Saint Luke is the patron saint of
doctors, and as I write his feast day (October 18) is just around the corner.
So it seemed appropriate to use this space to reflect on God’s care and
provision through my recent surgery and convalescence.
I first learned that I was going to have heart surgery in
the middle of May. A couple of years before that, my doctor had detected a
heart murmur on his stethoscope and had referred me to a cardiologist who had
been giving me regular echocardiograms. There had been a gradual deterioration
in my mitral valve and now it had reached the point where surgery had become
necessary.
That came as quite a blow to me, as in all outward ways I
felt perfectly healthy and was rather proud to be involved in a rather
strenuous exercise routine without ever becoming weak or tired. (This shows how
appearances can be so deceiving!)
In any case, that diagnosis was followed two days later by
one of our monthly services of prayer and healing. Phyllis Bruce and the other
members of the healing team put a good deal of prayer and careful preparation
into that service each month and it was evident that night. The opening song
was “Spirit of God, descend upon my heart” and throughout the service Phyllis
spoke repeatedly about how the Lord desires to bring healing to our hearts. Of
course Phyllis was not speaking about our physical hearts but metaphorically,
and she knew nothing about the news from my cardiologist. Yet I felt that the
service was meant for me, and through it the Holy Spirit certainly ministered
to me that night.
In July I had my first visit to the Mayo Clinic. For two
days I went through a number of tests and interviews. In many ways everything
was still rather unreal for me, as I continued to feel the picture of health.
It was another blow at the end of that time to meet with my cardiac surgeon and
discover that there was evidence of blockage in the arteries supplying my
heart. As a result I would be undergoing full open-heart surgery.
Five weeks later I was at Mayo again, this time in
preparation for the surgery itself. This began with an angiogram—and that was
when the third blow came. “Mr Newton,” the doctor told me, “we have decided to
admit you immediately to the hospital.” He then informed me that my main
coronary artery was 90% obstructed and two others were at 80%. And so I spent
the next two days in the hospital waiting for my surgery, all the while feeling
as healthy as a horse.
However, it was clear that the Lord had been looking after
me all along. Had my doctor not been concerned about that heart murmur years
before, we never would have come to know about those blockages, which in
reality were considerably more life-threatening than the mitral valve problem. Not
only that, but to be here at the Mayo Clinic with access to some of the most
advanced health care that the world has to offer.
Well, I suppose the rest is history. The surgery and my
recovery have all gone smoothly thus far—and I am not in any doubt that a huge
component of that has been your prayers for me. There were times, especially in
the hospital, when that support was palpable. So again (and not for that last
time), thank you for those prayers. I can’t tell you how much it means to me—and
how good it is to be back among you.
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