Give me a hand

September 22, 2006

By Karen Carvell

Seldom was it so warm in Upper Michigan, but this day it was. The cold water my son and I were spraying on each other was a welcome relief from the heat. Our wrestling over the garden hose came to an abrupt end, however, as my finger snapped.

I couldn’t move it. It hurt, but not like I thought it should if it had been broken. Strangely, it didn’t work.

An X-ray revealed not just a broken finger, but some type of growth within the bone. Further examination was required.

It appeared to be a cancerous growth. I needed a full body bone scan. They were looking for “hot spots” that might reveal other cysts or bone cancer. Years earlier I was healed of ovarian cancer. Now fear and doubt took their place in my mind.

My finger was splinted all summer. The doctor hoped it would heal, and no other areas in my body were noted.

Fervent prayer went up to the Lord on my behalf.

Another X-ray was taken. The growth appeared to be spreading. The plan of treatment was to remove my finger. The doctor was concerned it may have moved down into my hand.

“We may have to remove half the hand,” he warned.

“Please take one more look; I believe God is healing me.”

He nodded hopelessly, and agreed to order another X-ray. A little later, he returned to the examination room holding the X-ray up to the light.

My doctor had the most astonished look as he proclaimed, “I have never seen anything like this. It’s shrinking! The growth is encapsulated in a calcified shell!”

He would see me in surgery in two weeks to remove it. “I want to see what it is,” said the doctor. “We’ll put a bone graft from you hip into the finger. We don’t have to take the hand.”

He smiled.

I cried, “Thank you, Lord.”

Wayne and Karen Carvell pastor Church on a Hill in Savanna, Ill.