This I wrote as a response to Writing 101(day 17) (the assignment is to write about something I fear. Instead I write about when I was afraid.)
Although he did not acquire fame, and if what I believe is be true, then he was a card carrying certified miracle worker.
The he who I refer to is the surgeon who rescued me from the brink of death (cliché, I know, but it works here.)
I woke up after a simple surgery, to sounds of code blue, although at that moment I don’t think I actually heard them. I was too engrossed in breathing–or not breathing. Anyway it was, frighteningly, something that I seemed unable to do. And I had to fight the pain which seized hold and wouldn’t let go.
I was not having a heart attack, but something happened that caused a grapefruit size blood clot to form in my chest. (This I found out later.) I was transferred to another hospital where God intervened and provided a surgeon who not only had the knowledge to surgically correct the problem, but had about the best bedside manner of any doctor on this planet.
Intensive care was necessary followed by a long hospital stay where various procedures were employed, until the said surgery became the only option.
I am here as living proof that miracles do exist, and that sometimes humble people are God’s hands in making them happen.
I Cor. 12:9,10 The spirit gives…..gifts of healing………the power to perform miracles…..(not a direct quote)