By guest blogger Jennifer Fischer (my lovely wife)

On Sunday, September 19, 2022 at approximately 8:00 pm our family experienced the scariest, most life-changing series of events we’ve ever endured.  It started with me having to call 9-1-1 and honestly, hasn’t completely ended to date.

The previous Sunday Kevin experienced common cold symptoms.  By that Thursday he was way past “cold” and tested positive for Covid.  We thought we could beat it with home remedies but we were wrong.  Things went downhill rapidly and Sunday was, to put it mildly, absolutely awful. 

He was somewhat incoherent, glassy-eyed, dehydrated (though I didn’t realize how severely at that time) and ashen, so there really was no other option.  When I told him I was calling he didn’t argue at all which was a huge signal that I made the right decision.

Looking back to that night, I now know that our choice to go to Ascension here in Franklin was no accident.  We had our choice of any hospital, and for what seemed to be no particular reason at the time Kevin asked for Ascension.  How were we to know that every hallway and common area would be adorned with words of faith?  Admittedly I don’t remember the scripture source but I DO remember reading them and feeling an additional layer of comfort.  Our choice was meant to be based on our family’s deep faith.

He was extremely, severely, critically ill.  Covid was just the start.  Bilateral pneumonia, septic shock and a slew of other life-threatening diagnoses meant our guy was SICK.  But we were blessed beyond comprehension…  We were blessed with an amazing care team.  We were blessed with Kevin’s own interminable spirit and German-Irish stubbornness.  We were blessed with a circle who prayed for us.

The next day began my requests of prayer from literally everyone we knew.  Friends, family, former and current coworkers, Facebook friends, Kyla’s dance family… everyone was asked to pray for Kevin.  Kyla and I went to noon mass, seeking solace in our beautiful St. Anthony church on the south side of Milwaukee.  We arrived early to pray before the start of mass.  Just a couple minutes before it was to begin, my phone rang.

I was afraid, of course, to answer.  I jumped out of the pew, Kyla right behind me.  In the vestibule I managed to squeak a weak “Hello?” and was greeted with the most incredible sound ever: my husband’s voice.  It was heart-warming AND heart-wrenching at the same time.  We immediately stepped outside so that we could put him on speaker, and talked as long as he could tolerate.  It wasn’t nearly long enough for any of us.

Back inside, mass was being offered in his name and we lit candles afterwards.  The praying didn’t stop.  In fact it only increased.  Our initial requests via texts, calls and Facebook posts certainly had a ripple effect.  Several people submitted Kevin’s name to their prayer groups.  Another dear priest friend said his own private mass for Kevin.  The CATHOLIC prayers were just the beginning.  We had many other Christian faiths praying for us as well…  Baptist, Lutheran, an out-of-state Pentecostal family of a dear friend, and probably others I’m not even aware of.  But the appeals didn’t end with Christian believers. 

Kyla has become very close with a Library and Technology Aide at Forest Park Middle School. She is a lovely lady and I always enjoy hearing Kyla’s stories about her and her “bestie” in the library.  Kyla’s “bestie” is Muslim.  When she shared what was happening to her daddy, she was assured that Kevin would be added to her faith’s petitions as well.  I can’t begin to tell you what that meant to our family.

Kevin was admitted Sunday September 19^th.  The prayers for him and his care team began immediately and increased exponentially.  He never suffered a setback.  He only consistently improved under the multi-faceted care team of pulmonologists, cardiologists, infectious disease specialists, therapists, and dedicated support staff. Every single day was a series of positive reports and progress.  His determination was inspirational and his care team fell in love with his attitude.

It took eleven arduous, agonizing, horrific and constantly isolated days to get him home.  It was eleven prayer-filled days that I am wholeheartedly convinced are the reason for his amazing outcome.  Every day when we talked, I would tell him about the prayer comments that I received from our circle.  I kept reminding him that prayers were constantly being said for him and I know that hearing that made a very positive impact on his recovery process.  I am not underestimating his dedicated, expert care team.  But they were prayed for too.  There is absolutely NOTHING that will ever change my mind that our family’s faith, and the faith of our circle, is the reason for his recovery that is truly nothing short of miraculous.  Clearly I’m not the only one who believes in the power of prayer.