Healing the Sick Radically Quick
In my early years, I was just like any other normal child, minus the fact that I had never fallen ill. My parents and numerous doctors just came to the conclusion that I had an extremely strong immune system and that it was a blessing. Never once have I had a fever, runny nose, or even a slight cough. Not even I knew the power I was gifted with until an incident occurred at school during recess in kindergarten.
I had just made my first friend, Kristen, and we were seeing who could reach the top of the jungle gym first. Once near the top, Kristen’s foot slipped. As her right leg was dangling over the ground, her shoe was edging off. Kristen tried to reach for it to slip it back on her little foot, but she lost the rest of her balance and fell to the mulch covered ground. Shocked as I watched my new friend try to get up, I climbed down as quickly as my little arms and legs would allow. By the time I had reached the bottom, the teachers had already run to the rescue. Our teacher, Mrs. Taylor, first tried to see if Kristen could stand on her own, but soon realized she had broken her ankle.
“Where’s your other shoe?” Mrs. Taylor asked Kristen. I had already grabbed it and wanted to help put it on because I felt so terrible. Gently grabbing Kristen’s lower leg where it was swollen, I slipped on her Velcro sneaker.
“Try not to put any weight on your right foot, Kristen. I’ll help you walk to the nurse’s office. There we’ll call your mother and have her take you to the hospital,” Mrs. Taylor calmly explained to Kristen. Mrs. Taylor put Kristen’s arm around her waist and they started walking towards the double doors. Half way there, Mrs. Taylor realized Kristen wasn’t hopping, or even limping. “Kristen, you’re going to hurt yourself if you keep putting weight on it.” Mrs. Taylor urged.
“It doesn’t hurt anymore, Mrs. Taylor. Its not swollen anymore either!” Kristen clearly exaggerated causing Mrs. Taylor to have another glance down at her ankle to be sure.
“You’re right, the swelling has gone down. You are sure it doesn’t hurt anymore?” asked Mrs. Taylor.
“Yes! Can I go back to recess now?” begged Kristen.
“Sure, just be careful,” Mrs. Taylor pleaded.
Kristen ran over to the slide where I went to get away from the jungle gym that had hurt my friend. I just had to ask her, “Why weren’t you able to stand after you'd fallen?”
“When I fell, I heard it make a POP noise and I couldn’t move it. The same thing happened when I fell off my tricycle, but I had to be taken to the emergency room and have a cast put on. It was horrible,” Kristen said pointing to her left ankle this time.
“Are you going to need a cast this time?” I asked Kristen sympathetically.
“I don’t think so. The pain went away as soon as you were putting on my shoe,” Kristen informed me. Finally I was relieved I hadn’t hurt my new friend.
That was the first time I used my power to heal, but it took a few more incidents to recognize the gift I had. For example, my kindergarten class had perfect attendance for the entire year earning us an ice cream party. Nobody ever touched the tissue boxes we had to bring for extra credit every class I had in elementary school. In fifth grade, when my Aunt Hazel came down with cancer, we went to visit her before she went to a better place. After our stay, Hazel’s caretaker phoned and told us the tumor had completely diminished. When the flu had stricken school in the fifth grade, I wanted to know what was causing my classmates sickly symptoms. A couple of my friends who had caught it asked me to bring them their homework so they wouldn’t fall behind. As soon as I greeted them with a hug, they each said they suddenly felt better. Miracles were happening all around me, and I knew there had to be some explanation.
I further experimented with curing my friends and family, and proved successful each time. By the time I reached the tenth grade, the word had spread. Our towns' local hospital asked me to work there part time as a last resort for their sickest. Already I had cured: broken bones, cancer, diabetes, infections, halitosis, acne, the flu, the common cold, asthma, Alzheimer’s, pain, anxiety, seizures, alcohol/drug addiction, eating disorders, baldness, autism, osteoporosis, cholera, comas, upset stomach, organ/kidney failure, bug bites, cystic fibrosis, dandruff, gout, insomnia, depression, drowsiness, eczema, fibromyalgia (all muscles hurt), flatulence, the hiccups, allergies, infertility, malaria, measles, neuritis, pneumonia, aneurysms, psoriasis, rabies, salmonella, scabies, and mad cow disease to name a few.
Work was beginning to affect my GPA. It wasn't easy balancing study time and attending to every virus that bred. I wouldn't say it was luck that my teachers had sick relatives, but it did make me straight A's. Two weeks before I graduated, Sentara Bayside Hospital was renamed Robin's Miracle Network, causing even more publicity. It got so bad I couldn't wake up at home and enjoy breakfast because all the neighbors and their friends, and their friends' family and friends would camp on my lawn. They would wait for the lights to turn on and start knocking on the door for me to cure them. That's when the government decided to put me under protection.
Tests were done on me first to see if they could determine the root to my odd condition. When the scientists didn't find anything, the government was still satisfied to have the most peculiar being in their possession. They charged patients half the price that would be charged at the hospital for their business. People of all races and diseases from across the world came to Washington D.C. for the well being of their health. I received half of the profits, but it didn't feel right.
Unhealthy patients needed a legit prescription signed by their doctor to enter to the guarded cubicle I was working out of. They were forced to sign a document, release their personal identification and information, and pay their copay before they saw me. No tablets, capsules, injections, surgeries, suppositories, ointments, or antibiotic liquids were ever needed since I could cure with my touch. Unfortunately, this caused the drug manufacturers to collapse and thousands of hard working citizens to lose their jobs. Other than that mishap, health insurance companies were going under because people didn't need to pay for multiple check-ups or medication anymore. Drug stores crashed and pharmacists lost their jobs,too. Also, since rehab centers were sending all of their drug addicts to me to fix their dependency, the mafia had sent threats through the media about a hit on me for ruining their business. They added they wouldn't stop until I could cure death. Fortunately, I had guards, but I still didn't feel fully secure.
Isolated from the outside world, I rarely saw anybody healthy other than my family, the guards or members of the government. Kristen stayed in Virginia Beach and there was nobody my age to interact with. Imprisoned is what I was! The only light I had access to was fluorescent. I was the best paid prisoner, limited to online shopping. My skin grew pale like the sick and my once happy demeanor had vanished. My dream of defeating illnesses and curing the incurable had turned into a nightmare. I became hungry for freedom, excitement and possibly having my first date. Torn between living a life of sorrow and finding a more exciting one, I decided to escape.
My life on my own for the first time wasn't as glorious as I had pictured. After years of being locked away, I hadn't realized how much the world had changed. The economy was hit hard with multiple businesses going into debt. Pills and various medicines were littered throughout the environment. Walking down the street, I passed a pawn shop; in the window was an antique television broadcasting the news. Interested, I stopped to listen. The news reporter was explaining how the world was facing another depression. I wondered, how could the world be depressed if everyone is healthy? People seemed saddest and weakest when they were sick, and now most were cured. That's when it occurred to me that life will never make sense and the more you get what you want, the worse life will get.
In my early years, I was just like any other normal child, minus the fact that I had never fallen ill. My parents and numerous doctors just came to the conclusion that I had an extremely strong immune system and that it was a blessing. Never once have I had a fever, runny nose, or even a slight cough. Not even I knew the power I was gifted with until an incident occurred at school during recess in kindergarten.
I had just made my first friend, Kristen, and we were seeing who could reach the top of the jungle gym first. Once near the top, Kristen’s foot slipped. As her right leg was dangling over the ground, her shoe was edging off. Kristen tried to reach for it to slip it back on her little foot, but she lost the rest of her balance and fell to the mulch covered ground. Shocked as I watched my new friend try to get up, I climbed down as quickly as my little arms and legs would allow. By the time I had reached the bottom, the teachers had already run to the rescue. Our teacher, Mrs. Taylor, first tried to see if Kristen could stand on her own, but soon realized she had broken her ankle.
“Where’s your other shoe?” Mrs. Taylor asked Kristen. I had already grabbed it and wanted to help put it on because I felt so terrible. Gently grabbing Kristen’s lower leg where it was swollen, I slipped on her Velcro sneaker.
“Try not to put any weight on your right foot, Kristen. I’ll help you walk to the nurse’s office. There we’ll call your mother and have her take you to the hospital,” Mrs. Taylor calmly explained to Kristen. Mrs. Taylor put Kristen’s arm around her waist and they started walking towards the double doors. Half way there, Mrs. Taylor realized Kristen wasn’t hopping, or even limping. “Kristen, you’re going to hurt yourself if you keep putting weight on it.” Mrs. Taylor urged.
“It doesn’t hurt anymore, Mrs. Taylor. Its not swollen anymore either!” Kristen clearly exaggerated causing Mrs. Taylor to have another glance down at her ankle to be sure.
“You’re right, the swelling has gone down. You are sure it doesn’t hurt anymore?” asked Mrs. Taylor.
“Yes! Can I go back to recess now?” begged Kristen.
“Sure, just be careful,” Mrs. Taylor pleaded.
Kristen ran over to the slide where I went to get away from the jungle gym that had hurt my friend. I just had to ask her, “Why weren’t you able to stand after you'd fallen?”
“When I fell, I heard it make a POP noise and I couldn’t move it. The same thing happened when I fell off my tricycle, but I had to be taken to the emergency room and have a cast put on. It was horrible,” Kristen said pointing to her left ankle this time.
“Are you going to need a cast this time?” I asked Kristen sympathetically.
“I don’t think so. The pain went away as soon as you were putting on my shoe,” Kristen informed me. Finally I was relieved I hadn’t hurt my new friend.
That was the first time I used my power to heal, but it took a few more incidents to recognize the gift I had. For example, my kindergarten class had perfect attendance for the entire year earning us an ice cream party. Nobody ever touched the tissue boxes we had to bring for extra credit every class I had in elementary school. In fifth grade, when my Aunt Hazel came down with cancer, we went to visit her before she went to a better place. After our stay, Hazel’s caretaker phoned and told us the tumor had completely diminished. When the flu had stricken school in the fifth grade, I wanted to know what was causing my classmates sickly symptoms. A couple of my friends who had caught it asked me to bring them their homework so they wouldn’t fall behind. As soon as I greeted them with a hug, they each said they suddenly felt better. Miracles were happening all around me, and I knew there had to be some explanation.
I further experimented with curing my friends and family, and proved successful each time. By the time I reached the tenth grade, the word had spread. Our towns' local hospital asked me to work there part time as a last resort for their sickest. Already I had cured: broken bones, cancer, diabetes, infections, halitosis, acne, the flu, the common cold, asthma, Alzheimer’s, pain, anxiety, seizures, alcohol/drug addiction, eating disorders, baldness, autism, osteoporosis, cholera, comas, upset stomach, organ/kidney failure, bug bites, cystic fibrosis, dandruff, gout, insomnia, depression, drowsiness, eczema, fibromyalgia (all muscles hurt), flatulence, the hiccups, allergies, infertility, malaria, measles, neuritis, pneumonia, aneurysms, psoriasis, rabies, salmonella, scabies, and mad cow disease to name a few.
Work was beginning to affect my GPA. It wasn't easy balancing study time and attending to every virus that bred. I wouldn't say it was luck that my teachers had sick relatives, but it did make me straight A's. Two weeks before I graduated, Sentara Bayside Hospital was renamed Robin's Miracle Network, causing even more publicity. It got so bad I couldn't wake up at home and enjoy breakfast because all the neighbors and their friends, and their friends' family and friends would camp on my lawn. They would wait for the lights to turn on and start knocking on the door for me to cure them. That's when the government decided to put me under protection.
Tests were done on me first to see if they could determine the root to my odd condition. When the scientists didn't find anything, the government was still satisfied to have the most peculiar being in their possession. They charged patients half the price that would be charged at the hospital for their business. People of all races and diseases from across the world came to Washington D.C. for the well being of their health. I received half of the profits, but it didn't feel right.
Unhealthy patients needed a legit prescription signed by their doctor to enter to the guarded cubicle I was working out of. They were forced to sign a document, release their personal identification and information, and pay their copay before they saw me. No tablets, capsules, injections, surgeries, suppositories, ointments, or antibiotic liquids were ever needed since I could cure with my touch. Unfortunately, this caused the drug manufacturers to collapse and thousands of hard working citizens to lose their jobs. Other than that mishap, health insurance companies were going under because people didn't need to pay for multiple check-ups or medication anymore. Drug stores crashed and pharmacists lost their jobs,too. Also, since rehab centers were sending all of their drug addicts to me to fix their dependency, the mafia had sent threats through the media about a hit on me for ruining their business. They added they wouldn't stop until I could cure death. Fortunately, I had guards, but I still didn't feel fully secure.
Isolated from the outside world, I rarely saw anybody healthy other than my family, the guards or members of the government. Kristen stayed in Virginia Beach and there was nobody my age to interact with. Imprisoned is what I was! The only light I had access to was fluorescent. I was the best paid prisoner, limited to online shopping. My skin grew pale like the sick and my once happy demeanor had vanished. My dream of defeating illnesses and curing the incurable had turned into a nightmare. I became hungry for freedom, excitement and possibly having my first date. Torn between living a life of sorrow and finding a more exciting one, I decided to escape.
My life on my own for the first time wasn't as glorious as I had pictured. After years of being locked away, I hadn't realized how much the world had changed. The economy was hit hard with multiple businesses going into debt. Pills and various medicines were littered throughout the environment. Walking down the street, I passed a pawn shop; in the window was an antique television broadcasting the news. Interested, I stopped to listen. The news reporter was explaining how the world was facing another depression. I wondered, how could the world be depressed if everyone is healthy? People seemed saddest and weakest when they were sick, and now most were cured. That's when it occurred to me that life will never make sense and the more you get what you want, the worse life will get.
