A test of faith was now before me. 

While believing for others to be healed, faith for myself occasionally eludes me. And so I have learned to seek medical help rather than allowing things to go from bad to worse²⁸. G-d works through our faith where it is at and not where we wish or pretend it to be. He also uses doctors, as the survival of our son Yezreel is ample testimony. 

I knelt at my bed, seeking the Lord most earnestly. I knew I could not wait another day without having my armpit checked by a doctor. Going to the hospital in Webuye was out of the question. I knew it well enough. 

“You are an Israeli citizen. Contact the Israeli Embassy in Nairobi,” the Lord spoke into my  plea. “Their staff will have a good doctor.”

“Oh Lord, THANK YOU! Thank you! What a brilliant solution,” I exclaimed, greatly relieved.

How had I failed to think of this myself? I even had a contact at the Embassy, a doctor himself, who could refer me to the Embassy physician.

I called my contact immediately. He gave me name and phone number of the Embassy’s doctor²⁹, a Jewish Kenyan native from Chicago, mentioning he had also been the physician of the former Kenyan President, Daniel arap Moi³⁰.

I lost no time in getting an appointment that was scheduled for Friday noon, January 5th, my departure date for Nairobi. What relief just knowing there was a good and trustworthy physician. Praise G-d!

By Friday, the Bishop’s car was, as usual, in the repair shop, and now the magistrate’s car as well. The Bishop hired a taxi to Kisumu airport and back for which I gave him my last 2,000 KSh. Our fare-well was short due to sharpened security measures, and the flight to Nairobi, where I was to meet my dear Pastor friends, Joseph and Allan, went eventless this time, thank G-d.

I walked up and down the Kenyatta airport, looking for my friends. Alas, they weren’t there.

A kind gentleman approached me and offered me his mobile phone, apparently perceiving that I was going about "non-mobilic"J. Joseph answered the call saying that they were stuck in heavy traffic and would arrive within 20 minutes. Heavy traffic seems to be a perpetual affliction of Nairobi transit. When I told them that I had to be at the Nairobi Hospital to see the doctor at noon, my two friends got rather upset. A full day’s meetings were scheduled that just could not be cancelled. We were to go straight to the church as the people were eagerly waiting for the prophetess from Israel. I insisted they take me to the hospital. Thank G-d they acceded to my demand.

We had no problem finding the doctor’s office as everyone in the hospital seemed to know where it was. The girls at the reception desk were very friendly, but I had to sit a good while as the waiting room was full. When at long last I entered the doctor’s office, he greeted me in Hebrew. I immediately felt at home.

He examined my wound, diagnosed it as an abscess having gone rather deep, and ordered immediate surgery, with at least one overnight stay.

Fear gripped me at the prospect of prohibitive high costs for surgery and hospitalization. All I could see at that moment was the looming debt on the VISA credit card. I simply forgot that just minutes ago I had clearly recognized G-d’s care and provison for me and had boasted as much to Joseph and Allen: 

a) The Lord had seen to it that I would no longer be in Webuye but have 3 days in Nairobi where I could see a good doctor, actually the very best, as I was to learn.
b) He had also provided well in advance a contact at the Israeli Embassy in Nairobi to connect me with this outstanding physician 
c) For hospitalization, the prestigious, modern Nairobi Hospital is the best in Kenya
d) And my 2 pastor friends would drive and help me.

But at that instant in the doctor’s office, I succumbed to the spirit of fear assaulting me. Hence, instead of focusing on the Lord and staying my faith on Him, I was blinded by the insurmountable debt. I refused the surgery, and the good doctor called in a collegue for a second opinion, who agreed to perform a less invasive surgery immediately. I decided to go with this option but this entailed more waiting. We sat for another 2 hours and then learned of 3 other patients scheduled for surgery before me. By now I was feeling rather weak and was in great pain. The long wait at the registration desk was more than I could bear; I demanded to be seen by the doctor. 

A nurse took us to the Emergency room, where after yet more waiting the typical symptoms of a thyroid attack or circulation collapse were coming on. I called for oxygen and the nurses fulfilled my request, though plainly regarding me as a hypochondriac; moreover they had to cover me with blankets as I had begun to freeze, trembling violently. 

They called my Jewish physician who, seeing me in such condition and great pain, prescribed very strong pain killers containing codein, and sufficient antibiotics to make it back home to Israel. He also proposed “day-surgery”, which was minor invasive surgery just to open up the abcess and drain it. The costs would be considerable less. I immediately decided on this procedure. 

I had no inkling of the suffering that would persist for days to come!