Yesterday I visited a new chiropractor and x-rays were part of the exam. I noticed a quizzical look on his face as he reviewed the films. It wasn’t my spine that gave him pause, it was these spots on the film making him wonder if there was something wrong with the equipment—he then asked me if I had any metal in my shoulder. Oh yeah, I guess there is, “Shrapnel”, I said, which didn’t seem to give his quizzical look any relief.
I try not to go into the whole story if I can help it—it can make people feel uncomfortable and awkward. However, if they ask, I tell them about our miracle, especially when it is right there, on film. It has always been a miracle, but the trauma attached to the miracle brings a lump to my throat or a catch in my stomach, so sharing as at times been difficult, especially with strangers.
The small victory is that yesterday, it was simply a matter of fact, no deep breaths or momentary “catch”, I hadn’t even given it a thought until he asked. Trust me, this is unusual since I can still remember feeling uneasy about metal detectors at the airport (which proved to be no big deal) and sometimes routine medical questions at a check-up can leave me uneasy. Like when a nurse inquires about body piercings because of tests like MRI’s, saying, “we have to ask because it can rip metal out of your body”—yah, that kind of thing stays with me for a few minutes. Fortunately, I have not needed an MRI, so we will just cross that bridge should the occasion arise.
Yesterday was just the story of a miracle. Though brief, it left an unmistakable impact; he was speechless, yet, not from discomfort, from awe. Looking at the films, looking at me—yes, a miracle indeed, which is a good reason to stop and really drink it in. And victory for me, to boot! I love how God’s goodness touches so many places all at the same time.☺