NOT A MATTER OF CHANCE by Alexey Rola Cajilig
I went under the knife several times. Although these were considered minor surgeries, all involved putting me to sleep, thus placing my fate on doctors and my faith upon the Lord that He will guide the surgeons’ hands each time. During these moments, I prayed for another chance to live. So practically speaking, God already gave me quite a few free passes in life. Yet my mind also entertained the chilling thought of death no matter how I cling to the hope of an extended life. For some reasons, the operating room does not offer solace at any level. It is cold, filled with bright, blinding lights, and with people you can’t recognize who kept talking nonchalantly as if you’re not there. During those brief moments before I blacked-out, I knew I had a fifty percent probability of survival, and that there was hope that God will grant my request of complete healing by one hundred percent. So just before I dozed-off to dreamland or eternity, at least I was sure of one thing—that on average, I h...