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“I didn’t want a dog, because our lives were kind of in flux then,” Jeff says. “We were renting the house and we just didn’t need a dog.”
But a few weeks before Christmas, opportunity rang.
“I received a phone call from a friend of mine who had spotted some yellow Labs,” says Nancy. “She said, ‘Nancy, these dogs are just beautiful. You have to come down here right now. The man who’s selling them is just here for a minute, he’s traveling. If you don’t come now, you’re going to miss your opportunity.’”
Nancy decided that she wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass her by, and she took off to meet her friend without telling Jeff where she was headed.
“I got in the car and drove to the park,” says Nancy, “and as I drove up, I saw these beautiful puppies. They were so cute, they were the most darling yellow Labs. They were healthy, and their tails were wagging, and they were all running around in a little bunch. I knew that I wasn’t going to leave without a puppy.
“And at this point I didn’t know if I wanted a boy or a girl,” says Nancy, but she bonded instantly with one of the puppies. “When I held her, I knew she was the one I was going to take home.”
“So anyway, she showed up with this puppy, and I was not happy about it at all,” recalls Jeff. “I wanted her to take it back.”
“Which I couldn’t do, because the owner of the dogs had already left,” counters Nancy. “So that worked out really well.”
It didn’t take long for the puppy to soften Jeff’s hard heart.
“I mean, puppies, you know, you fall in love with a puppy almost immediately, so it worked out pretty good that way,” admits Jeff.
Nancy named the pup Mia. And Mia grew to become a true member of the family.
“Mia’s kind of like Nancy,” says Jeff. “She likes to have fun, she likes to be with people. She’s just a nice dog, always friendly, ready to cuddle up or be scratched behind the ear or whatever.”
When Mia was about fourteen months old, Nancy started to feel run-down, and her dog’s behavior began to change.
“With my life so hectic at that time, I was feeling a little tired. I was just getting worn out. I was physically tired. I knew if I didn’t start taking a rest during the day I couldn’t continue,” says Nancy. “When I would lay on the couch, Mia would usually lay next to me, and it would be pretty uneventful. But during this particular time when I was starting to feel really tired, Mia would come up and lay her nose on my chest and start sniffing. And at the time I didn’t think anything of it. I thought maybe she was smelling meat or some kind of food from the Java Joint that I might have had still on my shirt,” explains Nancy.
“This proceeded again. She came back to me a couple of days later, and did the same sniffing and licking in the same spot. I was so tired and I was so bothered by the fact that she was doing this, that I actually got mad and put her outside,” Nancy admits.
And she kept her outside the next day as well, but eventually Mia snuck back into the house.
“My daughter had come home from school,” says Nancy, “and after she opened the door, Mia came barreling into the house. She dove into my chest, with her nose again in the area she had been sniffing and licking before. I started to rub it with my hand, because it did cause a great deal of pain.
“And at that instant, I felt the lump.”
“Despite having had a mammogram before that was negative, indeed there was a lump of tissue there that was new and different from the previous exams,” reveals Nancy’s physician, Dr. Mark Phelps. “Unfortunately, the lump did have the little specks of calcium that make us real suspicious.”
Dr. Phelps recommended further testing to determine whether the lump was malignant.
“It was very scary,” recalls Nancy. “I never thought I would get cancer. I always thought everybody else got cancer, and I lived a pretty healthy lifestyle. It was a shock.”
“The diagnosis was, unfortunately, a new breast cancer called ductal cancer,” says Dr. Phelps. “It’s one that can be extremely dangerous, that spreads quickly, and the timing is critical. Gotten early, these are the cancers you can cure, but just a little too late and they spread.”
“When the doctor called me with the results,” says Nancy, “the first thing that I thought was, I was going to lose my family, my children. I wouldn’t get to see them grow. Other than the fact that you think you’re going to die, you have to think about the things you haven’t done yet. And you know tomorrow is not promised to anyone. I had that feeling in an instant.”
Nancy was immediately scheduled for a partial mastectomy and the removal of nearby lymph nodes where the cancer might have spread.
“My fear was for any suffering Nancy might have to endure,” says Jeff. “I gave her a kiss for good luck, and I was just trying to keep her positive. But, you know, there’s always that thought in the back of your mind that you can’t help but think: Your wife is going to die.”
As Jeff waited, the surgeons removed twenty-six lymph nodes from below Nancy’s arm.
“All of the lymph nodes were negative for any spread. The cancer was confined just to the small area,” says Dr. Phelps. “She was able to remove the cancer and preserve her breasts, and go through the treatment with a very high likelihood of complete cure.”
“If this cancer hadn’t been detected at that time, my doctor feels that it could have gotten a lot worse. He said the chance of it spreading would’ve increased,” reveals Nancy. “Had Mia not discovered it at that time, my chances for survival would have been greatly reduced.”
“The fact that the dog was able to do this is just remarkable,” says Dr. Phelps. “I’ve heard little bits and hints. You hear them from cancer specialists now and again ’cause they’ll hear the stories. But I never thought I would see a case like that. Who would ever think?”
“I think the miracle here,” says Jeff, “was that Mia was determined to let Nancy know that there was something going on there that wasn’t right, and she kept at it until Nancy realized it.”
To show Mia how much they appreciate the miracle she gave them, Nancy and Jeff reward her each morning with a special treat.
“My husband makes breakfast for the kids in the morning, and Mia waits anxiously every day for her pancake,” says Nancy. “And she’s just thrilled to be spoiled like that. She’s the little princess of the house now.”
And Jeff realizes how close he came to not allowing her to be part of their family.
“I thought about the fact that I never wanted the dog to begin with, and what an amazing thing it was that we got her,” Jeff remarks. “I mean, I didn’t want it, and Nancy kind of snuck down there and bought this dog behind my back, and then it turns out to be a savior dog, you know. So it was a tremendous thing.”
“For Mia to find this cancer, and just five months after I had a negative breast exam, is a miracle. It’s nothing less than a miracle to me,” declares Nancy. “If Mia could understand words, I would tell her thank you. Thank you for alerting me to something that could have taken my life, something that could have taken me away from my children, my husband, the things I love most.
“I would tell her that she is my miracle, and there is a reason that I have her, and that I love her.”
REMARKABLE RESCUES I (#ulink_afb59c0f-d113-57f2-9ace-582cb99c3b63)
SECOND CHANCE ANGEL (#ulink_221ba976-4d11-595a-9a71-61920fdf85fb)
1999 was a bad year for Rob Gingery of Memphis, Tennessee. Recently divorced, and separated from his son, Rob channeled his depression into motorcycles and living on the edge.
“He was at the point in his life where he didn’t care anymore. He’d party all the time, and then he’d want to know where the next party was,” remembers his girlfriend Cale Smith. “He was always cutting up on his motorcycle—the faster, the better.”
And then one afternoon in May, Rob and Cale were leaving a restaurant along with Rob’s close friend, Randy Brewer.
“Rob and I were going to ride our bikes over to his house. Cale was riding with another friend of ours in their car,” explains Randy.
After the couple said their good-byes, Randy and Rob sped out of the parking lot. As they headed back to Rob’s house, the two friends played a dangerous cat-and-mouse game, each trying to outrace the other at speeds of up to a hundred miles per hour.
Randy recalls, “We were hot-rodding back and forth, you know, on the main streets. When we got in the neighborhood, we turned the corner and Rob just shot off. I wasn’t really familiar with all the streets, so I drove at kind of a slower pace.”
Meanwhile, Cale and her friend Kat had taken a different route to Rob’s house.
“We went kind of the back road, and as we got there I noticed that his motorcycle wasn’t there. I looked at Kat and I said, ‘He’s down.’ She told me not to jump to conclusions, but I knew he was down, I could feel it.”
The two women sped off in search of Rob and Randy to make sure they were all right, but they didn’t have to travel far to discover that Cale’s horrible premonition had come true.
“When we turned the corner, there he was. The motorcycle was flipped upside down, and pipes were sticking out. It was a mess. Rob was lying on the curb with blood all over him.”
“Cale was hysterical,” remembers Randy. “She was crying, hanging over him, trying to see if he was alive.”
“The paramedics came at about the same time, and they jumped out and pulled me away from him,” says Cale. “We didn’t know if he had a broken neck—we didn’t know anything. When the paramedics finally got him on the gurney, Rob kept saying, ‘Where’s Cale? Where’s Cale?’ He looked at me and gestured for me to give him a kiss, so I leaned down and gave him one, and then he shut his eyes. I thought he’d died. I really thought that was it.”
Rob was still alive, but badly injured. The paramedics rushed him to the Regional Medical Center in Memphis. His injuries were extensive, including four skull fractures, a broken hand, and a broken leg. But it was his behavior that had Dr. Preston Miller most concerned.
“It’s pretty typical for folks who have a significant head injury to be combative or confused or a little bit out of it,” Dr. Miller explains, “so he went from our shock trauma room to the CAT-scan room, where he had a CAT scan of his brain.”
The CAT scan revealed that Rob had received a traumatic head injury. A small blood clot had formed in his brain.
“Those sometimes stay the same and sometimes get worse,” says Dr. Miller. “There’s no way of knowing. If they stay the same, it’s great, but if they enlarge, it either leads to serious brain damage or death.”
Cale was there when they did another CAT scan early the next day. “By about 7:00 in the morning, the blood clot had tripled in size. So the doctors rushed in and started telling us that they needed to do emergency surgery.”
Rob was rushed to an operating room where neurosurgeons spent the next several hours opening his skull and removing the blood clot from his brain. When they finished, there was nothing left to do but wait and pray that Rob would regain consciousness.
Meanwhile, Cale struggled to deal with the grim possibilities. “The doctors came out and said he could be a vegetable. I thought about what I would do if he did die. I cried more than anybody knew. Not only was I going to lose the person I was with, but Rob’s also my best friend. I never gave up hope on him, though. We prayed, and we prayed, and we prayed.”
Miraculously, two and a half hours after the surgery, Cale’s prayers were answered.
Rob remembers, “I wake up, and I’m in a room by myself. I’ve got hoses and IVs hanging off me, and I don’t have a clue as to where I’m at. I don’t remember having a wreck. Then the nurse walks in and tells me to be still, and all I can say is ‘What am I doing here?’”
“He got better like overnight,” Cale marvels. “I mean, he had brain surgery on Monday and was at home in bed by Friday. It was totally miraculous that he recovered the way he did.”
But as astounding as his physical recovery was, it was nothing compared to the life-altering change that had taken place in Rob’s attitude.
“I had a whole new perception, a whole new feeling inside. I felt clean. This wreck was the best bad thing that ever happened to me because it was a reality check. It sobered me up, straightened me up.”
But there was still one nagging question in his mind.
“When you hear about a child that dies in a car wreck or about anyone that passes away, you wonder why a person like me was saved. You wonder, Why am I here? Was it just an accident that I lived?”
Rob underwent a remarkable transformation. With a newfound sense of purpose, Rob channeled his energy from motorcycles and parties to starting his own business as an electrical contractor.
Rob said, “I believe that prior to the wreck I would not have been able to handle the business. I would like to say I’m on my way back up and I thank God every day.”
But Rob still wondered why he of all people would be given a second chance at life, and then, almost a year to the day after his accident, Rob was driving past the same intersection when he received the answer to his question.
“I was heading back to the office in a dead run—you know, in a hurry. I come up, and there’s a car wreck right in front of me,” recalls Rob. “I mean, two trucks hit each other right in front of me. I was the first one on the scene.”
Rob ran to the nearest vehicle while calling 911 on his cell phone. Meanwhile, inside the other vehicle, Vicky O’Briant was just beginning to regain consciousness.
Vicky remembers, “I didn’t know anything about how we had flipped over or anything. I just knew that I was upside down, and I really couldn’t get a grasp on where I actually was.”
When Rob was certain the first driver was okay, he turned his attention to Vicky’s truck.
“With truck damage as bad as that, you don’t know what you’re fixing to find. You’re praying that a cop might show up, because I don’t want to do it. I managed to get the driver of the vehicle to the curb. I sat her down on the grass, and the little boy sat down right beside her.”
“That’s when I started screaming about my daughter, Camille,” says Vicky, “that my daughter was hurt very badly.”
Rob rushed back to the vehicle. “I look in, and there is a little girl, upside down, unconscious, and just hanging limp with the seat belt around her neck. Her lips and skin were exactly the same color—she was one solid color blue.”
Worse still, the truck was leaking fluid and the engine was still running. Rob knew that if he didn’t act quickly, the truck would catch fire or explode.
“There was no room inside the truck. It was crushed and I couldn’t get the seat belt unbuckled. At this point, I’m now praying, ‘Please don’t let this truck blow up.’ I’m throwing a double prayer up to God—‘Please don’t let this baby die, whatever you do, please don’t let this baby die. And please don’t let the truck blow up.’ Luckily, I had a small Leatherman pocketknife on me and I was able to use that to cut the seat belt.”
Rob quickly cut the young girl free. But she remained unconscious.
“I had this little child lying in front of me. And I really didn’t want to move her because I thought she might have some internal injuries. So I decided I would stay inside the truck with her and pray that an ambulance or somebody would show up.”
Vicky was beside herself. “I didn’t know anything about what was going on—if my daughter was okay. And I was so scared that I was just screaming. I didn’t know how to help her. I just knew that somebody was in there helping my daughter.”
After ten terrifying minutes, paramedics finally arrived. Luckily, the truck never caught on fire, and the paramedics were able to get Camille out. With the situation finally under control, Rob left the scene without a word. Vicky and her children were taken to a local hospital. Miraculously, no one had suffered any serious injuries, including her daughter, Camille.
“The doctors told me that if someone hadn’t cut her out of that seat belt, she would have suffocated,” says Vicky. “There was no way that she probably would have made it.”
But Vicky had no way of thanking the heroic stranger that had saved their lives that day … until she stumbled upon a clue to his identity.
“A few days later we decided we were going to clean the truck and get our personal possessions out. We looked in the backseat and there was a Leatherman knife that we’d never seen before, and I said, ‘This must be the knife that cut my daughter out of her seat belt.’ So I turned it over and there was a man’s name on it. When I got home, I looked in the phone book and the man’s name was right there. It was the only Rob Gingery that there was.”
Rob was working at home when the telephone rang. Little did he know, it was Vicky O’Briant.
“And she said, ‘Were you at the scene of an accident?’ and I said, ‘Yes.’ Then she said, ‘I’ve got something that belongs to you. We found your knife in the truck.’”
Vicky recalls, “I gave him my name, and I said, ‘Well, I believe you’re the man who saved my daughter.’ And he couldn’t believe that she had made it, and that he had been a part of saving her life. It was a miracle to him, and he couldn’t wait to meet us.”
But it was Vicky who was truly in disbelief when she learned about Rob’s motorcycle wreck at that same intersection just one year before.
“I couldn’t believe that he happened upon our accident at the same site where he had his. I felt like his survival was such a miracle and that God let him live for a reason, and that reason was to help my daughter and save my daughter’s life. He says he’s not a hero, but I believe he’s my hero, and he’s my daughter’s hero.”
Little Camille agrees. “I think it’s a miracle because he saved us and if he wouldn’t have been there, I would have died.”
Today, Rob is a close friend to Vicky and her family, and while it took a year and two near-tragedies to bring them together, the experience they share taught them all the lesson of a lifetime.
“I don’t go to church every Sunday,” says Vicky. “But I do pray to God every day, and thank Him for saving us and saving Rob a year ago.”
“Prior to my wreck, I took the blessings I’ve had in life for granted,” concludes Rob. “I don’t do that anymore. The lessons I’ve had in the last eighteen months have taught me to look at things differently. Even when they seem their worst, look around, because it could be worse. Every day, I take time to say, ‘Thank you, God, thank you for what I’ve got.’”
LADY IN THE LAKE (#ulink_4be1b7c0-c102-569b-be4e-b3976bb03f23)
Ever since he was a young boy, Paul Lessard’s nightmare was always the same.
“I’m in a car, and the car hurtles through the air, and then hits the water. And the water starts coming into the car and we start submerging. And I can feel the water moving up my legs, up to my waist, up to my chest. These dreams began when I was eleven years old, and literally continued three—four times a year, all the way up until I was in my thirties,” says Paul.
His wife, Jayne, a psychologist, was concerned as well, often waking in the night when he had a nightmare to ask, “Honey, are you okay? Did you have another one of those drowning dreams? Baby, I don’t know what’s causing them.” Frustrated, Jayne attempted to help Paul understand his dream, but although they’d “talk through it and stuff, it didn’t ever feel like there was a real resolution to why he was having it or what was going on—and it would keep recurring.”
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