SISTERS AND BROTHERS

I experience it all again now, decades after the event. My wife Jane’s mind struggled to focus as she lay in the Chinese hospital in Hong Kong after weeks of splitting headaches and blackouts. Neither her doctors nor 1965 available technology offered an appropriate diagnosis.

The doctor at the foot of her bed was the personal physician of Madam Chiang Kai Shek. “Sounds like a cerebral aneurysm to me,” he said. “Get her to America for arteriography and treatment immediately.”

Within two hours buds of help and hope started blooming everywhere.

An un-named civil servant granted an exit visa on the spot.
A hero in the battle against the Communist take-over in China telephoned. “You don’t really know me, but I heard about your situation. You’ll need plane tickets. I can get them. If there’s a financial problem, let me know.”
A Jewish businessman phoned. “I have connections with the world’s best neuro-surgeon at Mt. Sinai Hospital in New York. I’ll ask him to take care of Jane. Don’t worry about the money.”

At our home things were frantic. How does one pack up 5 young children to accompany a barely conscious mother for a flight across the Pacific in 3 days time. Neighbors and friends from several countries and religious faiths came to pray, pack and wipe away tears.

Our home was just two blocks away from refugee squatter huts built of scrap lumber, cardboard and tin. From one of them a little girl was dispatched. “Here’s an orange for the sick lady and a bottle of beer for her husband.”

We carried Jane up the plane’s loading ramp. Our five young children followed. We paused for prayer as the jet lifted off.

The moment the “Fasten Seat Belt” sign was turned off a well-dressed woman approached the patient. “You need to recline further,” she said. “I’m putting you in my first class seat. I’ll help here with the kids.” She never even gave me her name.
Strong headwinds forced an unscheduled stop in Alaska. Finally came the descent into San Antonio where arrangements had been made for care. While Jane was being carried from the plane to a waiting ambulance a couple appeared. “We’ll take the kids home with us for the night. Don’t worry.”

The neurosurgeon doubted the accuracy of the Chinese diagnosis and ordered arteriography. Watching the monitor he exclaimed, “Well, I’ll be! There it is! An aneurysm in the right carotid next to the brain.”

Additional specialists were consulted. A silver clip around the bulge might not hold. Brain surgery seemed problematic. A conservative non-surgical drug-assisted approach was agreed upon.

The recovery period was long, but the line of people offering assistance was longer. From New Guinea to New York prayers were offered. A car was loaned. Meals were provided. Children’s clothes were bought. Dolls were given. And Jane was healed.

Thirty-five years later the aneurysm lies mute, but Jane’s’ voice is loud and clear as we affirm together the ancient Chinese saying, “Within the four seas all people are sisters and brothers.” And there is one God who loves and looks over us all.