dd - Not Even a Finger

DD – Not even a finger

November 1994

The doctor’s soft footsteps enter the waiting room and the door shuts behind him with a click similar to my granddaddy’s revolver. His eyes fall upon every object in the room except the eyes of the individuals gathered before him like disciples before Jesus….eagerly awaiting his words….and wanting to run from them.
He breathes in sharply, rubs his hands together and says …“He will be paralyzed from the neck down for the remainder of his life.”
The words suck the very life out of the room. A wail goes up among us but I do not recall from who. A crashing thunder of grief hits my heart and rips it apart.
My brother….who knew that when you left for work this morning that it would be the last time you would hold your baby girl with two arms wrapped around her tight. The last time you would hold hot coffee to your lips. The last time you would pet that old beagle you rescued from the pound. The last time you would make love to your wife.
We will deal with this. What other choice do we have.
The doctor continued to say that you will not have any chance of recovering movement in your arms. Not even a finger. You will have to operate a wheelchair with your mouth and breath.
The doctor has already told you privately of your diagnosis. We go in to see you and wipe away the tears that you cannot. Through the morphine fog, you tell us that God came to see last night and that he stood you up before him. The others look at each other knowingly and proclaim in whispers that it must be the drugs causing hallucinations.

I know they are wrong. He was there. He was there because I prayed for Him to go to you. He listened. Will you remember that?


[edit on 23-5-2006 by sdp333]

[edit on 23-5-2006 by sdp333]

[edit on 23-5-2006 by sdp333]