A variety of treatments would be required to rectify the autoimmune disorder that was causing my severe anemia. Appointments were made with a local oncologist and I began weekly treatments with more drugs. These medicines would weaken my immune system in an attempt to “reboot” my body. But in spite of the dangers and potential setbacks, God’s provision and spectacular medical care would make right the errant systems weakening my body and my strength would once again begin to return. Thankfully, I didn’t miss a step at work, therapy, or at home.
As I became more and more mobile, it became clear that a return visit to the National Institutes of Health was a distinct possibility. Up to this point in my recovery, my sole method of locomotion had been my power chair. I required it to move around my world, lifting me up to surfaces and reclining me ever so often into a pressure release position.
But as my strength increased, I found myself able to transfer to manually powered chairs and even walk short distances with a walker. This meant that travel by a car other than my ramp-equipped van, and airplane was much more plausible. Soon arrangements were made for Jodi and I to make a trip to Maryland.
It had been two years since my transplant.
Jodi and I both felt the excitement of seeing these amazing medical professionals again. These men and women who for six months had worked so diligently to save my life. Even though some had moved on to other places of service, and I didn’t even remember others, the faces of those that remained were seared into the memory of my wife. She would never forget the grace that they bestowed on us: our favorite snacks from Trader Joes; Mt Dew jello when I wasn’t allowed to swallow thin liquids; and a trip to the relaxation room; just to name a few.
We called ahead to make sure that the airports and airlines were expecting us, and then, leaving my power chair behind for the first time in two years, I transferred into the front seat of Jodi’s car, and we headed off on our grand adventure. A great experiment in what my body would be capable of, and a testimony to the goodness of God in my life.
The flight and transfers occurred flawlessly. Our friends at the NIH handled all of the details for our transport. We were greeted with a driver at the airport in Washington and a wheelchair for our trip to the hospital. We made it to the Safra Family Lodge at the NIH an hour later and were eventually shown to our handicapped accessible room. We couldn’t wait to see our friends and the next few days didn’t disappoint.
Our time was filled with bloodwork, tests and scans. Appointments with the various teams that had taken such good care of me during my half-year in residence, interspersed with other special stops along the way. We made our way to the transplant floor, visited our friends on the 5th floor, stopped by to see our Chaplain friend John, and even ran into my sweet acupuncture therapist in the hallway.
Everyone was amazed at what God had done and exclaimed their delight as I showed them all of my new tricks. But we shared a solemn moment when we returned to the MRI waiting room.
There in the corner remained the row of chairs where Jodi sat with my nurse as doctors brought me back to life. For a moment we paused and reflected on just how far God had brought us: from death’s door, to standing up, walking between parallel bars in the same physical therapy gym where just two years before they had been forced to tell me that I would not be going home as we had hoped. The same room where they would have to clean up after me, because I wasn’t able to control all of my bodily functions. Now, because of God’s goodness, I was showing off, moving my arms and legs. Standing, and laughing. Tears would fill everyone’s eyes in those few days at the NIH as we recalled how scared we all were, how hopeless we all felt, and how dark the night seemed.
Weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.
Psalm 30:5b
We hugged necks, said our goodbyes and headed back to the airport. Back to our lives in Tennessee. On to the next challenge. God was continuing to do amazing things in our lives, and my next milestone would be my most favorite yet!
Jeremy Powell 