As a young woman, I suffered from that popular disease known as hypochondria. I was very fearful about whatever I heard on television and radio about diseases. Name a symptom, or disease, and I thought I had it.
In 1986, my worst fears were realized when I discovered a hard lump in my breast. I rushed to a doctor who sent me for a mammogram and then rushed me to a surgeon. I was told that the lump was a malignant tumor, and was advised to have a mastectomy right away. Not willing to immediately undergo such a risky and extreme procedure, I checked with another doctor and then another and then another—six in all. Each concurred with the first doctor's diagnosis. I still decided against a mastectomy, but chose to have the tumor removed. I was told that there were no guarantees that the operation would be a success.
A friend who had experienced spiritual healing through prayer on many occasions suggested that I talk to a friend of hers who was a Christian Science practitioner. But I also resisted calling the practitioner. "I'm not even a Christian," I protested. My friend smiled and assured me that it didn't matter. "Go to learn more about God, and about how to pray," she said. I made an appointment for a visit the week before I was to go to the hospital.
