My early childhood years were the same like that of any other child except for the fact that I was sick often.

The family doctor advised my parents to admit me to the hospital to get my tonsils removed (the medical term for this is tonsillectomy). The operation was due on the twentieth of august in 1970 while I had vacation and it went well. When I woke up from surgery they checked my throat and I got permission to go home. Five minutes after the doctor gave me permission to leave I started vomiting blood and there was a great uproar in the medical room. I immediately was surrounded by nurses to get medical attention but after I threw up five emisin basin ful of blood, I lost consciousness.

They transferred me back towards the operating room but when they wanted to give me a blood transfusion there was no blood with my blood type to be found in the supply room. Searching for a place where thy did have my blood type they sent someone with great urgency away to get it. After the first, two letdowns of losing consciousness and not having my blood type available for a transfusion the third one occurred.

Not having enough blood in your body means a lack of oxygen. The lack of oxygen resulted in brain damage although everything looked normal outwardly. The doctors thought that the situation was under control when I got my blood transfusion and I seemed normal the next day.

My body started to spasm, this was accompanied with hellish pain. My body also got deformed because of the spasms. I also got paralyzed and became a like a living vegetable. I couldn't speak or eat and the only way of reacting to others was by blinking with my eyes.

Weeks went by and because death was the only thing that awaited me my father got really angry and demanded that I was transported to the hospital UZ in Leuven. I was awaited there by professors that kept me stable and alive.

There my recuperation started physically, mentally and emotionally. It took years. There was no promise of recovery so my life and future were destroyed until I met the healing power of Jesus Christ.
I accepted Him as My Savior, Son of God through His Spirit after being confronted with the gospel for a couple of weeks. I trusted Him to yield my life underneath His Hands and my life was flooded with overflowing peace and joy. I made this decision remarkably ten years after I got my tonsillectomy on the twentieth of august in 1980.

Jesus made my life worthy and fulfilling again. My body has been restored many times after this and even though some health problems are still there they are being overshadowed by the blissful fact that I live with Jesus. Did my life get perfect? No absolutely not! But I can enjoy my life now and even amidst limitations i've got I still am amazed by what the Lord does for me.



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