Oh my, I was SO sick! My temperature was 104 and I was lying lifeless on the bed when our family doctor came walking in the bedroom, black bag in hand. This was back in the day when a doctor was a real family doctor; didn’t specialize in anything in particular and doctored everyone in the family. And, he made house calls even in the middle of the night.
That day, he punched and probed and examined. Every time he touched my skin I would cringe.
“Looks like tonsillitis to me again, young lady.” He finally declared. “I think when you get over this bout we better consider having those old tonsils removed.” I was too sick to care; too sick to even comprehend what he was saying.
He removed a big bottle from his black bag and poured some into a big, brown bottle.
“Give this to her every four hours, day and night”, he said to my Mother. Then he turned and patted me on the head.
“You’ll be well in no time. You take the medicine for your Mother like a good girl and I’ll be back to see about you tomorrow on my way to the office.”
Out the door he went; this Miracle Worker in his dark brown jacket and clean white shirt with a tie. His dark pants were almost the color of the doctor bag he carried in his right hand. He was such a kindly doctor. He always wore a smile and even though his hair was getting thin on top and he was getting up in years, it didn’t seem to slow him down at all. He was the doctor who delivered me and had been our family doctor ever since.
In a few days, I was well enough to go to Dr. C.’s office. His office was on the square in our little town, just above the drug store that his sister-in-law owned. We trugged up the stairs and sat in the waiting room until he came to the door and called my name.
Inside the office was a big examining table right in the middle of the room. There were tall cabinets here and there; some had glass and you could see pill bottles on the shelves. Some contained instruments with plenty of clean white cotton towels nearby. . I was a skinny thing and he was always concerned I wasn’t eating enough. So after standing me on the scale to see how much I had gained, he would say,
“Are you eating good for your Mother?”
I’d shake my head up and down and he would reach in a big drawer in one of the tall cabinets in his office.
“I think you better take these vitamins anyway.” And he handed them to my mother. “Now, hop up here, little lady, and let’s have a look see.” He looked down my throat after inserting an instrument that felt as big as a shovel. “Now, say ‘Ah’”.
I was going to gag, gag, gag! I hated that instrument and I hated anybody invading the privacy of my throat. I didn’t care if my throat looked red. After all, red was my favorite color.
“Well, it does look better. But, I think in a few days, we better consider getting those old tonsils out of there.” Now I was more alert; did he say take my tonsils out? Over my dead body would some old doctor take out my tonsils! No one; not even this kindly old doctor that I loved was going to take my tonsils out……..NO ONE!
The next week or so was quite an experience for a little nine year old girl who had never been inside a hospital.
We all know that Jesus is the Great Physician. However, He also heals through doctors. God not only heals those who are physically ill, but He heals those who are sick in spirit. He is truly The Great Physician.
“But when Jesus heard that, he said unto them, they that be whole need not a physician but they that are sick.” Matthew 9:12 KJV
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