Healed in a place I once hated

Hello Reader,

Hope your weekend went well. Mine’s better than the previous weeks’ of being sick. I wanted to share with you a personal story and hope that by doing so, you find your own story of redemption.

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Losing my mom to cancer left me angry and full of doubt toward doctors and hospitals. I started to distrust everything they said. I avoided hospitals whenever I could.

One memory still stings: an X-ray attendant once kicked my mom for walking too slowly even though she could barely walk. That wasn’t the only injustice. There were many more moments of neglect and cruelty, simply because we didn’t have the money. Hospitals treated us like we were invisible.

I carried that pain for years.

But everything started to shift when I got pregnant, gave birth, and entered postpartum.

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Recently, I found a lump between my chest and stomach. It wasn’t there before I had my baby, and I was nervous.

We went to the same hospital where I gave birth – the one where my husband works. The doctor did a physical exam and said it looked normal, but referred me for an ultrasound just to be sure.

After the scan, as we were leaving the hospital, I got a call from the nurses. They said they’d do an MRI scan for me – completely free of charge – so they could get better imagery and make sure it was nothing serious.

I stepped into that big circular MRI machine – the kind that makes you feel like you’re in a sci-fi movie – and suddenly, I was flooded with thoughts and emotions:

“What if it’s something worse?”​
​“Why am I getting this for free when my mom couldn’t even afford basic care?”

What made the guilt worse was that even if this MRI wasn’t free, my top-tier insurance would have easily covered it in full. I can’t help but think that while my mom and many others are finding ways how to get this much needed scan, I am getting this “complimentary” just because I am my husband’s wife? It’s unfair.

Before I continue with my point, the doctor told me afterward that it was just inflammation – my abdominal muscles are still healing after pregnancy.

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I sat at a café afterward, trying to process what had just happened. This wasn’t the first time I’d received this kind of VIP treatment – from pregnancy to delivery to now. And yes, my husband works there – but still, they didn’t have to do any of this.

That’s when I realized something:

God is redeeming this part of my story.

I thought to myself:

• “Why do I get this level of care now, when my mom died because of the lack of it?”
• “I don’t deserve this when my family never experienced it.”

But then it clicked: this isn’t just about me.

God is redeeming not just me – but my family, our lineage.

I saw parallels between my mom’s suffering and the sacrifice of Jesus. Both went through unimaginable pain so that others could live better. Jesus didn’t have to endure the cross – but He did anyway. My mom, even in agony, kept fighting so she could give us more time and prepare us for life after her.

That’s love. Your life for your loved one’s life. ❤️

God didn’t want me to live my life bitter, angry, or distrusting an entire system because of one dark experience. He allowed me to see a different side of healthcare – to soften my heart, to remind me of His grace, and to gently release the final threads of grief I’d been carrying for years.

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Grief is a marathon.

It refines you – your faith, your strength, your view of the world.
And sometimes, redemption comes in the most unexpected ways… like an MRI.

I didn’t understand much at the time, but I kept it real. I would continue praying and going to church even when I have doubts in God on some areas. I stayed open to the answers and the potential of not getting answers at all. And now that I look back, I realised that God isn’t intimidated by our doubts. He wants to work with us through them.

That’s faith. Being real even with your unbelief. 🙏🏼

So, I’m grateful. Grateful that God even cares about the “little” things like my bitterness towards the medical world. Grateful that He’s teaching me to trust again – to make choices not from past pain, but from faith, surrender, and hope.

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Maybe this story is your reminder, too:

You can have faith even with your doubts.
You can be happy even as you process your grief.
You are loved, and you are supported.
God loves you and he cares about the little things you care about.
The universe has your back.

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Questions for you this week 💭

• What pain from the past is still shaping the way you see the present?
• What part of your story is God quietly redeeming right now?
• What would it look like for you to trust again – in people, in systems, or in God?

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If this story moved you or reminded you of something in your own life, hit reply. I’d love to hear from you.

And if someone close to you needs a reminder that healing is happening, send this their way.

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Thank you for listening (´｡•◡•｡`) ♡,
Dane

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To my mom in heaven, Helen. A ray of light, sunshine and happy dance moves.