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.
It still brings tears.