When my mom was still alive, I continued scheduling all annual checkups in San Antonio to visit family and friends. I'd make my appointments on Friday's and stay for the weekend. Besides, I really loved my GYN. She and I were roughly the same age. She was brilliant but easy-going--like a friend more than a doctor.
During this time, one of George's buddies from high school to adulthood was diagnosed with the most deadly form of brain cancer in his early 40's. I remember mentioning the diagnosis to my GYN, acquainted with hope but also a practitioner of science. The good doctor and even better friend gently told me of a very bleak prognosis.
There wasn't going to be any spontaneous healing from Heaven. Regardless of the heartfelt circle of prayers, this particular type of CANCER would eventually prevail. "One-hundred-million miracles" don't always happen every day after all.
Then again thanks to medical advances, there were some plateaus. Our friend continued to enjoy life until he was gone. Fading into the distance as we said our goodbyes, he was off on another journey.
Perhaps there are miracles after all?
Take that cancer!
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