This is how I know God is my pal. In November I had a freak paralysis of my right leg that lasted five hours, documented by doctors at Beth Israel Deaconess Hospital in Milton, Massachusetts. Then my mobility returned to normal. Four medical experts looked at MRI’s, scans, blood tests and sonograms; but it was not due to strokes, clot or brain lesions. I’m officially a medical anomaly. The neurologist said so.
So here’s the “God is my pal” part. Doctors discovered an unrelated lung tumor, 3.7 cm, which might be cancerous. Because of its size, it has to come out no matter what. While I’m in surgery, the removed tumor will be analyzed for malignancy. If it’s benign, I get sewed back up. If it’s malignant, they perform a lobectomy, removing the top one-third of my left lung and surrounding lymph nodes. It’s so straightforward, really.
My surgery is set for 10 a.m. on March 4.
Given my healthy history, I might ask, “Why me?” But this is how fair God is, he doesn’t play favorites. Entitlements and logic mean nothing in the randomness of life. Why not me?
Instead, I went on an inner journey guided by a Reiki healer to look deeper into my stress and behavior.
“You have a big, inner blabbermouth that is always talking, and you’re always talking back. Your schedule is way too full, you need to slow down,” she said.
Although she said my busyness did not cause the tumor, she did make a connection to my lung.
“It’s like you are always running to the next thing and you can barely catch your breath.”
Like many faced with potential cancer, I did an inner reset. Like the tumor, what can I excise from my daily life? Habits, obligations, guilt, maybe egotism that “no one can do this like me.”
My faith and Reiki have created a protective and calming cocoon; I am unafraid.
God is my pal. If it weren’t for my freak, temporary paralysis, this lung mass never would have been detected in its early stages. I mean, why would I ever have had all those MRI’s done?
Doctors give practical advice, and I’m onboard. Spiritual evaluation is vital, too. If God sends me such signs, good help, and perfect timing, wouldn’t it be ingratitude for me to ignore the message? “Slow down.” I look to the heavens and say, “Yeah, I’m hearing you loud and clear.”
So there you go. If they don’t misspell lobectomy as lobotomy, it will all work out.
What can you do for me? Just beam me prayers and good thoughts. Envision my complete recovery. We have more control over our physical state than we think. I’ll write again when I’m on the other side of surgery.
Email Suzette Martinez Standring at firstname.lastname@example.org.