Some of my best experiences were in the ICU units, which I frequented as a healing service to patients the medical world had almost given up on. I never charged a penny for my healing service, transport, food or anything else. I never accepted gifts or any payment in kind. Unfortunately, there was one occasion when a family gifted me a jacket and insisted that I take it. I was too exhausted to argue then and reluctantly took it but immediately gave it away.
Going in and out of hospital wards, I became known as ‘The Healer’ I would always correct the nurses and remind them that God is the healer, not me. I learned to humour them with ‘better a healer than a dealer’. It always made them giggle.
Most of the patients and their families would be desperate for help. They often welcomed me warmly and tried to fuss over me, but I would try to pull away and insist on seeing the patient immediately.
I kneel at the patient’s bedside and open up with The Lord’s prayer. I take my time in prayer and ask to be allowed as an instrument for the service. Then I pray for the patient and ask that they be healed if that is God’s will. I find myself in a daydreaming state, and it is a delightful feeling. I gently hold the patient’s hand, which feels colder than mine. Some patients, if conscious, try to engage in conversation, but I ask them to close their eyes and relax.
If the healing is meant to take place, I start to ‘fade out’, almost as if I am anaesthetised and pleasantly drifting away. I am no longer conscious of time or even profoundly of my surroundings and whereabouts. It is a pleasant detachment and an incredible feeling I can never describe. Eventually, I am made to return to myself, knowing that my service is complete for the day. I am an empath, I take on the negative or stale energies of the patients. Sometimes, I also take on their pain or deep sadness. I have often inexplicably broken down in tears after healing. The patient’s loved ones usually try to offer limited support, but all I want is to be back home because I start to feel unwell. At home, I slump in bed, shivering and cold. I sometimes cry more. I begin to spiral in and out of consciousness, and anxiousness sets in. I feel nauseous and may end up throwing up a few times; it brings some relief.
My wife supports me with food and reassures me; she kisses me and wipes my face with a cold towel. She told me that I may become incoherent at times, as if delirious. I sleep alone or rather pass out eventually. If I am lucky, the symptoms from the night before would have passed, and the next day, although still feeble, I help myself to a strong black coffee and try to distract myself with something to watch on TV. Sometimes, I lose my appetite, and sometimes I feel starving. There was one healing experience that affected me very deeply. It was for a young man who nearly died in a car crash. It was so profound I could barely walk out of the hospital and don’t recall how I ended up home. I remember occasionally coming around and seeing my wife’s tearful face. She later told me that I was in bed for three days, and I had not eaten or spoken. She was worried that I might not make it. I later learned that the young man, who was considered brain-dead, took a walk in the hospital corridor and was discussing football with his surgeon. Everyone, including myself, was ecstatic. Despite the agony and turmoil, I felt delighted.
Miracles DO happen…
Note: I am sorry to share such a long post. This post is not about me but you, the reader. I pray that the Light may find its way into your hearts and bless your households, whoever and wherever you may be.