Angel's Blood Mission

Fog spreads like syrup on the misty mountains in Jamaica. The dark, narrow, winding road from Ocho Rios instantly became impassable to all but pedestrian traffic.

However, the taxi carrying a man named Jeff had to keep driving the 40 miles to St. Joseph Hospital in Kingston - fast. Without medical resources available only to St. Joseph, Jeff was going to die soon. Doctors suspected he had ruptured the aorta above its big belly, the largest blood vessel in his body.

A father of eight children and only 40 years, Jeff has been bled to death beside his wife in the back seat of the taxi. Tragedy threatened to end what had begun with happiness as a convention sales incentive device. Jeff, who was master of ceremonies for the banquet and ceremony that evening, was to deliver his love of liquor and good times on the beach in the afternoon.

Drunk on champagne, he rented a Sunfish even though he knew nothing about sailing. The bay breeze sent the boat all the way to the main reef, where Jeff realized he was in difficulty. He fought tipsily to turn the boat around. Instead, it capsized and threw it into the water. gunwale of the boat twice Jeff biggest blow to the side with great force that the machine tipped over and over.

Working off of pure adrenaline, Jeff has managed to cling to the stern and a little rigging. Somehow, he and panfish float on the beach. Jeff was so weak he had to be postponed to his hotel room, where he evacuated a large amount of blood from his bowels.

Terrified, he called her doctor's office back in Norman, Okla. The nurse ordered him not to lie down, urged him to immediately call a local medical assistance and even phoned the hotel reception to long distance to ensure that others knew Jeff was troubled life in danger.

A young doctor from Jamaica, called to the room Jeff, watched in horror as Jeff evacuated blood even more. He gave Jeff two injections of vitamin K Jeff thickens the blood to slow the rate of bleeding. The doctor tried to find the next transit in Kingston. Local residents are so afraid of the mist and mountains only a taxi driver could be found who was willing to make the perilous journey that evening.

As the car has negotiated the foothills and the fog closed, a bearded and shaggy appeared alongside the road. Dressed in sandals, cape and baggy work pants, he did not at all like a Jamaican origin. He had arched eyebrows and big hands, "as a carpenter," recalls Jeff. Climb onto the front seat of the cab, he looked briefly at Jeff and asked him: "Is that man in great pain?"

Jeff was in an almost meditative state at this point and felt no pain as I remember.

The traveler spent the next two hours guiding the driver through the fog. He even left the cabin several times and stood just a few yards ahead, paving the way safely through the thick fog that obscured everything.

"We could not have continued without him," added Jeff. "There was a steep mountain slope on one side of the road and a precipice of another."

Finally, the taxi wound down the mountain and fog. The passenger asked the driver to stop, got out of the car and disappeared, always to be seen or heard of him.

When Jeff arrived at the hospital in Kingston, he was only 40 percent of normal blood pressure and required massive transfusions under pressure. Doctors have told him immediately that he had no hope of surviving the rest of the night.

They do not take into account a small Jamaican religious, however. She told Jeff that first night in hospital and in the days immediately following. She prayed for Jeff to the Virgin Mary and St. Joseph in the chapel of the hospital. The next day, she made her prayers, Jeff knew that his blood had stopped. He was even strong enough to get out of bed.

Jeff.