Part one: The beginning

It's hard to determine where Ryan's story should begin. It's hard to look back and realize just how close I came to losing Ryan. Becoming a widow. Learning to raise my children as a single mom. That, throughout this entire ordeal, was my number one fear. I sometimes wish parts of it were a blur, but they aren't. They are perfectly stored in my memory. Strangely I am thankful. It's probably best to do this in parts. A 32 day stay in a hospital with those first few days being a complete rollercoaster will get lengthy. So, let's start with part one.

I am happy to say though, that by the grace of God Ryan is still with me and our children today.

Saturday, July 12, 2014 is a day that is just as important to me now as say my wedding anniversary, my children's birthday, and my husband's birthday. Ryan nearly lost his life on this day and it was the day my faith was strengthened.

It was any normal Friday.  Ryan came home from work, we went to a fundraiser, went to dinner with friends, came home, went to bed. Around 1:30 Ryan started throwing up and I didn't give it a second thought. I simply thought that his dinner didn't agree with him. He continued to throw up and when he didn't stop and then proceeded to dry heave I crawled out of bed seeing if he needed anything. This is when he started coughing very deeply, so deeply that he began coughing up a pink blood tinged mucus. I just thought it was from throwing up so hard and dry heaving so while worried, I was thinking it would stop. We tried laying back down a couple of times when the coughing continued and that's when I told Ryan I was calling mom to come sit with the babies and we were heading to the hospital.

We got to the Dardanelle hospital and there they did a chest x-ray and diagnosed Ryan with what they believed was a blood clot in the lung. The immediately said that we were heading to Baptist in Little Rock. I think this is when Ryan and I both realized the severity of the situation. He was taken to Baptist by ambulance and once he arrived we didn't see him for close to an hour. The three of us (me, Ryan's mom, and step-dad) were taken from the large emergency room waiting area to a private room where we were told the doctors would be with us shortly. My heart began to sink and my throat tightened making it hard to breathe. Honestly, I expected the worse, but as those doctors came in,  sat down and said, "He is a very, very sick man and we do not know what's wrong with him" my world was crushed. Doctors are supposed to know what wrong. They are supposed to deliver the answers and in this case they couldn't. They told us they would need to sedate him and put him on the ventilator in order to run some test and figure out what was wrong with him. They told us that we would be able to see him, but it needed to be quick because they needed to hurry and figure out as much as they could. I went back to see him and I saw it. I saw the fear in Ryan's eyes and I put on my brave face. Whether or not it was actually brave to him is beyond me, but I think it was at that moment that both of our fighting spirits kicked it. Ryan fighting for his life, me fighting for any and every prayer I could get out of someone. Ryan told me, "take care of our babies" and "I love you". I told him he was going to be fine, I loved him, and I would see him soon. It was the truth. No matter what happened, whether Ryan walked out of those doors of the hospital or he was greeting me in Heaven one day Ryan was going to be healed, loved, and we'd be reunited again someday. The hardest moment was kissing him, not knowing the outcome. I returned to the waiting room where the first thing I did was call my parents and update our closest friends. Then, I posted on our church's Facebook page asking for prayers. I knew Ryan needed prayers. Prayers from those that know us, prayers from those that don't. Soon after being in the waiting room a chaplain came by. The first prayer from someone who didn't know us. The first, but definitely not the last.

We sat for nearly two hours until we finally saw a doctor again. If you've never been in an emergency type situation, you must know that seeing the doctors turn a corner is the single most nauseating thing ever. You can't breath, your heart rate increases, and they can't get to you quick enough. They told us that Ryan was finally half way stable that they felt comfortable enough to move him to the Coronary Care Unit. Unbeknownst to us, this would be his home for the next 16 days.

One of the first things the doctors told us was this was going to be a rollercoaster. It was going to be a constant up and down.

They didn't know what was wrong with Ryan.

The doctors they had on board were the kidney dr, lung dr, heart dr, infectious disease dr, blood dr, and neurologist.

When they got Ryan in CCU and stable they came out and told us that we could go back and see Ryan. My husband, once full of so much life laid there completely motionless. If anyone could look dead, but still be living it was Ryan at that very moment. There was nothing there. Nothing. Little did I know that at that very moment literally there was nothing. No brain activity, just machines keeping his body working.

After we got to see him we were back in our little private room in the CCU waiting room. That would be my living quarters during Ryan's stay. This is when Dr. McCracken (lung) came in to talk to us, tell us what she believed, ask us questions, and the minute before she left she said, "we need a miracle and we need it now."