God Opposes the Proud

My friend just brought me back from physical therapy on my knee and the follow-up visit with my surgeon. It was an interesting afternoon.

I have been assigned to the former manager of a physical therapy company who has suddenly found himself back in a staff position after the company closed his office on the other side of the city. He had a very positive attitude about this 'demotion,' and said with a smile that at least he didn't have to deal with bad employees anymore. I'd be willing to bet that his humble spirit and positive attitude will land him in a wonderful new position soon.

This therapist is so knowledgeable and patient. He has told me things about MS that I didn't know. For example, when a muscle is injured in a person with MS, it takes far longer to heal; and if the muscle is damaged severely, the MS patient will never fully recover the use of the muscle. He noticed my shoes and recommended different ones to help support my knees. He emphasized the importance of taking my recovery very slowly and gently. Everything in moderation was the mantra I heard from him. My neurologist has been begging me to slow down for years.

Before the visit to the surgeon's office, I wrote out all of the things I would like to say to him regarding his rude treatment during my recent hospital stay. I went over it with Joe and my friend. Both of them felt that the doctor would just close his ears to what I had to say. But I felt that I had to say it, nevertheless. Perhaps by speaking up, I might save another patient from being mistreated.

When the surgeon finished the exam, I asked if I could share something with him that might help him with other MS patients in the future. He said okay, and I told him that it really wigged me out to be told so bluntly that he would just have to send me to a nursing home since I couldn't walk.

He launched into a defensive argument about how he has built his entire practice on his mastery of psychology. He claims that he can analyze any patient within minutes of walking into a room, and he figured out that I was the type of person who was prone to be lazy; to let others wait on me hand and foot. He purposely said what he did about the nursing home to give me a 'kick in the butt' and scare me into moving my leg!

He continued by telling me that he is an expert in the treatment of MS, because he's been caring for his sister-in-law with MS for the past three years. He's read everything he can on the subject, and he knows that MS patients tend to become passive and expect others to do everything for them. (You probably could have heard the steam whistling out of my ears at this point!) He also claimed that MS patients have to be worked harder than ordinary people in order to get better.

He went on to say that he knew he might lose me as a patient, but it didn't matter. He said that some people are just never happy, even when you do a great job. And others are injured by his practice, but they still think he's the finest doctor on the planet.

When he took in a breath to continue, I said, "Well, you got me 100% wrong. I am not the type of person who enjoys being waited on. In fact, my friends usually have to tell me to quit over-doing it."

He said that he figured he had made me mad that day in the hospital by the look on my face, but he didn't care. He pointed at my knee and said, "Your knee's getting better. If making you mad is what it took, it doesn't matter."

I told him that I'm not the sort of person to go around telling the entire world about what he did just to get him into trouble. But I pointed out that he has a family counting on him, and the next MS patient he insults might not be quite as nice as I am.

Again, he simply said that he figured he might lose me as a patient, and he was okay with that.

I just sat there, dumb-founded. I couldn't think of another word to say.

My friend told me afterward that she would have quoted a very short verse of Scripture to him: "God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble." (James 4:6b)

We decided that we'd better start praying for this surgeon, because God needs to give him a wake-up call. The last surgeon who was this prideful with me lost her 3-year-old daughter a month later over a waterfall while on vacation in Hawaii. The child's body was never recovered.

This experience helped me to see that I am growing in my ability to speak up when things are not right. I stood up for myself and said what I needed to without crying, shaking, or getting angry. My surgeon's response was incredible, but predictable. I am asking God to help me forgive this man and for God to deal with the doctor in whatever way he feels is appropriate. Now, I can move on with my life, knowing that I did the right thing. What this doctor does with my feedback and God's reaction is another matter that is out of my hands.

I pray that encounters with prideful people like this surgeon will always serve to remind me that I, too, can be puffed up with arrogance. I hope that I will have the humility to listen when others tell me that I am in the wrong.