The True Story of God’s Miracle
INTRODUCTION
September 2004
It is said there is a theory in Medicine that a patient often believes they have fallen in love with their doctors or caregivers. It is a transference of affection that comes from gratitude and manifests itself in mistaken feelings of affection.
I truly believe that every patient secretly feels this attraction towards their doctor on any given occasion. Most of these feelings are fleeting an almost become laughable if thought about in any degree. My feelings for Dr D went from thankfulness to admiration to a brief infatuation but ended in the realization that he had been provided by God to give me the life that I was to continue.
The first time I met him I knew he was unique. It was not so much his demeanor as it was the perception that sparkled in his eyes. I had always marveled that he greeted his patients personally and ushered them into his office. It was that warmth that had drawn me to him on my very first visit many years ago.
As I sat down in the exam room, Dr. D proceeded to open my file. “It appears the tests are positive in your favor and show no seizure activity. The Center for Epilepsy will slowly wean you off the Dilantin while they monitor your progress. When this has been completed you will be free from medication and most likely live a seizure free life.”
My stomach was suddenly churning; a strange emptiness flooding over me. I fought to ignore the pain in my chest signaling a familiar heartache. I thought of the past years and all Dr. D had done for me. Along with performing the brain surgery that had saved my life, he had been there through every family crisis as well as the work upheavals which are a part of the everyday stress most of us endure.
I recalled being in his office the morning of 911. Somehow the worst tragedy of our nation brought the beginning of my own personal sense of loss as it marked the beginning of our discussion to begin testing and eventually part ways. I couldn’t stop thinking of how many times he had been my rock during the most catastrophic time in my own life.
“I will miss seeing you but am glad I will no longer have to take the medication. Thirty years is a long time.” I swallowed the tight lump in my throat. “I don’t know if I told you that I’m writing a memoir about my experience. Would it be ok with you if I include you in the story?”
He smiled. “Well, only if you make me suave and debonair.”
I laughed. “Without a doubt.”
On that note, he stood up and reached over to shake my hand as he had done at the conclusion of every visit.
“Thank you,” I stammered, my voice quivering. “I’ll never forget you.”
I could see in his eyes that he understood the confidence I had placed in him.
Yet as the door closed, I sat there chewing desperately on my bottom lip. My heart was pounding in my chest; the burning pain in my gut was unbearable. My security blanket had suddenly been pulled from beneath me, and I was left feeling naked and abandoned.
After several minutes, I forced myself to get up and open the door. Although, it was sad to say good-bye, I knew deep in my heart it was for all the right reasons.
As I trudged down the long hallway to the lobby, my heart rate returned to normal as a voice in my head whispered its comforting words, “you no longer need him. It is finally over”.
I was reminded of all I had endured; all I had defeated and the great lessons I would never forget. I discovered that where there is life, there is hope, that God answers prayers, and miracles do happen.
I decided it was up to me to tell my story in the simplest way I could so that others would know that God is real, and He never forsakes His children.