THE MISSION

When I got home Sunday night, I asked my Dad to call out all the troops. I was no longer going to go it alone, now I needed everyone to know, and everyone to remember me in their prayers.

So today, I got many, many calls, from cousins, aunts, and uncles. It still hurts to breathe heavy or to cough. I should have brought home my incentive spirometer. I think if I am going to be in bed much longer, I should wear anti-embolic stockings or something.

The call that really touched me today was from one of my aunts, who is very devoutly religious. She told me that she was praying very hard for me, and that Jesus would help me feel better, because I have a mission. She reminded me that I have patients that rely on me, that I am a kind, skillful, and compassionate doctor, and that I do God’s work each day. My children, my husband, are part of that mission, too. Jesus will make me better, because I have a reason to live. So many people suffer, she said, and they search for their mission in life. I am already blessed with a mission, and for this reason, I will be saved.

And I started to feel better.