On a warm Wednseday night in August of 2010 I went to sleep feeling fine as always, only to wake up with a Type 2 spontaneous Pneumothorax (collapsed lung). Spontaneous Type 2 meaning it was not caused by trauma or any sort of intrusion - it’s just something that happened. There are several thousand cases of this illness each year (in Canada). It mostly occurs to tall skinny males.
What made my case a bit worse than others is the fact that after my pleural cavity was drained of air my left lung did not re-seal itself. Usually your lung is supposed to stop leaking air into your chest after a couple of days at which point the chest tube is removed and you are discharged from care.
On Sunday morning of that week I met with my team of 3 surgeons who advised me that the smartest thing at this point would be to go through a surgical procedure where they literally staple the lung shut and stick it back to the inside of your chest. I agreed.
After the meeting, I did something I have never done. Being in a Catholic hospital, I attended the Sunday mass. The mass that day was dedicated to Saint Lawrence - martyr/deacon.
I don’t know why, but instead of choosing to pray to God, I chose to pray to Saint Lawrence. I told him how much I admired his bravery when he was faced with a situation where the world stood right against him. I told him how much I hated the fact he had to sacrifice his own life to protect the greater good. I asked Saint Lawrence to forgive me and my sins - to heal me.
I went to the chapel on Monday morning as well and said another prayer to Saint Lawrence. By Monday afternoon my lung was completely sealed and I was discharged from the hospital the next day.
With all my heart, I believe this was the sole work of Saint Lawrence…and no one will ever be able to tell me otherwise.
I was born into a mixed family. Father is a Muslim and mother is Eastern Orthodox.
I was brought up with a leaning toward Islam - a religion I learned to despise later on in life.
I believe in God. I do not believe in the bible (or any religious texts). Men write books - not God. When the bible and religious texts were written everybody was messed up on alcohol and all kinds of wack stuff - (remember, there was barely any clean water back in the day and alcohol was the drink of choice for thousands upon thousands of years).
I’ve read the bible on more than one occasion and from my understanding, most of it is a one way conversation between God and the Jews. I am not a Jew. I have nothing to relate to in the biblical texts.
This past weekend I got into a fight with about 4 or 5 people (don’t remember). Basically I almost lost my life. This has got me thinking about my spiritual identity/purpose in the world, etc.
I want to be a part of something. But how can I be a part of the Church when I think that the doctrine is nothing but bs on a silver plate? Maybe I should just stick with worshiping Saint Lawrence?