I suffered a heart attack on December 11, 2008, and an operation placed two stents into my heart.
Initially, my recovery went well but about 30 hours later, while in the ICU ward of Scott and White Hospital, Temple, Texas, I began to experience total cardiac arrest and received defibrilation shocks to revive me.
After approximately seven of these episodes, over a four-hour timeframe, I asked for a priest to visit me. In the presence of another chaplain and my wife, the priest anointed me and laid hands on me.
I remember feeling relief and very content while I received the sacrament. My fears left me.
Afterwards, I went on to suffer four more cardiac arrest episodes/defibrilation shocks, and a second operation installed two additional stents into my heart.
I quickly began recovery again the evening of December 12 and was discharged from the hospital on December 16. I am still recovering well as of this writing.
I firmly believe that the peace and contentment I received during the anointing saved my life.


Bill
Copperas Cove, Texas
Saturday, December 27, 2008

In 2006 I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I went to our parish's monthly healing Mass to receive the Sacrament of the Sick.
I still had to have the recommened surgery and follow it up with radiation, but I was able to pursue my physical healing with the burden of fear lifted from my shoulders.
I felt the burden fall from me as Father Drew was anointing me in my parish church. The sacrament helped me to face bravely the unknown.
I am celebrating everyday of being a cancer survivor!

Texas
Friday, December 26, 2008

My story begins back in 2003 with my father having his third heart attack. He had been in a coma for about 65 hours when the doctors told us that there was nothing else to do for him and he needed to be taken off life support.
Before doing so, I asked my parish priest to come and give my father his final sacrament. Father David was honored and came immediately. We had a family prayer and the priest with the Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick.
Now about hour 70, my father was removed from support. His life was slipping away slowly. Then suddenly around hour 72, he fluttered his eyes, then moved his arm. Next, he opened his eyes and looked all around.
The neurosurgens said my father was nothing short of a miracle. They were amazed with his recovery.
After two months of therapy he was able to come home. The only aftereffect was some short- and long-term memory loss.
Now fast forward to today 11/19/2008: My father has severe chf and the doctors say he could pass at anytime. So once again I've called on the priest to give my father this great sacrament. I hope and pray things will work out as well as five ago. Please pray for us.


Robin
Pennsylvania
Wednesday, November 19, 2008

I have now received six of the seven sacraments of the Catholic Church, leaving only Holy Orders to be denied due to my somewhat advanced age and subsequent inability to contribute to its own auspicious blessing. The passing of my wife in 1997 and raising our young daughter alone required the balance of that time.
I am now prepared for general surgery and its associated risk, quite well suited to any unpredicted outcome and peacefully accepting all in a spirit of quiet calm.
Does this reflective--if not contemplative--demeanor provide a "healing" of body as well as spirit? I would think so, in that it reduces anxiety and promotes a beneficial resting state for physical recovery.
One way or another I'll know in a few days. Thank you for your prayers.

Seamus
Florida
Monday, November 17, 2008

As we sit by her side waiting for the inevitable to take place, listening for her last breath and letting her know how much we love her every time she jolts up out of silence, I can't help but think back only 28 hours ago.
Doctors, what do they know? I was persuaded to release my mother from life support with a potential for her to live only 5-10 minutes beyond. I told them that I want my priest here first and they understood.
Father Rauzard spent 30 minutes with me, my wife and my dying mother. I felt better for her knowing that she would be O.K. walking down that road alone to the afterlife.
The shocking and most heartbreaking part brings me back to the present, right now, appreciating every additional minute I have with her.
My question to you, have I participated in an anointing of the sick from which there was a healing? Only time will tell.

Rick
Florida
Wednesday, November 12, 2008

On April 22, 2006, I worked the sporting goods department of Walmart. I was returning weights to the shelf that a customer had put together. In a freak accident the two gentlemen helping me lost control of the remaining 120 pounds and it came crashing down on the back of my skull.
I must include this part of the story. I wear a brown scapular and venerate it. It is promised through our Lady that you will not die a sudden death without having received the sacrements (as you well know). I was going to 5 o'clock Mass that night, but I did not make it.
The barbell did heavy damage to my skull. By the time the paramedics arrived, I was down to three breaths per minute, blood pressure escalating (it was 298/198 by the time I reached the hospital).
The hospital called all my family in. I was not going to make it. My oldest daughter called our parish priest, Father Bill (Precious Blood Parish), to give me anointing of the sick. He arrived at the hospital immediately and anointing of the sick was given to me.
Within the hour I started to make a comeback, within 24 hours I was off the ventilator, within 72 hours my blood pressure stabilized, all without surgery. The swelling of my brain was putting pressure on the brain stem, but this started to recede.
I was in therapy for months. All my memories of that period were taken from me, but God has me here for a reason. It has been two years and I still have some serious problems from the accident. God has not shown me yet the purpose for my being here, but he will in all due time.
May all my love of Jesus bless and protect you.


Catherine
Ohio
Monday, November 10, 2008

We recently celebrated our communal Anointing of the Sick.
We invited all our parishioners to join in prayer. Our pastor moved among us, anointing us while we reached to touch those seated around us. The music and the homily was familiar and comforting.
Many of our shut-in members joined us and we enjoyed being uplifted and enjoyed, as well participating in Jesus' healing ways.
Following the celebration of healing, we enjoyed a sit-down lunch.
It is a proper action--to accept God's meeting with joy and surrender.

Mary
Michigan
Friday, November 07, 2008

As part of an ongoing adult education program, I’ve participated in one class entitled “Memories.” This kind of thinking seemed especially useful when trying to determine which of the seven sacraments has especially been a celebration of the outward signs of God’s grace in my life, as well as why and when.

Without hesitation, in a post-Vatican II Church when “Extreme Unction” was replaced by “The Anointing of the Sick,” I welcomed the opportunity to receive this blessing and prayer of the whole Church at a time when I felt especially powerless and struggling to accept God’s will for me. The sacramental reminder of the communion of saints wherein my suffering and anguish, united to Christ’s passion and death, could be used for the good of others, gave purpose to my life during a time when medicines, machines and skilled health care were constant reminders of my limitations, lack of control, and near-death experience which sapped my energy.

I remember teaching about this sacrament as part of a lifelong learning program at my former parish. Preparing for this presentation gave me good insights as to the outward sign filled with God’s grace which surrounded me as I faced two major surgeries to be done at the same time this past summer. It was time to recognize what was essential in my life and to give thanks for the years I’d been granted. I was able to face death, if necessary, knowing that if God gave me more years my work on earth was not done.

I had made time for the Sacrament of Reconciliation and asked my pastor, parish family as well as family and friends for their prayers for courage and healing, both for myself and for my husband. It was with some surprise that I found my pastor at the hospital before me the morning of surgery. He, in the presence of my husband and others in the hospital waiting room, prayed over me using the words of the Church, and anointed me on the forehead and hands with special oil blessed (usually olive oil blessed on Holy Thursday) by the bishop. It was my faith in this anointing, as well as that of the whole Church, which would strengthen me against temptations to anguish and discouragement as well as give me peace and courage to face the actual operation and the possibly long and painful recovery. Father waited until I came out of recovery some hours later to feed me with the Eucharist. It was the only nourishment I was allowed to take by mouth, and God’s presence in my body and soul was most appreciated. As I recovered, I shared with my family and friends how helpful and meaningful both the Anointing and the frequent opportunity to receive the Eucharist were during both my surgeries and hospitalizations this past summer.

Other times one is encouraged to receive the sacrament, in addition to just before major surgery, are in cases of grave illness, frailty due to old age, or when facing proximate danger of death such as when heading into battle. The sacrament may be repeated if the sick person recovers and then becomes sick again or if his/her illness becomes more serious. It is important not to delay asking for the Anointing of the Sick and adult catechesis needs to stress this point.



Claudette
Alabama
Wednesday, October 22, 2008

At 20 years old, life was smooth sailing. As a junior in college I was confident, athletic and a good student. I was living life on “easy street.”
But one glance at my newly issued college identification card indicated something had changed. A second glance confirmed that my right nostril was suddenly flaring out. Eight weeks of doctor visits and a biopsy finally led to a diagnosis.
It turned out that I had cancer, a rare fibrosarcoma. The initial treatment proved minor, and I thought I was on the road to a full recovery.
But six months later, I discovered a new lump in the same nostril. Then my cheek began tingling. Numerous specialists confirmed that my previous, supposedly unthreatening tumor had grown into a horrific, life-threatening malignancy that also had the potential to cause severe disfigurement.
Father George Fitzgerald from the Newman Hall-Holy Spirit Parish in Berkeley made a trip to my family’s home in Walnut Creek. In his comforting and kind manner, he performed an Anointing of the Sick. His spirtuality and positive energy made me feel an ever stronger connection to the Lord. I was ready to confront whatever surgery had in store for me.
I awoke from surgery to find that half of my nose had indeed been removed, along with half of my upper lip, muscle and bone from my right cheek, the shelf of my eye, six teeth and part of my hard palate. My doctor promised to make me "streetable" before I left the hospital. I had no idea what that might mean, but assumed I would look "acceptable."
As I reentered the real world, I noticed adults staring and children pointing--and sometimes giggling--at me. My hospital room had protected me, but outside of it, I was vulnerable and exposed.
Five years and 20 reconstructive surgeries later, I was plagued with insecurity. During my last procedure, I met a woman receiving treatment at my hospital. We began dating, but after hearing me ask--for the umpteenth time--how she felt about my looks, she ripped into me. The bulk of my problem, she informed me, was not my physical appearance, but my emotional insecurity.
Her honesty helped me realize that my mental and emotional scars were far more disfiguring than my physical ones. Once I got over the devastation that she was no longer interested in me, I began to realize how lucky I was that she had highlighted my greatest weakness. With a fresh perspective, I realized that surgery wasn’t something I could control. What I could control was focusing on rebuilding what was inside.
Raised a Roman Catholic, I was fortunate that my religious faith became increasingly liberating for me. I had developed a strong spirtitual foundation which gave me courage and strength thoughout my ordeal. I often prayed at the Newman Center in Berkeley and splashed holy water on my face, visualizing myself being cured by the hands of Jesus, and flushing any negativity or malignancy out of my system. I prayed I’d be cured, and reconstructed, but mostly I prayed that I would come out alive, a better and a richer person.
And you know what--that’s ultimately what happened. I didn’t get reconstructed the way I’d hoped, but I learned that my life’s work was not about “rebuilding” my face, it was about helping others.
I began examining myself from the inside out and used prayer and support from loved ones to boost my spirit and self-esteem. I volunteered at a cancer-support organization, and discovered that helping others is great therapy. I felt progressively better as I offered inspiration and hope to those coping with cancer. With time, my emotional pain subsided.
Twenty-three years later, I remain cancer-free, and am now more confident than when I was living life on “easy street.”
I learned a lot at a very young age and am grateful for those gifts and lessons that I hope I can communicate to people faced with challenges and adversity in their own lives.

For more information about my faith-based survival kit, motivational speaking and his recently released book, At Face Value: My Triumph Over A Disfiguring Cancer, please visit my Website http://www.terryhealey.com.


Terry
Alamo, California
Monday, October 20, 2008

One early Sunday, a close family member called us on the phone. His health had been deteriorating in the past year; he had been in and out of the hospital several times. While the diagnosis was not clear, my husband, sons, and myself were increasingly dismayed to see the progress of his condition.
His first words? “I don’t think I’m going to make it…” As his voice trailed off, we assured him that we would be there as soon as possible. We didn’t know what to think--we had not heard him speak like this before. He didn’t live alone, and so we had not been told of any major change in his health over the weekend. He went to the doctor regularly; what had happened?
Yet, when we arrived at his house a few minutes later, we knew that something was different. Though sitting up in his favorite chair, he looked shaken and pale. No familiar smiles or hugs. Rather, eyes almost closed, he touched our hands and repeated, “I don’t think I’m going to make it.”
Trying to remain composed, I retreated to the kitchen, and called other close family members. He seemed to know something that we didn’t, and we had to take his words seriously. More family members gathered there with me. Looking at each other helplessly, we wondered what could we do to comfort him. Someone thought about calling a parish priest. He was always a religious man, and had not been able to get out to Mass for months. But would he accept a priest coming to his home--or would it frighten him more?
To our surprise, he immediately said yes. The next dilemma? Getting a parish priest to come on a busy Sunday in a large parish. I offered to call, asking for the pastor specifically, aware of his outgoing and caring nature. He came to the phone immediately, and when he heard the request, said that he would definitely visit later in the day. “No,” I responded with a determination I didn’t expect in myself. “He needs you to come now. Right now.”
There’s where the Sacrament began, perhaps. Within moments, our pastor appeared at the door. First, he spent time alone in the living room with our loved one, then asked all the family to join in praying over him as he celebrated the Anointing of the Sick. He gave each of us the opportunity to bless him, then together, holding hands, we said the Our Father, and received Holy Communion.
We all were blessed with a sense of God’s grace and peace that day. We were changed, by the desire of our loved one to be healed, by the commitment of our pastor to come to our side immediately, despite whatever other commitments he might have had that day, and by being together, in God’s presence.
I am pleased to say that the health of our loved one has slowly improved since that time. He is still on an uphill journey, but one that has gentle slopes as well. I thank God for that special Sunday, and I hope others will find peace from the sacrament as we did.



Regina
New York
Monday, October 13, 2008

I have witnessed many sacraments of anointing of the sick from which there was a healing. Not only a healing of the body, but a healing of the mind. A person is more at peace when they have had a blessing said over them and with all their loved one and family near. When they know they are going to die very soon, love will overtakes the air you breathe and you can feel the love...and love is really the biggest healer of all.
Kimberly, a hospice caregiver

Kimberly
California
Sunday, October 12, 2008

After our class discusion on the Sacrament of Anointing, I found out that this sacrament has been often misunderstood by most Christians. That leads them to become doubful and hesitant to call for priest. I think, in so many ways, the Church has failed to educate believers especially on this matter, the last sacrament that deeply connects to the preceeding sacraments. The sick need to have a deeper understanding of their sickness, which is total submssion and dependence on God's loving hand. Catechism must be one of the great challengea for the whole members of the Church.

Georey
California
Thursday, September 25, 2008

As a commercial pilot I thought I was bullet-proof. In December of 1993 I was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor--admitted on January 1 and had surgery on the 3rd. At that time I was 28 and not too concerned about the sacraments. But my parents were. They had the Priest from St. Agnes come to the hospital so that I could receive the sacrament. They also arranged that I would receive Holy Communion. I also attended a healing Mass at the Solanus Casey Center.
That was 14 years ago. Another youg man who I met during my radiation treatments who was admitted with the same diagnosis passed away shortly finishing his treatment.

Jim
Michigan
Wednesday, September 24, 2008