The baby was stuck. Really stuck. Though the head was out, the shoulders were not budging under the pelvic bones of the mother. We call it shoulder dystocia, and it is one of the few times when we struggle not to panic as minutes can make a difference in outcome. The baby's head was turning blue and no maneuvering was changing the situation. But adrenaline does some amazing things. With an outstretched arm and wrist bent around the shoulder, the doctor pushed on it with all of her might, ignoring the loud cracking noise and ripping of tissue, knowing this was the baby's only chance. And then the shoulders gave in and rotated and the baby was delivered. Blue and limp, but delivered. Babies have amazing resilience. Still, this wasn't a standard delivery. The doctor told the team working with the baby to check an X ray, because with the cracking noise, there was sure to have been an injury. (Broken bones heal easily; the alternative- brain injuries- do not). Remarkably, the baby did very well. There was no injury found. So the doctor turned her attention to the mother. Surely pelvic bones would not be broken, would they? She did a thorough examination and found nothing. The doctor sewed up the tear in the mother, vaguely feeling a pain in her right hand. It is not uncommon to be sore after exerting effort in a difficult surgery or delivery, so she tried to shrug it off. In fact, she did several other procedures that day and the next. But she knew something was not right. Her hand wasn't working anymore. She had an Xray and MRI. It was one of the worst hand injuries her doctors had seen- so rare, in fact, that they wanted to write it up as a case report. But the hand injury was devastating to my friend, the delivering physician. They told her she would never perform another procedure again. A bone had detached completely and one of her nerves (the Ulnar nerve) was nearly obliterated completely with the force of her hand at that odd angle.
She didn't believe them. Even as she went about her work, unable to use her right hand, she knew that God was going to heal her. She felt like a surgery was going to put the bone back in place and somehow that nerve would regrow in the right place and she would be able to use her hand again. God would heal her through the hands of a surgeon.
She was in church one Sunday when a recent college graduate asked if he could pray for her. Of course, she agreed. When they had finished, he looked into her eyes and said, matter-of-factly, "You are going to be healed." She replied, "I know. I have been praying about it and I believe that too. I get another MRI this week and hopefully I'll be able to have surgery." He looked at her and shook his head. "No. You are not going to need surgery. You are going to be healed."
Oh no, she thought. I am going to ruin this young man's faith. There is no way that bone can be fixed while floating in my arm. She even told her husband the same sentiment. Her husband looked at her and asked, "Well, does your hand feel better?" She shook it a bit. In fact, it did feel a bit better, but she dismissed it. She went for her MRI the next day, and then to the surgeon to see about surgery. He apologized profusely. They had the wrong images and he couldn't tell her anything yet. The surgeon called the hospital to see about the mistake but then gave up. He suggested just getting an Xray in the office so that he could tell her something that visit. When the Xray images were given to him, he sighed. "These are the wrong images too. Can you please give me her images?" The technician looked at the surgeon and said, "But I just took the pictures and walked them over to you. They have to be the right ones." The surgeon shook his head, comparing the prior MRI and prior Xrays with the ones he had in his possession now. It was impossible. There was no fragment of bone floating around that needed to be pinned. There was no nerve injury. There was no need for surgery. He didn't know what to say.
My friend started to smile. Indeed, they were the right images. She was completely healed, just like the young man at church had said. She could hardly wait to tell him the next week. "You were right. I am healed, and I don't need surgery." He looked at her, eyes sparkling. "That's my sign! I thought maybe the Lord was calling me to be a missionary, but I didn't think I had enough faith. Now I know that the Lord answered my prayer. I do have enough faith!"
Her surgeon was a bit disappointed at not getting to write that case report, unable to explain the healing. He asked my friend, "So what do you think healed your hand?" She smiled. "The power of prayer." He smiled reflexively. "Yeah I believe in that too. But really, what do you think healed your hand?"
So often we believe in the theory of prayer, but when an actual miracle comes from our prayers, we are caught in our disbelief.
She continues to do procedures, with only a twinge of pain at her elbow every once in a while. She is an excellent physician, and if you are ever in the area and need a doctor, I highly recommend her. Her name is Dr. Laci Waner. Praise the Great Physician, Jesus Christ.
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