Do Angels Exist?

Have You Met an Angel? I Have and Here Is My Story

By Michelle Caporale

Back in 1996, I was in a horrible car accident. It left me with several herniated discs and much pain. At first no one could diagnose me properly but after several MRI’s the answers were clear. After 7 months of pain as well as unemployment, surgery was in order. No one likes surgery; however, I feared this surgery with such intensity. Knowing that someone was going to cut into the front of my neck, move my vocal cords around then take a piece of my hip bone and fuse discs in my neck frightened me to the point that I began having panic attacks.

The day came – December 19^th. I was terrified, and so were my children. The hospital was fine and the nurses were kind as I tried to get off the gurney while being wheeled into the surgical room. I was ready to rip the IV’s out and run for the hills!

The surgery was tedious and more damage was found as they went in. I survived, obviously. The pain began to set in as expected. The morphine drip went on full drive. Beam me up before I scream. I hated that I could not speak. (Some may have appreciated that). I could hear the nurses talking to my Uncle and fiancé at the time. The surgeon was giving his assessment as to what was to come and how the healing process would begin. I heard all this but was unable to open my eyes or comment. I wanted to cry. I missed my kids. They were safe with their father but I wanted to see them.

The night rolled in and I was left under the care of the evening nurse. He was rude and appeared to have little time to check on me. I rang for him several times as I felt excruciating pain knowing something was off. I kept looking at the clock praying. “Dear God, please make this pain stop. Someone help me; send me a sign that I will be okay.” The night nurse came in but insisted I was over reacting, the morphine pump was working and I needed to rest. He was annoying and served no purpose other than to make me cry even more. That was the last time I saw him until the 7 am shift arrived.

At 2 am a very different looking man entered my room asking what was wrong, how I was feeling and what he could do for me. He was bald with a little hair on the sides, short and stocky. To be truthful, he looked like George Castanza from Seinfeld.

He smelled like roses and he was loving, gentle and somehow took away the pain from the surgery. His touch was comforting. He never said he was a staff member, and did not offer his name. He told me the morphine pump had malfunctioned, therefore causing me to feel all the incisions. He explained that he heard me asking for help when I prayed. I was dumb-founded, to say the least.

This “man” was unique, illuminating and filled with such peace that I could fall asleep knowing he was standing by my bedside. He told me I would know of all this in the morning, my life would be better; my intuitive gifts would grow to serve others. He mentioned the children were safe and he wiped my tears, while touching my hand.

He shared briefly that God heard my wishes and hearts desires. All would be well, the surgery was a good success with some left over damage but I would learn to cope. In a few minutes time, he was gone as quickly as he entered. How perfect, kind and professional could this nurse be? The pain eased off enough that I could finally fall asleep.

Morning came; the nurses were in getting the orders to help me begin to use my legs so I could put pressure on the hip that was used to take bone from for the fusions in my neck. I explained how the two nurses were so different. One was rude the other was nothing short of an angel.

Wendy was the 7am-3pm nurse. She told me there was only the one male nurse, the one who did not do his job. The morphine pump had indeed malfunctioned. They all felt terrible seeing I went the entire night without pain medication. However, there was no one who fit my description of the other male. He simply did not exist. I was not hallucinating and everything was real. The nuns came in to visit and so I told them the same story. Much to my surprise they actually believed me. One had mentioned perhaps God had sent an angel to comfort me.

There is No Progress to be Made by Celebrating Our Differences

You may think this is a silly or even a crazy story. Everything that man told me was true and did happen, even if it was years later. He was no one and nowhere to be found. No one on the staff even fit his description. I did plead with God that night. It was painful. I was fully aware and awake. How does one explain this? My answer is simple; “An Angel.” An angel came to my bedside to bring me peace and reassure me that God is fully aware of who I am as He is with us all.

I will always remember that night, that peaceful feeling, and most of all, what I learned. Angels do walk this universe. I also learned to never lose sight of the majesty and magnitude of prayer.

May you always walk in faith with the hands of an angel or two.

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