In November 12, 1985, I had injured my back.  Ultimately, I had to get an operation.  From the time of the injury, it took over a year for the doctors to get serious about finding the cause of my pain. The doctor wouldn't even listen when I would tell him that there was indeed a serious problem.  He only gave me the many and various medications, and eventually sent me to the local hospital as an out patient where I would undergo injections in my back. The last injection was just that.  Last! The injections were bad enough but this particular time was horrible.  As I lay on the table, the doctor began pushing the needle into my spine. He had apparently hit the bone, because the needle wouldn't go any further, so he pushed hard and the needle was jammed deep within my spine. Immediately, my body seized and the pain shot through my entire body, and the doctor asks, "Hmmm, did that hurt a little?" "Except for nearly ending up out on the street screaming  'NINE,  ONE,  ONE!   NINE,  ONE,  ONE!"  I answered, forcing myself to speak "didn't have any pain at all!" Why did I have to endure this?  I had been telling the doctor the truth.  I told him that there was indeed pain that was indicating something serious.  I couldn't move my back without pain.  He couldn't understand how I could know that my back was seriously injured, only having some pain, yet not have the terrible pain that accompanies back injuries.  Of course he thought, "Who's the doctor here, anyway?"  I was certainly the patient and not the doctor. In the year while I tried to tell him the truth, the devil was trying to lie to me, telling me through the doctor, that there couldn't possibly be any problem with my back.  He was wanting to prevent me from having a wonderful and miraculous healing that God had in store for me. In the mean time, God was sparing me the pain while allowing me to know there was indeed something very wrong with my back. Finally, after a year, the doctor ordered not only X-rays, but also a CAT Scan. Guess what?  He found that there was a seriously protruding or ruptured disc.  Where was the terrible pain?  God had eased the pain or raised my pain tolerance threshold so that I could endure much easier.  The minor pain was there in order that I would know that there was indeed a problem. I found the best surgeon in town.  This man had prayed over me just prior to the nurses giving me my sedative in preparation for the anesthesia and operation. A laminectomy is no minor operation because of its proximity to the spinal cord.  One slip of the 'knife' and I would be paralyzed. Later, in the day, as I awoke, I felt absolutely no pain.  I was a little uncomfortable with the patch and tape but no pain.  Yes, they brought me medication for pain but it was not really needed.  they gave me a bottle of pain pills with codeine to take home with me but they were not needed. The nurses taught me how to lay flat on my pack and how to get up from the bed so there would be no pain.  Since I didn't have any pain, I figured that I could get up and down however I wanted. I hadn't realized how perturbed nurses get if you don't listen to them, but I did find out soon enough.  With no pain, I decided to lay comfortably...  Then the nurse arrived.  I thought they had revived the German Gestapo.  Was she ever angry!  You don't want to get one of them angry with you.  I did,,,  and you won't like it... When they finally sent me on my way home, they told me to rest and gave me various specific instructions and was ordered to follow them under no uncertain terms.  Of course, I had already proven how I listen to the nurses. At home, I had no pain and felt ridiculous lying around the house.  I decided that it would be nice to be able to ride my motorcycle so I went to the garage.  I stood and looked at it wanting to ride it. I decided that if I wanted to ride, I'd better practice getting on and off which I did.  For two weeks I'd get on and off.  I'd start it up and run it for a while then practice getting on and off again. After these two weeks, my surgeon told me that I could start driving and getting around, but I was to take it easy. Me?  Take it easy?  Come on!...  So I asked him if I would be allowed to ride the bike. Adamantly, he said, "NO!"  I informed him that while my bike was a larger motorcycle, it was well balanced and had a smooth ride. He said that I was only to work at getting on an off for a while.  On and off!  I'd been doing that for the last two weeks.  I wanted to do more. With reservation, he gave me permission.  I immediately went home and took my motorcycle for a drive. Where was all the pain?  It was in God's hands.  He was in full control of the entire situation.  He wanted to work a miracle to prove His power, love and care.