It happens each and every winter: a child falls into an icy lake and nearly drowns. It happens once or every two years in our part of Minnesota.
We weren't suprised when the call came in. It was for a male, a child roughly six or seven years of age, who had fallen into a pond. By the time people realized that he was missing, it was too late; when they found him a few minutes later, the child was limp. Lifeless. He was not responding; worst of all, he was NOT breathing!
First responders acted first in trying to revive the little boy. Nothing. The ambulance crew then took over. Nothing. Time was quickly running out for the child before brain damage set in. The medical staff then took over. We tried everything possible to get his heart and respirations started again; but to no avail. Nothing. It had been over 15 minutes since the call came in to now, where he was safely within our ER unit. It didn't look at all good. He was as responsive as a wet dishrag: floppy, limp, blue in color. We were afraid that brain damage had already set in: lethal brain damage can set in after only 4-6 minutes if without oxygen.
The head doctor, a man of strong Christian faith, suggested that we pray for the child. I looked at him as if he were crazy, but he insisted. So right there in that ER room, at the resusciation table, he laid hands upon the little unconscious boy, and he had all of us pray for the child. Not even a minute later, once silent monitors beeped and hummed as the child came back to life; five minutes later, the little boy sighed and gasped for air and his eyes flew open. His eyes were the prettiest shade of cobalt blue I had ever seen.
His color improved rapidly and when asked to move his limbs, the boy responded, which sent hope surging through our veins. It was nothing short of a God-sent miracle!
God was right there in that ER. From a scene of despair and hopelessness, all of us started shouting praises to a God who brought a child at death's door back to life; tears flowed freely and we clapped each other on the back and congratulated one another for another job well done. After all, that was our job: to save lives.
Nobody was as happy as the parents who waited in the ER. When the doctor broke the news that their little boy had survived, the mother and father both burst out crying, but these were tears of joy and celebration. It was a late Christmas gift. It was a most wonderful feeling.
This happened two days ago, the day after Christmas. What a Christmas gift this family got: a chance to still spend time with their precious little boy!!
Merry Christmas, little man, and Merry Christmas to those who acted quickly to ensure swift medical attention as soon as possible!
