Channing: I am a disease

…continued from previous post. A miracle story by a father told through his son’s eyes.

[The doctors were still pretty optimistic about my chances of going home in a few days, but they said “He just needs time. The sickness has to run its course.” My parents almost got tired of hearing the same sayings–as they just wanted my eyes to open and me back in their arms. That didn’t happen for a while.]

After about an hour visiting, my Gam and Ginga had to leave so they could get to Lynchburg for my brother and sister, who were at Miss. Linda’s house. As my grandmas began to leave, Bo walked in. I know I wasn’t really awake at the time, but that was an incredible moment in my story. The guy who saved my life walked in to hug my Dad, Mom and grandmas. There was not a dry eye in the room. My Gam and Ginga looked at Bo in the eye and said “Thank you. You have no idea what this means to us. You saved our grandson.”

Bo then asked my Dad, “Do you need me? I will do whatever I can. Are you sure you are okay if I leave and go back home?” My Dad said “Of course, go home and be with your family. You have done so much–for goodness sakes.” Bo then said “I have to see my daughter (Sadie). After what happened with Channing, I need to see her.” You see, Sadie is my friend now, but she’s a little older than me. She was a little sick at home and Mr. Bo was slightly worried. He told my Dad he had taken life for granted, as there were times he would get frustrated at how much Sadie cried from having colic. After this happened with me, Bo had a whole new outlook on life.

“Gam” and “Ginga” save the day!

…continued from previous post. A miracle story by a father through his son’s eyes.

[I got to see the realness of life during this time. I hope you have too just through my little story. I could’ve died that morning, but I didn’t. The Lord has something for me to do while I’m here. He does you too.]

After about four hours passed in Room 1139 at the Roanoke hospital, my parents woke up to find they were not dreaming. The night before, they were both trying to pinch themselves to wake up from the nightmare of their newborn son having a near death experience. Often times people say Satan attacks us in our dreams. My parents would find themselves being attacked several times, but they had a choice to choose to fall into that attack or choose God. Some days for my Mom and Dad were harder than others.

One breath can change your life

…continued from previous post. A miracle story told by a father through his son’s eyes.

[ already put my parents through a lot and I can’t tell you how guilty and bad I felt. However, I knew I was going through that for a reason. I could feel it with every fiber of my broken body that God was going to use my life for his glory.]

For the next few hours I spent in solitude, while my parents slept. I wasn’t exactly awake, but my soul was. In a breath-by-breath moment I realized the importance of life. If you sit and think about it, we get so caught up in life, where we forget that we are breathing. Often times, in my two weeks of life prior to my breathless event, I took so much for granted. I know what you may be thinking, “You were a baby, Channing, how did you know to take things for granted?” Well, that exactly right. I didn’t know I was at the time, but even a two-week-old baby can take things for granted. I expected every three hours for my Mommy to feed me. I expected my Daddy or Mommy to rock me to sleep soon after that specific feeding. I expected for my diaper to be changed when I put a little surprise inside. If I didn’t get any of these, all I would have to do was cry–normally I would then get my way. For two weeks, that was my every day: eat, sleep, poop and pee. The comfort of all that was soon taken away.

Daddy’s hands

…continued from previous post. A miracle story told by a father through his son’s eyes.

[My Dad looked down at my little baby bed, a tear gently fell down his cheek, and he got ready to speak his first words to me since I arrived in Roanoke.]

“Hey little buddy,” he said. “I love you.” My Dad was so broken-hearted at the moment. Although I was highly sedated, I could feel his gentle, shaky hand press on my weak body. He barely touched the side of my arm (the one without the IV) and began to pray. He said, “Lord, please guard my son. I pray for healing. I pray for comfort for my family. I pray for my little boy. Please God, please do something. But, most of all, may your will be done.”

Lying in that ICU hospital bed, I have to admit, was hard because I could do nothing else. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t even open my eyes. However, I knew after my father prayed that prayer, there was something inside of me that didn’t want to give up. I was going to fight. I knew the song that my parents would sing to me “Jesus Loves Me” was real. There’s a man named Jesus, he loves me, and I am in his hands for the Bible told me so. That’s exactly what I had to hold on to during that time of my life. 

My Parents Reunite in Room 1139

…to be continued. A miracle story by a father through his son’s eyes.

[...the sunrise was beautiful for my Dad and Mr. Barry, but it was nothing compared to what they would see after they entered the hospital.]

With shock, devastation and exhaustion still written all over his face, my Daddy and Mr. Barry continued one step at a time through the doors of Roanoke Carilion Memorial. They passed the front desk. They passed the coffee shop. They stood in front of the elevators, pressed number 11 and got ready to head up to see me. My Dad stepped into the elevator, looked at Mr. Barry and said: “Here we go.” I don’t think he knew what to expect.

When the elevator bell rung, the “11″ lit up and the doors opened, my father was holding his breath. Before they were able to come back to see me, they had to pick up the ICU phone, and call back because the PICU was isolated and secured. My Dad picked up the phone with shaky hands. The nurse’s assistant answered, “Yes, can I help you?” My Dad said “Yes, my son Channing is back there. Can I come back and see him?” The doors opened. 

Spirit FM: We need urgent prayer!

…continued from previous post. A miracle story by a father through his son’s eyes.

[Once they all entered through the garage, and saw Miss. Linda, she walked up to them and started showing everyone around. However, when Miss. Linda walked up to my Daddy, she said “Okay, Michael, I’ll take care of everything. Let me know what you need.” It was at that moment, my Dad looked at Miss. Linda in the eye and the next thing you know he…]

…could do nothing but cry. His eyes, so desperate, looked at Miss. Linda, a woman he had only seen twice before in his life, and then he fell into her arms. Miss. Linda, my Daddy’s future radio co-host, embraced him and served as a listening shoulder for him to cry on. She looked at my Daddy and said, “Oh Michael! I know it’s hard. We will get through this.”

Mr. Barry, a few feet away, then turned to Miss. Linda and said “Clearly, he’s not stable enough to go on his own. I’m going to drive him to Roanoke. Will you take care of the other two kids–Connor and London? They’ve had no sleep–along with my Dad’s friend Bo. Just call Dave and let him know you will not be on the show for the next few days.” Miss. Linda replied, “Absolutely. I’ve got it covered. You two go on. We’re okay here.”

My Dad’s second stop: The Armstrong Home

…continued from previous post. A miracle story by a father told through his son’s eyes.

[My father had to walk into the house where the whole “event” just took place a few hours prior. The house already haunted him. He opened the door and all of a sudden…]

Bo and my brother Connor walked out of one of the back rooms and into the living room. Mr. Barry and my Dad greeted the two, hugged tightly and then rushed to get everything needed for the ride to Roanoke. My sister London was sleeping in the back room, while Bo and Connor told my Dad they just couldn’t sleep. Mr. Barry then invited my siblings and Bo over to his house to sleep in a nice, comfortable bed because nothing was moved into our house yet.

After my Dad grabbed a jacket, and a few minor items for the hospital, he, Mr. Barry, London, Connor and Bo were headed to their next destination–the Armstrong’s house. As they were about to get into the car, my Dad’s phone rang. On the other end, his stepdad, Pat. It took my Daddy off guard because the two never really talked much on the phone. Actually, it meant a lot to my Dad. Pat said, “Hey, are you okay?” That one question meant more to my Dad than anything Pat had ever done or said to him before. It was a new sign of compassion in their relationship that really showed my Dad the realness of the situation. His son was bonding relationships.

Roanoke bound, Daddy’s boss arrives

…continued from previous post. A miracle story told by a father through his son’s eyes.

[All of sudden my Mom sat down, my Dad next to her. They looked up, saw my practically paralyzed little body and broke down. As the nurse came back up to my parents, it was then my Dad felt like he couldn’t take anymore. He began to get up out of the chair and…]

…walked out for a minute. My Dad had seen enough for the moment. My Mom stayed in the room to talk to a young woman with a computer by her side. After a few minutes passed, my Dad walked back in my room and sat next to my Mom. They both still had that same blank look on their face.

A few more minutes passed and my parents went back out the room because Mr. Barry had shown up. My Dad walked into the ER lobby where Bo and my brother and sister had just left to go home. He then hugged Mr. Barry in desperation for someone to take the pain away. Here was my Dad pawning his emotions off on a man he barely knew–his new boss. Then the two pushed the silver automatic button and were on their way back to meet my Mom and I.

Diagnosis, the Armstrong call, and a best friend’s embrace

…continued from previous post. A miracle story by a father through his son’s eyes.

[At the time they thought maybe they would have to stay the night at that hospital–still hoping to take me home. However, that story changed quite drastically in a matter of minutes. The doctor walked in to get my parents. My Mom lifted her head, wiped her tears, as the doc walked toward her and my Dad with a blank look on her face. The doctor said, “Mr. and Mrs. Brown…]

“…we have completed the procedure. Channing now has the ventilator in and he’s stable. We are testing for a few things right now. We think he may have something called RSV.” My Dad then replied, “RSV? What is that?” The doctor said, “Okay, that is like a common cold for you and I, but for a two-week-old baby it could be devastating. The reason Channing could have quit breathing could be due to his sickness, causing mucus, saliva and congestion to not allow him to breathe through his nose. You see, a baby his age doesn’t know yet how to breathe out of his or her mouth. He had an apnea spell, which is where he stopped breathing because he couldn’t get airflow through his nose due to the congestion.”

My Parents: Weak and Waiting

…continued from previous post. A miracle story by a father through his son’s eyes.

[So as my parents locked tear-filled eyes with hope in every drop, I was out. There I was in the Lynchburg Emergency Room Bay 3. A little baby boy lying on a hospital bed with a ventilator pumping oxygen into his lungs, heavily sedated and holding on for dear life. My future was uncertain.]

As the doctors and nurses gathered around my numb body, in the room my parents were in, there was continued panic. My mother was sitting on a chair, light-headed, with her head resting on her tired hands. She began to sob.

My father was pacing back-n-forth a few feet away from my mom. Still stunned from the original devastation of my breathless moment, he turned to my mom and tried to offer comfort. On one knee, he bent down to look at my Mommy’s face and started to pray. All my parents could do was hold each other tightly. Hope was the word of that moment. My Mom and Dad, thinking there was a strong possibility the doctor could walk in any moment to announce my death, was still hopeful. Hopeful, but also doubtful. My Dad rushed out to the hallway to peak into the room, the nurse saw him and came over. “Sir, would you like any food or drink? You need something!” My Dad was too worried at the time, saying: “How is he? What’s going on? What are they doing now? Is the ventilator in yet?”