Hello again! This is the conclusion to the epic tale that is Molly Conway. Enjoy.
Recovery is where the real problem started. After surgery, my body didn’t want to take the antibiotics. As soon as I would start to feel better and could get out of the hospital bed on my own, my surgeon would have to go back in and clean out the area (with me fully conscious, mind you). This happened 3 times before they tried to send me home. Once at home, I had a rough time. I was in pain, I was missing my senior year of high school, and I could barely move from my bed. On top of all of that, I had this heinous pinching feeling just under my left collar bone. I couldn’t lay down and breathe at the same time. My mom took me to the MEA clinic in Madison, and an X-ray showed I had developed what they thought was pneumonia. Again I said to myself, I can handle this, and refused pain pills from the doctor.
It took 15 minutes for me to change my mind and my mom called the clinic for some medication to help me out. The doctor took the call back as a sign, and told my mom I had 3/6 symptoms for a pulmonary embolism (a blood clot in the lung, often confused with pneumonia in X-rays) and he wouldn’t feel right if he didn’t have me checked out. So I rode back up to the hospital, and the CT scan confirmed our fears. Dr. May ordered us to put on our emergency flashers and get down to Baptist immediately, they would have a bed and staff waiting for me. He told us that, had I waited much longer to go to the clinic, I would have been dead. And for the first time I thought, maybe I can’t handle this on my own. Back in the hospital, I recieved blood thinner shots and bad food 3 times daily. My surgeon came back to check on me, and, surprise, the infection had come back. He told me that he wasn’t sure why it kept reappearing, and he would hold me for observaton until he was sure it was all gone, however long it took. When the word “months” came into the conversation, I knew it was real.
That was my breaking point. I knew I couldn’t do it on my own anymore. I had been tougher than tough for years now, and it was time I let someone else take control. I grabbed the Bible that was in the bedside table and prayed all night, even though I wasn’t sure how to do it . I didn’t sleep at all, I just talked to Jesus. I told Him, Okay. You have proven that You want me. You can have me. Take my life, take it all. As the night went on, I had an overwhelming belief that someone was taking care of the situation, taking care of me. I promised to my life to the Savior on October 23rd, 2009.I knew there was a reason I was still alive, there had been plenty of chances for me to go. I felt I wasn’t in control anymore. I gave ALL of me to Him that night, and guess what? My body began to heal.
The next morning, the doctor made his rounds and was astounded to see my body suddenly reacting beautifully to the antibiotics. There was zero infection, and the pain from the pulmonary embolism had subsided. He kept me for one more night to make sure it wasn’t a fluke. I prayed some more and thanked the Lord for my health, and was released for good the next morning. A month later I was baptized.
So there it is, my story. The story of how I became a stronger person through the healing power and the love of our God. It was the best decision I’ve ever made with my life. If there is anything you can take away from my experience, it is that He will always give you hope. His love is greater than any disease, any illness, and any obstacle. Your faith in Him will be rewarded.
I wear this bracelet every day as a reminder that God’s plan for me is bigger than my own. His love is greater than I could ever imagine, and my love for Him continues to grow as I see miracles around me every day.