I was a kid. I was around 11 or 12 years old, in the early 1971 or 1972. It was another day that I remembered everything that happened so vividly. My mother said the doctor told her that I had polio and that was why. I believed her for years. But looking back in time, I realized it was another reason. She probably would never even think of the real reason, but I do. That morning, she had another bad day. Whenever she had a bad day, I would have to deal with whatever came my way from her. She is old now. I don’t want to talk about it. We all are taking good care of her. But she sure left a lot of scars on her children.
That afternoon, I started feeling unwell. I went to lie down on the sofa and put the TV on to watch while lying down.
That evening when she came home, she saw me lying down and started yelling that I was lazy and lying down on the sofa. She was yelling at me to get up so she could sit on the sofa. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t move.
She put her hand on my forehead and said something. I don’t remember. All I remember was she was left and came back with the neighbor next door. He carried me on his back and to a car (taxi or his, I don’t remember). My mom drove me to the hospital that evening. It was late into the night. The road had very few cars driving on it.
The hospital said something to her. And they carried me again to the car and went to another hospital. There, they left me. They put me down on the bed and I was just staying there. I was only allowed a liquid type of diet, no solid. I remembered the nurses came in several times to check on me, gave me medicine, and fed me liquid food. All the time I was lying down. I was in my own room.
A week went by or maybe more, I don’t know. One day, the nurse and the doctors came into my room and asked me to get up and they helped me. They then asked if I would try to walk. And they helped me.
The first step on the ground, my leg gave way, buggled and I fell on the floor. I remember that day. The nurses helped me up and tried again to get me to stand up and eventually, I did. They asked me to walk a few steps. My legs didn’t know what to do. They left. They came back another day, and asked me to try to walk again. They helped me. And eventually, I was able to walk. They then transferred me to a big room filled with patients.
Eventually, I went home. I thank God everyday for the grace and miracle. My mom told me that I had polio and I was lucky to walk again. But I know now, coincidentally, she had a bad day that morning. And I was the kid that was there that morning to have to deal with her bad day.
Looking back in time, I want to thank the Lord for his miracle and grace.