Message from Heaven

Storm is coming

In the days that followed, life began to unfold quite normally. Mom and sister got out of the hospital, dad went back to work, and me and my sister to our standard school duties. After the birth went well, and after mom and sister came home alive and well, instead of breathing a sigh of relief and indulging in family joy, some tension inside me grew and again that ugly feeling that something was going to happen, I was terrified from day to day. I would wake up in the middle of the night covered in sweat, not knowing what was happening to me, but sensing something bad. And then one day in the third month, I woke up with a stomach up to my teeth. It was Saturday, March 16, 2013. One very ordinary Saturday will forever change my life and the life of my family. That morning, I got up and went to church for religious education together with the rest of the children who went with me. I was wearing pink jeans and a black coat over which I tried to hide my stomach so that others wouldn't see what was happening and wouldn't tease me. You know how it is in small circles, especially among children who are honest and tell everything as it is. I have always been a chubby and bright child, and from a young age, I was teased by others because of my fatness at that time, not only by society but also by my aunt. I know they had no bad intentions, but it all left some consequences in my subconscious. But as they say, to heal from my past, it is necessary to forgive everything and everyone, let go and move on. It wasn't clear to me what was happening, so I kept quiet all Saturday until Sunday when I finally decided to tell my mom what was happening. The belly was getting bigger and on Monday morning mom took the baby to the doctor for vaccinations, and I called her crying to bring the baby home and take me to the doctor because I was afraid for myself, and I didn't know what was going on. After the vaccination, she returned the baby home and took me to the Health center. Now at this moment, after years of experience, I believe that the people around us and some messages we see "by chance" are signals and instructions sent by God to protect and warn us. I mention this because I remember a message, I read at the time that was stuck on the counter at the Health center. It was some kind of ode about smiling and I remember how it was written that a smile heals everything. When I read that, I tried to laugh so that my stomach wouldn't "disappear" at that moment, and as strange as this sounds after the events that followed, I'll explain to you later why that ode made sense. The nurse asked us what was going on, mom said that my stomach was bloated and that we needed to see a doctor. Our family doctor was not working that day, so the nurse told us to wait until the doctor's room was free and we sat down in the corridor and waited. Mom was visibly nervous. When we entered, there were two doctors inside, both women, and my mom explained the situation to them. One doctor asked her how long it had been like this, and she said two days, to which the doctor expressed her displeasure and concern for my mother and why she didn't bring me earlier, which only increased my mother's concern. After I lay down on the doctor's table and after the doctor examined me, she gave me a referral to a children's pediatric stay for two/three days where they could not determine what was happening to me, and they sent me to gynecology ward. Still remembering that day when I came there, in the ward all the older women and I was the only one as a child. That's where they sent me for an ultrasound and a CT scan, but they didn't tell me anything specific. But as the days went by, my mom was suddenly "too good and too soft" towards me, and she pleased me with everything. Every day she asked me what I wanted to eat and drink, and every day she would cook for me and bring what I wanted. I knew something was wrong, there was a strange energy in the air. I felt that I was hiding something, when the nurse took me for an ultrasound at the gynecologist, he raised his voice when he looked at the monitor and said; "What is this?" then I was visibly scared. The nurse didn't comment, she just took me back to the room. For the CT scan, a doctor from Zagreb allegedly came to see my findings and after the examination, she told my parents that I should go to Zagreb for surgery, which they did not tell me at the first time. At that time, the sister of my sister's friend was working as a nurse in the maternity ward. I knew about her from before, she came here as a light and in the later events of my life, she helped me a lot and stood by me when it was the most difficult. I consider her a gift from God and a person whom God sent as help in those moments of my life. Because of all the good things she did for me and because of the kindness and beauty of her heart, two years later she was my godmother at Holy Chrism. I remember that at that time she often came to my room and cheered me on and told me that everything would be fine. As I'm a very stubborn person by nature, when they didn't want to tell me what happened to me after five days lying in the gynecology ward, I attacked my mom, why is she keeping anything from me, and she just looked with tears in her eyes and said that she was not hiding anything and that everything would be fine. I still remember that look of hers, deep blue eyes in which the sunlit sea surface was outlined, a look full of pain and pity for her child. When I heard that something was happening with my ovaries when my mom came, I just told her that I wanted to have children one day and she told me not to worry about having them. They already told me on Friday that I will go to Zagreb on Monday for an operation or a biopsy, depending on the doctors' assessment. Dad was already in my room on Saturday morning. He quickly returned from the business trip and asked me what I wanted, and I said raspberry-flavored water, and he brought me a whole package. I still remember that man when he entered through the door of my sickroom that early spring morning, carrying in his hands an entire package of my then-favorite water. He wore a black semi-long coat. In his forties, he looked very young because he took care of himself, tall and of medium build, he gave the impression of a man from high society. What life in the West does to a man, it makes a man from a small background a gentleman. Even though I was only looking for one bottle, I was very happy when I saw that he was carrying the whole package. That whole week my stomach was growing, and the doctors initially thought I was pregnant. Years later, a friend admitted to me that my mom asked them if I had a boyfriend because she wasn't sure either. I was a virgin and had never had sex before and I knew I wasn't pregnant. The doctors already told my mom what they suspected, and because of that she kept everything from me and was very scared. Dad always told me to calm down and that everything would be fine. As that whole week passed, my belly grew more and more, but now at a somewhat slower pace, and at one point it was very difficult for me to breathe, I didn't know exactly what was happening. Later I found out that it was the lymph nodes that were bursting to cool the tumor. One day a doctor came with medical students to get me, and they took me to a room where they put needles in my upper back and took out the fluid. I remember the doctor talking to me while I was sitting on the chair with my back to him while he was taking that water out of my lungs. In the end, he told me that everything would be okay and left a needle in my back connected to an infusion bottle so that all the water would go into it. Later I was sent back to the room with water dripping from my back the whole time and at one point I got up from the bed and called the nurse to change my sheets which were all wet as if I had spilled a bucket of water on them. Monday was approaching, the day I was supposed to leave for Zagreb. I was very arrogant towards my mother who did not want to tell me what was happening to me, and I constantly attacked her, which I am not at all proud of, while she answered me compassionately and tried to calm the situation. During all this time, the obsessive-compulsive disorder in my head did not let me alone, and as that Monday, the twenty-fifth of March approached, the disorder seemed to be heading toward its peak. That morning they took me out of the hospital, put me in an ambulance, and sent a nurse with me who was recently divorced, and on the way, she told me about her ex-husband and her daughter, who was shaken by "puberty madness". I was always very communicative and open, there were appreciated considered me a valuable friend and person, but there were also those who resented me or misunderstood me, but in the situation at that time, such things are good for a person to talk about at least he doesn't think about its own problems for a while. My mom also went with us, but before she got into the vehicle she gave me a file with prayers and holy oil that I still keep to this day, she sat in the front of the vehicle in the passenger seat right next to the door, and we drove to our family home where my father and the baby were waiting for us to go with the car together with the mother, that is, to follow me in the ambulance. Mom went out and put the baby's stroller in the ambulance because there was no more room in her car. As our family house was in the middle of a "dead-end street" where there were two other houses, barely on the left and the other on the right, which was reached downhill, the ambulance driver parked us downhill. I peeked to see what was happening, then I saw my aunt holding the baby in her arms all in white, and giving it to my mother, crying that she was going to the unknown. Then I heard a "voice" in my head, but not even like a voice, but more like a thought that came into my head and told me what I should do, later that same "voice" spoke to me many things in life that I should do and pushed me forward, then suddenly a thought came to my head again; "Go down to see the baby, this may be the last time you see her alive". Just thinking about it made me feel bad and I just went back, convincing myself that maybe I'll see her alive, but deep down I knew, I don't know how or why, that it was the last time I'd see her, and probably my mom too. I just lay back in the vehicle, convincing myself that now is the right opportunity to get rid forever of those "bad thoughts" that were coming to my mind. When I think about it, that voice was telling me all the time what was going to happen and giving me instructions on how to behave, only I was scared at first by those bad feelings of bad energy. We left for Zagreb, and they followed us. My dad was driving the car and my mom and sister were sitting in the back seat. That car, that blue Renault Clio covered in a shiny layer of mini particles that my mom got from my dad as a gift to have for her needs and the needs of her children while he was on the road, while my dad was paying off the lease. An interesting fact is that the last installment was in February 2013, just a month before that car will be scrapped forever, and two lost lives will become an eternal memory.