DW and I went to Lourdes in 1985 while be-bopping around the continent. For some unknown reason, we just had to go there. Was not even baptized at the time. She, being Catholic, “suggested” that I cross myself with water from the grotto. I did, and began crying. Coincidentally, a week later we happened to stop in the path of Pope Saint John Paul II’s motorcade and received his apostolic blessing. Had no idea what it all meant. I was in R.C.I.A. the next year. Came into the Church at the Easter vigil 1987.
FF 21 years to 2008. Bear with me here. Cancer arrived. Bad cancer. Stage IV, 50+ tumors in my lymphatic system. Since then, I have relapsed twice, mutated into two different cancers and developed a third cancer from treatment. 18 anti-cancer drugs in nine regimens, five “salvage” regimens, three clinical trials, 1000+ years of background radiation, too many PET/CT scans and biopsies to remember, a stem cell transplant with the resulting graft-versus-host-disease, and from treatment: hypertension, type II diabetes, Osteoporosis, cataracts, peripheral neuropathy. Advised by a doctor last month that I had a 0.5% chance of being alive.
Our Blessed mother appeared to Saint Bernadette Soubirous.
The Patron Saint of those with bodily illness. I am crying as I type this.
Praise God.