This is an absolutely true story.
Since my dad has been gone to Michigan, my wife has been going to visit the elderly lady who lives across the street every day. She’s bored, I suppose, and the woman – Leona – enjoys the company.
Leona has a grandson named David. I’ve know David for a long time, but rarely talk to him … we’re just not that close.
David was born with diabetes. He was not expected to live to adulthood. If he did, he was not supposed to live past thirty. This coming Friday will be David’s fortieth birthday. He’s lost both legs from the knees down, he goes to dialysis a couple of times a week, and his eyesight is failing … but he was still alive.
Last Monday David was in the hospital. He had passed out several times, and a CAT scan showed that he had an aneurism in the back of his brain. David was hospitalized so that surgery could be done on the aneurism.
Monday afternoon, though, the surgeon asked David’s mother to follow him out of the room. When she returned to the room, she was sobbing uncontrollably. David asked what the problem was, but she couldn’t answer, so the surgeon spoke up. The aneurism was inoperable. Not only that, it was expanding, and was expected to burst within a matter of hours. Basically, David had been told he had two hours to live.
All of his family was called to come to the hospital, and they also called his pastor to come for “the end.”
I guess it’s because he’s lived with the possibility of an early death all of his life, but David took the news pretty well. His family has always been fairly religious, and he just stated that if it was his time to go, he was ready to go. He did regret that he would not live to see his forty.
David gave his bank card to his sister and asked her to go draw all the money out of his account. He didn’t want any government interference in the settling of his estate. He signed the back of his car title so that someone could get it transferred into their name. Basically, he was giving everything away.
David asked the doctor if he could get something to eat.
“No,” the doctor said. It seems that they were afraid the rise in blood pressure due to eating would harm him.
“But you just said I’m only going to live a couple of hours anyway; what’s the harm?”
Nope, the hospital had its protocol to follow. No food.
“Gee … even condemned prisoners get a last meal!” David said.
Sorry, there was no “wiggle room” on this issue.
“What would you want if you could have anything?” David’s father asked him.
“One of everything on the menu at Red Lobster … and charge it on my credit card; it’s not like they’ll be able to collect,” Was his answer.
No food was brought.
As they sat there reminiscing, talking, and praying, someone noticed that two hours had passed. David was asked how he felt, and he said that he felt as good as ever.
A few more hours passed, and nothing happened. Nurses kept checking his vital signs, and they were always normal. The surgeon would pop in every once in awhile to see what was going on, and was always pleasantly surprised to find David awake and talking.
Six hours later, they decided to give David another CAT scan to see what the status was. The aneurism was gone! Not even a slight bulging of the blood vessel, it was all just normal.
On Monday morning my wife told me that David was in the hospital not expected to live. On Tuesday afternoon she told me that David was being released from the hospital … either late Tuesday or early Wednesday.
“What?” Was my response, “I thought he was dying?”
“It healed up.” She said.
“You know, if I’m ever in the hospital and the doctor tells you I’m dying and then tries to release me the next day, don’t let him! Make them keep me at least an extra day to make damned sure I don’t keel over as soon as I get home!”
They actually did keep David until Wednesday morning … just to be sure.
Sunday night when I accompanied my wife to church, there was David … walking … talking … normal as ever.
Miraculous healing? I don’t know. Mechanical failure of the CAT scan machine? I don’t know. I suppose it comes down to what you believe in and how you believe in it.
All I really know is that I shook the hand of a man last night that should have been buried several days before.
Oh … and he did get his money and his car back.
