I recently read a book about a Canadian scientist who went to work as a medical missionary in India. Within a couple of years he was struck by polio and paralyzed from the neck down. By using a “wooden lung” found neglected in the hospital courtyard and a spare inner tube left behind by another doctor they managed to keep him alive long enough to get the medical attention he needed to live. He went on to study and to teach even though he never regained the use of his legs and only the partial use of his hands after transplant operations.
I found his philosophy in God’s Mountain a refreshing and a more realistic approach than some of the other messages I’ve been hearing regarding sickness and calamity. In chapter six James Ashwin says the following:
“A profusion of puzzled thoughts converge on one idea: God spares righteous people from trouble and disaster and He gives special favours to those considered as His children. Does He?
Those who persist in believing in this kind of God will eventually be disappointed. What kind of world would we have if there was a law that saved the righteous and struck down the wicked? A fearless bunch of Christians could soon clean the world of gangsters and thwart all kinds of impending calamities. But “righteous” people often find themselves opposing each other in politics, love, and battle situations. The outcome in every instance certainly does not seem to depend on righteousness.”
Last Friday I went for my lumpectomy. The doctor removed tissue about the size of two Bic lighters side by side. First stop was the imaging centre where they placed a wire down to the lesion to direct the doctor to its location. The process was unnerving and painful. And then I waited … and waited… seven hours before going into surgery. I was the surgeon’s simple procedure for the day. The two patients next to me both had a breast and lymph nodes removed. It was hard to feel sorry for myself when they had it much worse, but I managed to sneak in quite a few “woe is me”.
The surgery went well and I don’t remember a single thing – thank goodness. The pain is manageable and I’m well on my way to recovery.
A special thank you to all of you who took the time to text or call, bring flowers, or a meal. The gestures are soooo appreciated and help to lift my spirits in the discouraging moments.
Have yourselves a wonderful week!