A Random Chapter from a Good Book to Read...
Okay, I am somewhat biased when I say this: I know a good book to read. Biased because it's mine. Why do I say it's good? Because it is full of events--big and small--from real life, that reveal our Creator's careful and caring participation in the daily comings and goings of us everyday people!
Some of them are the kinds of things that happen on the regular, and some of them seriously make you sit back and think a bit! I'm absolutely certain that your own life has more than a few examples pocketed away somewhere, maybe hidden among the shrubbery. In your quieter times, take a little walk through your best (and maybe even worst) memories, and with your mind's eye, try to find just one of those God-revealing moments. Be sure not to manufacture one. Just find one that's been hidden. And when you do, thank the Lord for showing you how He's been faithful.
By the time I found out I had a large tumor in my brain, it required immediate attention. The fact that I can sit here right now, like I am, able to write some of the highlights of my experience for you is an awesome gift. This is true no matter how I look at it, and I hope you can enjoy seeing God's hand at work in my story, too. Because if you see it, you'll be blessed by it, too!!
Answers Right Under My Nose
Dr. Robinson and I chitchatted about his children as he examined the backs of my eyes, and then he said I could just relax for a few minutes. He was going to take care of something, and he’d be back shortly. When he came back, it was to tell me he had scheduled an emergency CT scan. The swelling he had seen in my optic nerve probably indicated either an eye disease that affects primarily women or a brain tumor, and that my friend should drive me to the hospital immediately.
Well, Lori would end up driving me to many places in the coming months. The ER, the “rehab,” the Ice Cream Churn, home, follow-up doctor visits, the church building. Later, I’d try acupuncture, and she’d drive me there. But for now, it was to the hospital. A CT scan did reveal a tumor on my left occipital lobe, which plays a huge role in vision-related matters. The tumor was the size of a large grapefruit, and that helps clarify why I was having “blackouts” – the spinal fluid was trapped, unable to make the rounds as it should. Nothing like a grapefruit-sized obstruction to hinder circulation.
I can laugh about it now, of course, but at the time it wasn’t funny. After the CT scan discovery, Lori and I were shown into a small, windowless conference room. This is where I would need to quickly (there wasn’t much time) choose a neurosurgeon to perform the brain surgery. What? Again, I was given the task of selecting a specialist to defend my life. And again, I had no idea how to choose.
“What does a neurosurgeon do?” My words seemed to cut into the heavy air. I remember looking across the room at Dr. Robinson and Dr. Wasley, who was filling in for Dr. Scappaticci this night. The two of them were seated side by side at the end of the room, while Lori and I stood, still close to the small room’s one door. We had been invited to sit with them (there was plenty of seating available), but I’d rather stand, and my stalwart friend stood with me.
A neurosurgeon, as it turns out, was who would be able to operate on the tumor and hopefully remove it.
“Well, I don’t know any neurosurgeons—”
At once Dr. Robinson began to read aloud the names on the list he had in his hand, “There’s Yale, in New Haven. There’s So-and-So, in such-and-such a place. After “Yale, in New Haven,” I perceived sound…what seemed like dozens of inconspicuous names and places.
Somewhere in the middle, I heard “…and Jonathan Ballon, in New Britain,” and then there were more names, which turned into a meaningless stream of rambling by the time they reached my preoccupied mind. Then suddenly, the list came to an end, and it was time to choose. I was looking at Lori, and she and both doctors were looking at me, expectantly. What was I waiting for? Let’s have a name. This is not what they said, it was what I heard. I remember feeling like I bore the enormous weight of electing my champion to settle my fate…a one-time chance. No do-overs, so I’d best choose wisely.
I prayed. Nobody else could hear me, but I knew God had. Who should I choose, LORD? I still didn’t have a clue whom to choose, but since I clearly remembered that name in the middle of the list, I looked at the doctors and said, timidly, “I guess Jonathan Ballon in New Britain.”