They took my husband from one device to another and x-rayed his entire body. During all this, I was clutching my rosary and trying to pray. They offered a new diagnosis every half hour: an ulcer, inflamed pancreas, infection, etc.
It was a usual, routine day. My husband was at work and I was taking care of things around the house. I wanted to cook a tasty supper and spend a pleasant evening with him. We had been married for a few months, and everything was going well for us. In two weeks, we were going to celebrate our first Easter together. I was a little bit worried about not working at this time, but I prayed for work, and thanked God for what I had: a loving husband, a cosy home and supportive in-laws. While I was preparing supper, I was starting to worry, since my husband wasn’t home yet, and he usually let me know if he was going to be late. I was just about to call him when my phone rang first. I recognised the voice of one of my husband’s work colleagues who told me that my husband had started feeling poorly, and they had taken him away in an ambulance. At first, I couldn’t grasp what I was hearing: my husband couldn’t speak for himself, he was having difficultybreathing, and they were taking him to the hospital. Three minutes later, I was running into the street to catch a taxi. I arrived at the hospital and was taken immediately to the room where a doctor and two nurses were attending him. My husband was pale, and a cold sweat was running down his cheeks. When he saw me, he tried to smile and whispered: “I’m sorry to worry you”. Every touch caused him immense pain. His hands were icy and his lips were purple. The doctor said it looked like a stomach ulcer, but she wasn’t sure what was causing the pain. They took my husband from one device to another and x-rayed his entire body. During all this, I was clutching my rosary and trying to pray. They offered a new diagnosis every half hour: an ulcer, inflamed pancreas, infection, etc. This was the best hospital, and that very morning before leaving for work my husband had been healthy and happy.
When they took him to the intensive care unit and connected him to the various devices, I felt like I was also losing my breath. Hours passed. I prayed my rosary and begged God for help. The morphine gave my husband a little relief. He tried to talk to me and smile. Just before midnight, the doctor asked: “Do you think you’d be able to call your husband’s parents? Things don’t look good.” That meant he was dying. And they didn’t even know why. They had decided to attempt surgery, recognising the possibility for the worst case scenario. I dialled my in-laws. I tried to stay calm, but I couldn’t manage it: “Dad, you have to come to the hospital!” I managed to get out with a sobbing voice. When they took my husband to the operating room, he squeezed my hand with his icy fingers and whispered: “Forgive me, I love you a lot. Pray for me!”
I remembered so well what Jesus had said to St Faustina, that everyone who says this prayer with great trust would be heard!
I was alone in the waiting room for the families of intensive care patients. I knelt down and started praying the Chaplet of Divine Mercy. I prayed to Jesus with all my heart and with great trust. I remembered so well what Jesus had said to St Faustina, that everyone who says this prayer with great trust would be heard! It seemed like hours were passing. Finally, one of the doctors came into the room and told me that the cause of my husband’s bleeding was a ruptured spleen. My husband had lost four litres of blood, and his life was still in danger.
After a while, my in-laws arrived. “Is he still alive?” my mother- in-law asked as soon as she stepped through the door. We fell into each other’s arms and prayed together for my husband and their son, as well as for the team of doctors and nurses in the operating room. After two-and-a-half hours of operating, the surgeon came in and said: “The patient is alive, but we had to remove his spleen. His condition is stable.”
On Easter Eve, my husband returned home. Our first Easter together was the happiest Easter of our lives. I believe that thanks to praying the Chaplet of Divine Mercy our hearts were opened to receive Jesus’ healing love, and my husband’s life was spared.