I’d been sick for ten months with no hope in sight for figuring out what was at the root of my symptoms. Lots of theories were floating around but there was no definitive diagnosis and it wasn’t just my body that was being examined from all angles. Every facet of my life was under the microscope. I was like a diamond in the rough that someone wanted to find a flaw in. Nothing gets everyone’s attention like pain and I was in a tremendous amount of it.
The entire left side of my body was seized with a burning sensation from head to toe. It felt like dry ice was trapped inside me freezing me only to the point of pain without ever reaching comfortably numb. I was losing weight, my balance, my blood pressure was dropping, and my lymph nodes were the size of golf balls. Stress was the most common non-medical opinion. Every doctor I saw disagreed with this diagnosis. If the neurologist hadn’t gone out of his way to say he didn’t see any need for a psychiatric evaluation I would have had one just to cover that base.
I wasn’t convinced the doctors were right about anything and not having answers was as emotionally painful as the physical symptoms. I didn’t know what to do or where to turn. This is why the pennies began to take on so much significance. When you’re grasping at straws a handful of pennies is at least something tangible. It was such a strange sign though I wanted to make some sense of it. (Pardon the pun!)
With a little research I learned that the penny was the first coin given the inscription, “In God We Trust”, and without any other great theories I assumed this was the message for me. Trust God, he would take care of me. Five years later this simple thought still makes me smile but I’ve come to realize that was a fraction of what God was saying and what kept me from seeing that was actually hitting the road to recovery even though it was penny lined.