I'm going to break from the merely factual today to tell everyone about what happened last night and how it affected everyone there.
When I last saw Jessie on Monday night, she was awake, alert and sassy as can be. I wasn't able to make it to the hospital on Tuesday, but what I heard from Alex was that she was sedated for much of the day and was largely unresponsive after having her lungs suctioned to remove the junk that has been clogging up her airways and causing her pneumonia. That "there, but not there" feeling continued through yesterday afternoon when I arrived for the 5:00 visiting hour.
When Alex, Nick, Kim and I entered the room, we could see that she wasn't quite with us. Here eyes didn't really focus on anything in the room and she didn't respond to anything that we said. After a few short minutes, she began to cough up some of the phlegm, so we got one of the nurses to suction out her mouth. Then she started to vomit, which led to more nurses coming in. She began to distress, since she couldn't get enough oxygen, so they called for a respiratory team. We all left the room at that point, so that the medical staff could do their job. As doctors began pouring out of the woodwork, we heard that she had crashed and then we heard the word "flatline". The staff first called her parents, Norman and Sandra, into the ward, then they came back out and they had Alex and Nick go in to witness what was happening.
As Nick later told us, it isn't anything like you see on TV when they are trying to bring someone back to life. It's not just one shock from the defibrillator paddles, a big gasp and then they are back with you. It is a heart-wrenching process to watch them bring someone back from the brink of death. That's why the doctors want a family member present -- so that they can see what is required every time a patient crashes. Eventually, the team got her back to breathing again after they inserted a new, longer trachea tube. Nick told us that she fought with everything that she had to claw her way back -- that it would have been much easier to just succumb to the fading light.
The trauma surgeon then came out to explain everything that happened to the family and friends that were gathered in the waiting room. She was very honest about what did happen and why she thinks it happened. Near the end of her explanation, she came to the portion that nobody really wanted to hear. She said that Jessie was effectively in a coma and that there was no way to tell when or if she would wake up from it. She said that as her brain began to fire off again, that there might be jerky movement in her limbs, but that we shouldn't look to that as recovery of any sort. Obviously, that left the room with a rather grim outlook to settle on everyone's shoulders.
We all gathered around and prayed. Some prayed for God to heal Jessie completely as an example of His miraculous abilities. Others prayed for her to not have any brain damage as a result of this latest crash. I prayed for God's will to be done in her life, because I believe that His will is a perfect will and will result in what is best for everyone, including Jessie.
After a short time, the doctor allowed Norman, Sandra and Alex to go into the room to see her. The rest of us waited tensely in the hallway, hoping for the best, but just praying that it wouldn't be the worst. When they came out, all three of them had a certain gleam in their eyes. Norman told us that Jessie was moving her arms -- and not in the jerky fashion that the doctor had warned us about. She was moving her arms because she wanted to. We all went down to the cafeteria to wait for the 9:00 visiting hour with hope renewed.
As we all took our turn going in to see her at the next allotted time, each report was the same: "She's awake, she knows that we're there." When my turn came, I went into the room just hoping to see some sign of life from her. She blew past that level of expectation and just kept on going. Rather than the dull stare that I had seen mere hours before, her eyes danced a little at the sight of people she knew. She smiled for us when we asked her to and she tried to laugh as best as she could when we told her jokes. She moved her free arm with renewed strength as we stood there talking to her. At one point, she even blew a kiss at Alex. If there had been any doubt before, her fighting spirit washed it all away. I believe that all of us walked out of that room and that hospital last night with a greater appreciation for what God can do and just how strong that young lady in that hospital bed is.
I ask that all of you continue to pray for her, her family, her friends and her co-workers. We all need strength to continue to go through this each day. I say this to each of you, because I believe that it needs to be said. God is not done with Jessica Cooper yet. If it was her time to go, then there have been ample opportunities for God to take her to be with Him. She is a fighter with an indomitable spirit and I'm not going to be the one to put any limitations on her or on what God can do for her, with her or through her.
