Although going to a hospital was not my choice, I ended up being taken to one when a loving and concerned family member called for an ambulance one day after I had a health scare. After I was admitted, nurses rolled me down a hall where I read the words “Stroke Unit” on the wall. My grandmother had passed away at a young age from a stroke, and I began to feel fearful. I let discouragement get the best of me.
The next morning, I was informed I would be moved to rehabilitation for the next two weeks. Almost immediately after that, I had another episode. A nurse put me in a wheelchair and sent me right back for more tests. Then I was rolled into a dimly lit room to wait. I sat there in the quiet and reached out to God in prayer.
Thirty-four years earlier, doctors had predicted that I would die from cancer. I had turned to Christian Science and was fully healed (see “Diagnosed cancer healed,” Journal, December 2001). Since that healing I had always totally relied on Christian Science, and I knew I could rely on it now.
