Johann Quisumbing

By JQuisumbing

According to the dictionary, an adventure is defined as an unusual and exciting, typically hazardous, experience or activity, especially the exploration of unknown territory. I have been in many adventures and I have to say that my 3 months stint in the hospital, back in 2015, does qualify as an adventure. Trust me! It had all the makings.

Talk about danger, well, those three major operations into my neck were no picnic. I survived that but I almost starved to death by trying to eat… or I should accurately say, not eat their hospital food. I looked like one of those malnourished survivalists on ‘Naked & Afraid’.¹ It started when I had to endure being fed a liquid diet through a tube that went up my nostril then down into my stomach. I was elated when they pulled it out and I could eat solid food again. Unfortunately, their prescribed diet was… “blah!” I really thought that depression would hit me hard because my neck had to stay immobile for weeks on end. But no, it was the food that almost depressed me. However, to be fair, when someone snuck in a McDonald’s quarter-pounder for me to eat, on the first bite, I ended up spitting it out. It didn’t taste right. Except for the oatmeal and an occasional banana, nothing tasted right the whole time I was there. Drastic measures had to be taken. They started to feed me through my IV line. Believe me, the experience was no fun. I found out that it was actually the combination of my drug-cocktails and my inability to smell due to my constant use of the respirator which affected my taste buds and appetite. I discovered that for food to taste good, the senses for both smell and taste go hand in hand. Go figure, hahaha. 

Now, if both my arms could tell a tale, they too would describe their own harrowing adventures with an army of med-techs that visited me daily to poke and probe my veins for blood. The Bible said that life is in the blood. Well, they must have siphoned enough life out of me to supply the blood bank for years. Did you know that even when my veins shriveled up from abuse, they still wanted more? They were so relentless that they even brought in a scanning machine that lit up my arm causing the veins to glow, then eager fingers would jab away and suck me dry. I’ll tell you one thing, vampires have nothing on them when it comes to taking my crimson fluid. Putting jokes aside, the med-techs of the hospital did their jobs very well. I thank the Lord for them.

My adventure in the hospital also took a weird turn especially during my time in the ICU. When it comes to recovering from surgery, I am no stranger. Since I was young, I have been a veteran of 24 or so operations. But what I experienced after the last three can only be described as psychedelic. For the first time in my life, I learned about psychosis², first hand, and boy, my time in the ICU had produced some real whoppers. Whether from the drugs or my extended stay in the stark environment of my room, I had some of the weirdest dreams that carried even when I was half awake. 

I recalled one dream where I was trying to defuse a bomb. According to my nurse, I was telling her to defuse the bomb that was under the bed with a code hidden in my sheets. She actually played along. One time, I woke up thinking that I was suspended on the ceiling listening to my wife and my duty nurse plotting something about me. I was really out of it. I had this machine that was attached to my legs. It was basically massaging them to prevent blood clots, but in my drugged out state, it felt like my legs were being carved up. Then, when they put on compression stockings on me, it really felt like I was floating around… well, at least, my legs were anyway. In all honesty, being drugged out like that was something that I would prefer not go through again. I hope I have not been painting a bleak picture of my entire stay at the hospital. The hospital staff were all grand. Again, I thank the Lord for all of them. And not only them but I thank Him for the support of multitude of others, many who I have never met, from different fellowships, even from across the seas. They pleaded to the Lord for me and even provided funds. But what touched my heart was how my brothers, sisters and even my in-laws rallied just for me. To this day, I still feel that I am not deserving of it. You know, I cannot think of any other word that fits my experiences of the past several years; for that matter, my entire life was and will always be a blessing. 

Now, as there is light, darkness is not too far off. And so, darkness would ask, ‘If I am so blessed by the Lord, why did He still leave me to be paralyzed?’ Interesting question, especially when a close friend and my pastor miraculously can walk again after he broke his back in a motorcycle accident. All signs showed that he was paralyzed forever, but then 2 years later, the congregation of my church joyously watched a video of him pushing himself up onto his shaking legs. There was great celebration on the day when he returned to again take up the mantle of Head Pastor of Union Church of Manila. Some cannot help but make the comparison. Of course, a question like that was meant to put the Lord’s name in bad light. Fortunately, the Lord does not need defending, but He still has left it to the elect³ (of which I am apart) to give an answer to the world. 

For my part, the answer is simple. For my friend and Pastor, the Lord had a need for him to be able to walk so he could do the task assigned to him. Just as the young blind man of John 9 was healed of his blindness so that the assembled group of hypocritical religious leaders would see the power of God in him.⁴ As to myself, you judge.

Do you recall in part 1, when I declined the request for the prayer of my complete healing; that is, a miraculous healing where I would become physically normal? I did not refuse because of doubt. In fact, if it was His will, I would be up on my feet walking and running with no limp. None of you would recognize me, for I probably would be as tall and muscular as my brothers; and oh, a lot more good looking as well (hahaha). But the fact is, I am paralyzed and I truly have no resentment in me because of it. This is my perspective. If the Lord had predestined⁵ me to go down this difficult road, then I cannot help but be elated because deep down He knew I am up to the task. But first, He had to prepare me to face the realities of growing up disabled by sending people to mold me. 

Did you know that when I was growing up, I did not develop a self-pity mentality? And it is all because the Lord had set me up with loving siblings. I still fondly remember how my big brothers would let me be Superman, cape and all. They would pretend to be knocked out (exaggeratingly) as I playfully swung a punch. It was also nice to be picked first in the games we played. They never treated me any differently. They always had my back. One time, I was confronted by a bully. I was ready to face him by myself, but he backed down because my bulky brother stood towering behind me. When I was hospitalized, they rallied again for me even though they were so far apart. One brother, in particular, touched me dearly when he, with no hesitation, told the hospital that money was no object. 

As I see it, my early life experience can be compared to a soldier assembling his weapon after which he would go to the firing range. He cited his target, took aim, held his breath, and then squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened! His weapon looked good but there was something missing for his weapon to fire. Well, from 1957 to 1990, I thought I had everything that I needed, but I was not complete. That part of my story, I’ll tell you about in my next posting.

TO BE CONTINUED

Footnotes: [1] Naked and Afraid is an American reality series that airs on the Discovery Channel; [2] Psychosis refers to symptoms that happen when a person is disconnected from reality; [3] 1 Timothy 1:1 – Followers of Christ; [4] John 9:3; [5] Ephesians 1:11;

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