In our home, there was a phrase that was repeated often and with confidence, "When Dad gets to Heaven, he will have a straight back." This was our complete assurance. In Heaven, Dad's back would be healed.
Dad has ankylosing spondylitis, a degenerative spine disease which is associated with arthritis. His spine fused throughout his early twenties, leaving his back curved and his neck unable to turn. I would always say to people that he couldn't turn his head or throw a ball overhand, but other than that he was just fine. He doesn't complain and has been content to live his life this way.
About a year ago, stiffness and pain settled into his routine and started to hamper regular activities. Walking distances and riding his bike became great challenges. Through many visits with a young arthritis doctor, who was full of new ideas and treatments, she eventually determined there was nothing more she could do for him and sent him on his way. Much of his pain was beginning to center around his hips and they knew that the arthritis was now affecting them. She recommended that he see an orthopedic doctor to discuss hip replacements. After he met and assessed Dad, he was not eager to do surgery at this time- due to anethesia concerns and possible mechanical failure due to Dad's posture. Although he desparately needed them, healing successfully would be hampered by the curve of his back and it was a risk he would not recommend in his current condition. The prognosis was bleak and lacked any encouragement. Faced with no further treatment options or hope from either of these medical sources, a wheelchair was quickly becoming a looming reality.
In November, Mom was sorting through items, attempting to clean and organize papers. She came across an article that had run in the local newspaper in 2002. It featured a gentleman, diagnosed with Dad's same disease, anklosing spondylitis, who had received surgery to straighten his back. The article included a picture and diagrams of his spine before and after.
In 2002, Dad found it interesting enough to cut out and look at, but did not wish to pursue this man's story any further. Dad was doing just fine, and had learned to live life quite comfortably with his disease. An operation in '79 which had left him in a body cast, lying in a hospital bed for seventy-seven days, had been enough to help him to determine that he was not interested in another surgery for his back. The treatment had not been effective in the longterm. The sacrifice had been too great. Another surgery was not at all something of interest.
But when Mom saw it this fall, the need and the hope it ellicited was unparalleled. We were looking at a picture of a man who had been straightened 10 years ago. What could they possibly do for Dad now? Could this be the hope we had been left without just a year before? Would it be something Dad could benefit from now, in light of the need to walk strong again?
The article did not list a doctor, just a health organization's website. Through some time of searching the computer, we landed on a doctor in Buffalo, a meer one hour from Dad and Mom. His website had articles about ankylosing spondylitis, some authored by himself. Was he the doctor who fixed the man in the newspaper that Mom had been carrying around since November?
In the first few days of this year, a phone call to his office brought great hope to our hearts. His secretary emphatically stated that he was an expert in his field, and that Dad needed to come see him. She had an opening in February and thought to schedule Dad's appointment for that time. As she talked more with Mom and listened as she shared Dad's story and his present condition, she said she knew the doctor would only be happy with her if she squeezed him in earlier. Would 2 weeks from now work? she asked. Would it? Of course! The appointment was set, January 18.
The doctor was not in the office that week, the secretary had mentioned. He was at a conference where he was lecturing. His topic? Ankylosing spondylitis.
We prayed through those weeks leading up to his appointment. I found myself praying for this doctor to be the hands of the miracle that Dad needed. I also prayed for our hearts to be prepared to hear whatever news the Lord was going to allow that doctor to deliver to us. Hope was impossible to hold back.
Merely waiting until the appointment time did not prove to be so simple. Tuesday night, the evening before the doctor's appointment, while enjoying a visit with a dear friend, a loud crack and resounding thud startled them. There were high wind warnings for that night from 7:00 p.m. to 12:00 a.m. It was 7:55 p.m. In that moment, a huge pine tree had succombed to the wind, swept the edge of their house, and landed on both of their vehicles. So many branches covered the area around and all over the cars, that it was hard to assess the damage in the dark. One thing they knew, all of Dad's medical records that they had been collecting for two weeks were inside the smashed van. Mom climbed through branches, shattered glass, and bent metal in an attempt to retrieve them, but was unable to get the door open. Within a short while, they had relayed their wind story to Grandma, and were returning home with her borrowed car, the car to get them to the doctor appointment the next day.
Wednesday morning brought great help and encouragement. Dad's brother and nephew were there with chainsaws and muscles to uncover the damaged cars. Their hard work reduced the toppled tree to pieces, and the wrecker was able to haul away the van for assessment, but not before Uncle Darryl pulled the medical records from inside. In leaving for the appointment, they discovered that Grandma's car tire was going flat and that also had to be left at the garage. Quick thinking and more generosity, landed them in the next borrowed vehicle of a friend.
Sitting ten and a half hours away from all of this, waiting upon every text or phone call, was hard. With all that had happened in the 12 hours prior to the appointment, what other obstacles might appear? We had only been waiting two weeks for this appointment, yet really maybe we had been waiting my whole lifetime.
They told me later how it went. I cried through every word. They entered the doctor's office, and hanging on his wall in the lobby was a framed copy of the newspaper article. The very one that Dad had cut from the local paper nearly 10 years before. This had to be the doctor that helped that man!
After x-rays and waiting, they met the doctor. His message was calm and assured. He could straighten Dad. It would be through a procedure called an osteotomy. He would cut a wedge in the curved part of Dad's spine. He would close the gap using bone grafts and stabilizing the spine with rods on both sides. This process would straighten him. He would not stand perfectly straight, because then he could only look straight out, since his neck would still not be able to move. He would leave him tilted at such an angle where he would be able to see down in front of him, as well as be able to look straight ahead. It would be a 3-4 hour operation, followed by a day in the ICU and 1-2 days in recovery. He would come home with a brace and recover for four to six months. Within ten months, he would be healed enough to revisit an orthopedic doctor and get those hip replacements.
All of our hopes and our prayers were being answered in the most astounding message from this doctor. We haven't made it to Heaven yet, and we are hearing that Dad is going to have his "straight back" here, on this Earth.
Surgery was not delayed.
It is scheduled for February 15, 2012. It has been two weeks now of unbelievable news and excitement. I tell whoever will listen, some who have not met my Dad. I try to express what this means to him, to us. It is hard to find big enough words to hold the emotion and feelings. I sometimes express it in these terms. Todd loved our Dad dearly and did all he could to help around home. We feel like one of the first things he would have wanted to talk to Jesus about when he got to Heaven was our Dad. I think they probably talked at length about him, and in God's gracious way, He lead Mom to uncover that newspaper article. To find it when Dad needed it the most, when we all needed it the most.
We ask for your prayers for Dr. Simmons and his team on February 15. Please pray for my Dad. He is so brave to do this. We have always been so proud of our Dad and Mom. Their courage together to face these operations is astounding. Please pray for them through this time where God is going to use earthly hands to heal Dad in ways we only dreamed would happen in Heaven.
