Communication

Let me say that some of these blogs are out of order. I am writing what comes to the surfaces and letting more rise as it will. This event took place the night before Sara died.

The nurses and doctors told me that Sara needed to have a high oxygen saturation rate to survive. Her sats were in the 40s and 50s She needed to be in the 80s and 90s. I had this on my mind as I settled into the rocking chair beside Sara. I could look up and see the monitor. I am a realistic person, but this was my daughter. I had always heard that some one can hear you if you talk to them while they are unconscious. So sitting there, I started to talk to Sara. I told her about the need to improve her o2 sats. I told her what it was right at that moment, and asked her to work on increasing that number. To my surprise the figure changed. Maybe, just Maybe! I kept talking to her encouraging her and asking her to raise the value. One digit at a time the values grew and grew. I felt like a cheerleader. I did not care what it looked like, or who watched. Sara's o2 sats were improving. The whole night I sat there and talked to her, and kept at it. By the time the first shift arrived, her sats were at 69, just under the basic needed level. I was exhausted but hopeful. Maybe we had turned the corner.

There are those who have heard this account, and became naysayers. She was not old enough to even understand English or she could not have controlled her o2 sats. I know what I saw, and what I did. I can't explain it other than there is a bond between parent and child that transcends the physical world. A soul connection of it were. Sara and I worked together for a night. One precious 8 hours spent with my daughter. I will never forget that night.