Discovering the power of prayer while traveling through the medical maze.
by Carolyn Andersen
My husband, Sam, and I had finished eating breakfast, but our daughter, Stacia, was still eating. That February morning started normally, but then everything changed.
As I cleared dishes from the table, I turned to see Stacia, our fourteen-month-old, and knew instantly something was wrong. Her face was a pale shade of blue, and she leaned to the left against the side of her highchair.
Seizure
“She’s choking!” I yelled. “Get her out of the highchair!”
I steadied Stacia while Sam removed her. Holding her nearly upside down, I patted her on the back to dislodge any food. Then I swept out the remaining food in her mouth with my finger. She bit my finger hard enough to draw blood.
It was then I realized Stacia was having a seizure. She shook all over, then went limp. I stood with her little body pressed against mine until the episode ended.
Running in circles
In my job at a home for the disabled, I worked with clients who experienced seizures, so I remained calm during Stacia’s. But a sick feeling hit in the pit of my stomach.
En route to our doctor in Hodrege, Nebraska, fifteen miles away, I noticed Stacia had a temperature. The doctor sent us to a hospital in Kearney, twenty miles north of where we lived. Because Sam had to work, I dropped him off at home. I felt as though I were running in circles, trying to outrun a cloud of calamity to keep my baby safe.
Fear and questions
I struggled with fear. “Father,” I prayed, “please don’t let this be something serious. Don’t let Stacia have a seizure while I am driving. I don’t know what to do if she does.”
Then I thought about Stacia turning blue. Was she without oxygen long enough to cause disabilities? What caused the seizures? Was it because she was choking? Why didn’t we pay more attention while she was eating? How could I have missed her temperature?
I thought about the clients I had worked with. Some had developed severe physical and mental disabilities due to brain damage from their seizures. I didn’t want Stacia to end up like some of those people, unable to do the simplest tasks.
Medical tests
After arriving at the hospital, I ran into the emergency room, clutching Stacia in my arms.
She was put through every test imaginable. The doctors were concerned about spinal meningitis, so they did a spinal tap. My options were to be in the room and hold her down or wait outside so I could be the one to comfort her after it was all over.
I chose to wait in the hall. I didn’t think I could hold her down or watch them stick a needle in her spine. I paced. I heard her screams and wanted to break down the door and rescue my little girl. “Oh Father, don’t let her have spinal meningitis. What would that even mean? Help me to stay in control. Help me to know what to do, to protect her.”
Prayers
The next couple days included an EEG, MRI, X-rays, blood work, and other tests. Because of her age, Stacia was sedated for the MRI.
She looked so small and helpless in the arms of the MRI technician as he carried her from her room to the MRI lab. Her blond hair hung down and swayed as he walked.
As I followed them, I prayed again. “Father, please don’t let there be any brain tumors. That would be so terrible. She would be in so much danger.”
Disturbing diagnosis
The doctor decided a virus had raised Stacia’s temperature and that the seizures were probably fever seizures. She was released after two long days of medical tests.
I was sent home with instructions on keeping the fever down and treating the symptoms of the virus, but with no real answers for what caused the seizures.
Because there was no family history of them, the doctor didn’t think Stacia needed medication. We were to watch and wait to see if more seizures occurred. With Sam and I both on edge, we continued to pray.
Medications and adjustments
Two months later, Stacia had two more seizures and was put on medication. We were referred to a pediatric neurologist at the medical center in Omaha.
Her annual exams included an EEG to check for seizure activity. Each year spikes on the readout indicated seizures had occurred, so Stacia continued on her medication.
Questioning God
During this time, I asked God, “Why?” and complained about the unfairness of it all. Stacia’s medication required monitoring blood levels and blood draws every month.
I struggled taking her to the doctor, holding her still on my lap, and watching the needle go into her little arm. I would remind God about all the miracles Jesus performed and ask why Stacia was not healed. Why did she have to endure the blood draws?
Seizure recurrence
Once Stacia started on medication, she was seizure-free. But in fifth grade she began having petit mal seizures. Her eyes rolled up for just a fraction of a second. We would not have noticed if it weren’t for a classmate who got angry at Stacia because she was rolling her eyes — supposedly in response to what another girl had said.
Once her teacher told us about this, we also caught the eye movements that indicated seizures. Stacia was put on a different medication that controlled even the petit mal seizures.
Earnest prayer
When Stacia was thirteen, I began earnestly praying for her healing. I knew about the hassles of losing a driver’s license because of seizures. I wanted our daughter to drive when she turned sixteen so she could be a typical teen. I reminded God what Isaiah 53:5 says about His Son: “By his wounds we are healed” (NIV).
So I prayed again. “Father, please heal Stacia.”
EEG prep
Before each yearly check-up, we had to keep Stacia awake most of the night so she would be sleepy when the technicians did the test. Seizures are more apt to occur when the person is tired.
Stacia and Sam stayed up late the night before her annual EEG. I got up early to keep her awake in the morning.
Clean test
After the EEG, the doctor entered the examination room, trailed by two staff members. He began with “I don’t know why, but Stacia’s EEG doesn’t show any seizure activity.” He then gave us directions for taking Stacia off the seizure medication, but said he couldn’t predict if she would ever have seizures again.
None of us said much in the examination room — perhaps out of shock. On the trip home, Stacia and Sam talked about praying when they were up late. They had prayed for a clean EEG.
I was ecstatic! I knew why the EEG was clean: God had healed our daughter! I saw firsthand that He hears the cries of His children in their persistent prayers and that, despite doubts and fears, He brings healing in His way and time.
Carolyn Andersen wrote for her local newspaper as a regional correspondent for eleven years. She has also published devotions in the last few years. Since retiring, Carolyn has volunteered at her church and several non-profits and community ministries. She lives in Kearney, NE.