. They had no time to numb the area because, at this moment, every second counted. The fluid was taken to a lab and examined microscopically to determine whether I had meningitis or not. They treated me as if I had meningitis, but the test results came back negative. They did the spinal test on me multiple times, amongst other tests. I remember the doctors telling my mother they didn't know what was going on with my body and they didn't have any diagnosis at the time. Every day was a fight with my body. I had no control over my body at all. I couldn’t eat, drink, or even shower. I went weeks without eating, I was highly medicated and I had pain medication around the clock. When I felt that I needed it, all I had to do was press a button from a machine and morphine was injected into my veins. I saw multiple doctors and still had no answer. I remember one morning the doctors wanted to do an MRI test on me. I remember going into the machine to get scanned, but I don't remember coming out, that’s when I went into a full-blown coma. My body completely shut down and I was in a vegetative state for a whole month. I was told that I had seizures daily. Every major organ in my body was inflamed and shutting down on me. I was then transferred to the intensive care unit. The doctors told my mother that my brain was enlarged and that I didn’t have much time here on earth. She was afraid that I was going to die. The majority of the time my mother was told by the doctors that she might have to take me home in a vegetative state. They didn't expect me to come out of the coma, but my mother never gave up on me. She had Pastors come and pray over me. She also denied care from the doctors when they wanted to open up my skull and do a biopsy of my brain.
My mother’s faith was strong! She had faith that the Lord would heal me and bring me out! Our father is always faithful! After dealing with so much of the chaos, one morning, I finally woke up from the coma! I had everyone over my bed asking me multiple questions and the first words I asked were, "When are the Pastors coming to pray for me? And can I take a shower?" I’m literally in tears writing this because my God is my healer and my deliverer. There’s no one like our God! I tried getting up from the hospital bed, but I fell flat on my face again, this time I couldn’t feel my legs. After running some tests the doctors told my mother there are some delays in body and I will have to learn how to walk, talk, and feed myself again. After hearing this, I was determined to get myself back together. I had come this far and I knew I couldn't give up. I had physical therapy and speech classes every day. I ended up wanting to hide from those classes because I became frustrated. I would kick, scream, and cry out of frustration because my mind knew I could walk and talk, but my body wouldn’t do or say what my mind wanted it to do. As time passed, my body began to get stronger and the doctors still didn't have any answers as to what, why, or how I got sick and what caused my body to shut down. I even heard one doctor tell my mother that it was a miracle that I was alive. I am so thankful that the Lord never left my side through it all. So, while I continued to ask God to heal me, I also thank Him for the miracles He's working through my illnesses. In the most unlikely and unexpected ways, He has been carving out a unique ministry for me while increasing my joy in Him and in others and working all things together for my good. My life doesn't look anything like how I had planned it, but it's beautiful this way. I actually believe it’s better this way. It's better that I wasn't healed quickly as we all wanted. It's better that I can't praise a doctor or medicine for my healing. It's better that I need God so desperately. Thank you Lord! “For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.” Jeremiah 29:11 NLT