I’ve had back pain for 25 years. Most of it is chronic pain
from accidents sustained in my youth (relatively speaking) and a staff
infection that decided to put down deep roots in my back about 5 years ago. The
doctor who operated to remove it said there would be no residual pain and no
scar. I have both pain and a scar and LOTS of scar tissue, which is now my main
issue. Recently the pain has become more severe and a few weeks ago it actually
became disabling.
So like in the states you have to see your primary doctor
before you can be referred to a specialist. I went to my insurance providers
clinic. They told me that I could get a scan and go for physiotherapy. I knew
what I needed was a chiropractor but the doctor who saw me told me that my
insurance didn’t refer to chiropractors. At this point the dire pain and
frustration of having to take an expensive taxi into Nairobi to be told the
treatment I wanted was not available to me was so discouraging that I just left
the doctor’s office without even getting a referral. So maybe this wasn’t the
brightest move…but like I said, I wasn’t in any condition to be logical.
Which I proved ten-fold when I promptly told my daughter
that I knew there was a chiropractor that I had visited 5 years ago when I had
a similar problem…somewhere close to where we were. I am operating only on
memory at this point. So we head off on foot across Nairobi to where I am sure
there is a chiropractor’s office.
Miracles of all miracles, the chiropractor’s office is still
there. And my “important-fact poor but directionally-rich memory got us there
in about 20 minutes. I walked in quite sure that the good Lord had led me to
immediate healing only to be told that the doctor wouldn’t be able to see me
until next week. Almost in tears and too tired and frustrated to talk, I stumbled
out of the office and continued down the street. I bought Judie and I juice and
cookies and we headed to my friend Joe’s office, which was another 10-minute
walk away. We rested and recounted our morning of woe and then Joe dropped us
at a matatu stage so we could go home. I was going to tough out the pain on the
matatu…no more over-priced taxis for me!
Once home I got on FB and went to my church’s FB page and
asked if anyone knew of a chiropractor in Karen. Within minutes I had the
number to the only chiropractor in Karen. (FYI – there are only 8 licensed
chiropractors in all of Kenya). The next morning I called and was given an
appointment for that afternoon. Praise God!
I meet my Kenyan doctor, a Iowa-educated muslim, who has
worked in Texas for the past two years and has been back in Kenya for exactly
two weeks. After a short assessment he determines my back is, “a mess.”
He proceeds to use all sorts of treatments I’ve never hear
of that are immensely painful and get this – THEY WORK! My pain is reducing and
I’m feeling stronger everyday!
I’ve bought a corset for my motorcycle rides into the
bush…although I went to put it on for the first time five minutes before I was
supposed to leave to go to Ilkiloret and the corset was too big!
So I said a really fast prayer to GOD, “why me…again! PLEASE
keep the pain at bay.”
And guess what – IT WORKED! The pain was minimal.
So here’s what this life lesson has taught me. BE PATIENT! Twenty-five
years may seem like a lot to receive healing, even finding the right doctor was
a frustrating process. But I would not have found the doctor with the new
techniques that are actually getting rid of the mounds of scar tissue my body
has accumulated.
So hey God, this bit is for you – I’m ready to be patient…or
at least try harder at being patient. I know you are at work in the world and
in my tiny piece of it and in me, today and everyday. Thank you for blessing me
with healing, please continue to heal every part of my life that is broken.
Amen!
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