Chapter 1: A FRIGHTFUL MORNING

In life, there will be troubles that will pull you down to your limit. However, it is not hopeless until you stop hoping. Living is not meaningless until you stop dreaming. There is always a chance to rebuild after destruction no matter how catastrophic it may have been…

I would like to share my story in the hope that the readers may be encouraged in the faith. God is good all the time…

It Is Not Meaningless!

At a young age of fourteen, I had tasted one of the fiery tests one could ever experience in this transient earthly existence. It was the end of school year 1985, Recognition Day. I could not attend the school rites because I was down with a fever, which had been on and off for about a week. I felt weaker that morning. Then after I went to the bathroom, suddenly I just could no longer stand on my feet. I got scared. “This is just a simple weakness, I only need to rest,” I comforted myself. However, deep inside, I was so scared that I did not want to sleep the following evening. I continued the medicines that the doctor prescribed but I did not get any better.

Extremely worried, my parents rushed me to a hospital early the next day for a thorough check up but the doctors said that I had to stay. I felt I was getting worse in each passing hour. Later on, my attending physician made his initial diagnosis. I could not forget my attending physician’s words when he said, “It is paralysis!” I did not want to believe it. Immediately, the attending physician referred me to a neurologist. He came later in the afternoon and made some routine tests. He asked me to lift my feet or move them but I could not do it. He confirmed the diagnosis, “it is a case of paralysis”. They did a series of blood tests to determine what was causing it. Later in the night, I could no longer urinate normally so a nurse had to insert a catheter into my urethra.

I was lying flat on my back on a soft hospital bed trying to convince myself that things were going to be fine. My eyes roamed around the four corners of the small double-bed private room I occupied. The air-con was cool but I was not feeling comfortable. I was feeling very tired as if I had played basketball the whole day without relief. I wanted to sleep. Not long after that, I noticed the door became busy. Nurses would come in and out, bringing in equipment I did not know. They brought in an oxygen tank at my bedside upon doctor’s orders. I was puzzled…

>Chapter 2: On Death’s Edge

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