MAE JULIAN
THE GIFT OF FAITH
I have just returned to Louisville from the Fort. I wanted to share my experience of this last couple of weeks with you:
It began with a call from my sister, Kathy. From the solemn tone of her voice, I knew this was not a routine call. I went in my bedroom and shut the door. I had a houseful of kids. I sat on the bed and braced for the worst. I thought the news would be about our mother. My sister’s voice said, “Danny has cancer.” Then she continued, “It is stage 3. That’s all I really know.” I don’t know if my heart stopped or it just seemed so. Danny is my youngest brother. Something inside of me wanted to scream in protest: Cancer does NOT run in our family! And it doesn’t. If Kathy had told me he had narrowed arteries in his heart, it would fall in with what we DO have in our family. Not cancer. And, not Danny. It didn’t seem possible. And for it to be of such an advanced stage was shocking. There are only 4 stages. I knew Dan wasn’t one to go to a doctor, which is pretty much the way all of us in the family are. Our dad was our “doctor.”
Faith is something we hear about, think we believe, and rarely talk about. We all think we have it. But, if the chips were down as low as they could get, how well would your faith be? How well would mine? What I know for sure is that Danny has faith that is greater than can be expressed. He meditates at least two hours a day, and he has an unwavering belief that things work out the way they are designed to by the Great Designer. Danny, in halting words, told me that this was a gift. That it has been given to him to allow him to learn whatever lesson God has planned for him. I wanted to say, “Dan! This is a horrible disease. It is not a gift!” Still, Dan held to his beliefs. That is not to say that he did not have some gravely depressing days. He just accepted this as God’s plan for him.
Not having insurance began to haunt him, as it did the rest of the family. I had fears running through my head of his being handed off to the least of the least in medical care. I felt that for someone to take him on as a patient, someone who was competent would be a long shot. Still, Danny’s faith held.
By the grace of God, the doctor who was going to be taking care of him moved, and he was given the chance to be seen by Dr. V. Parikh. He is a colorectal surgeon. Dan knew from the moment he met him that this doctor was a very special gift. His conversations with Dr. Parikh told him that this was THE surgeon that had been God-sent. Dr. Parikh himself told Danny that God directs his hands to do His work, and that anything that he does comes from God. I have been a nurse for 35 years, and have never heard a doctor give God credit for the work that he performs. I was yet to meet him, and what an experience.
After Danny’s surgery Dr. Parikh came out and talked to each of us present. First, he talked to Molly, Dan’s wife. He didn’t stand over her and talk down to her. He sat in front of her, held her hands, then, with a drawing, showed her exactly what he had done. He told her that he came to a point where he had to make a decision as to whether or not to do an ileostomy (an ileostomy is to bring a loop from the ileum to the outside of the body (much like a colostomy, which most of you are familiar with). He smiled and said, “Dan won’t be too happy about that, but I’ll talk to him about it.” Then he smiled his warm smile. “It is temporary and will allow the bowel to heal well.” He then said, “I thought about which to do, and my heart told me to go with the ileostomy.” I could not believe I was listening to an MD. There was no arrogance whatsoever. He talked about doing what his heart told him, factoring that into his decision. I don’t know if you can imagine what humility this doctor possesses. I felt I was in the presence of a saint. I know this sounds melodramatic, but it is an honest assessment. My sister and I talked about this later, and we both felt like Dad was there. All of this is so out of the ordinary. I am not trying to be maudlin, but to tell you exactly what happened. We, as a family, were all blessed that day. Dr. Parikh never brought up the subject of money or concerned himself about his being paid. He followed God’s path for himself and my brother.
I cannot put into words the gratitude I feel for this incredible doctor. Nothing I could say would be enough. I just want all of you to know that this special doctor exists, and we have been the recipients of his skills, caring and love. All of the cancer is gone.
Sending you my warm wishes. It has been quite a week for our family.
Mae Julian
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