I hate MRI’s. Dread them. But since I have MS, they’re inevitably a part of my life. Over the past nine years that I’ve been dealing with this disease, I’ve tried every trick in the book to stave off the panic attacks that come laying inside a small tube for over an hour. I’ve listened to the headphones—as if you can even hear them with all the banging going on. I’ve taken the anxiety medicine. I’ve tried focusing on my breathing. But in the end, I’ve only found one thing that works, and that’s prayer—both mine and others.
This past Thursday I had another MRI. I posted on my Facebook page how scared I was and immediately friends and family began assuring me of their prayers. Over the course of the day, people popped by my office or called to let me know they would be praying for me.
When I came home to get ready for my appointment, I made the either very brave or very bad decision to skip the medicine for anxiety I had on hand. I decided to forge ahead armed with the knowledge that at that very moment lots of people were asking God to help me out. And you know what? It worked.
Once inside the tube, I added my own repetitive prayers to the others being offered on my behalf. Before I knew it, I had Hail Mary’d, Glory Be’d and Our Father’d my way through the hour-plus long test and was on my way.
On the drive home, I asked my husband, Mark—who has walked this journey with me–whether or not he thought the prayers made a difference. He said he did, but the important thing was whether or not I felt they made a difference.
And I do. In the upcoming weeks, I’ve got some further steps to take forward in dealing with this disease. Knowing I’ve got prayers helping me along the way sure does help.
So if you’ve got a moment or two, could you spare a prayer? I sure would appreciate it.
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