Nothing Is Impossible Read Online Free PDF Page A

gasping for breath and sneaking off to use my inhaler.
    Perhaps the level of stress in the mind determinesthe severity of its manifestation in the body. There is overwhelming evidence that stress can be linked to hypertension, ulcers, and a compromised immune system. Many researchers agree that some forms of cancer are caused or made worse by repressed anger. When President Nixon was embroiled in the Watergate scandal in 1973, he faced the nation and told us, even as beads of sweat formed above his lip, “I am not a crook.” At the same time he developed phlebitis—a condition that causes pain and swelling due to partially blocked circulation—in one leg. Was this a coincidence, or was it caused by the mental stress of maintaining a cover-up? Whenever we don’t feel well we tend to blame it on external causes: the weather, contact with others, the environment, or even something we ate. These may well be contributing factors, but we should acknowledge that the source of many ailments is within ourselves.
    If we accept that the mind/body connection can produce harmful effects, then we can assume that the same connection has a healing power as well. Before my injury, a positive attitude probably helped me bounce back from various injuries and illnesses. But nothing that had gone before could have prepared me for an experience I had two years after I was paralyzed.
    In the spring of 1997 a small red spot appeared on my left ankle, probably caused by irritation from myshoe. Within a month the red spot had become a serious wound. It was only an inch and a half wide, but the skin had broken down, layer after layer, until the ankle-bone itself was exposed. Then the site became infected and turned septic as it spread up my leg. I was examined by specialists and told that there was the potential for a systemic infection, which might prove fatal. If they detected any indications of that scenario the only recourse would be to amputate my leg above the knee. I remember my immediate reaction, which I did not hesitate to share with the experts: I told them that was absolutely unacceptable, because I would need my leg in order to walk. I remember mentally drawing a line in the sand, establishing a barrier that could not and would not be crossed.
    I was put on a ten-day course of a powerful antibiotic administered intravenously. As I sat on the porch of our summer home in Massachusetts, gazing for hours on end at the hills surrounding our property, I kept picturing my ankle as it used to be. Slowly but surely new layers of skin began to form. Six months later the wound had closed. Within a year the ankle appeared perfectly normal.
    I don’t claim to understand precisely why my wound healed and my leg was saved. Certainly Fortaz, the prescribed antibiotic, is an aggressive therapy. Buteven the strongest antibiotics don’t always work; I had learned that from other treatments when I was in rehab. Looking back at it now, I believe that I wouldn’t have recovered without the drug. But I also believe that I wouldn’t have recovered without an ironclad agreement between my mind and my body that I had to keep my leg.
    There were many times during the healing process when I still felt very anxious about the outcome. It was much like the decision not to commit suicide after my accident—the decision created consequences of hard work, sacrifice, and the beginning of a journey into the unknown. It was relatively easy to tell the doctors that I would refuse amputation; my response was instinctive and probably irrational, driven by my aggressive and competitive personality. It was far more difficult to sit on the porch with my leg propped up on pillows constantly trying to push doubt and negativity out of my mind. One minute I would think, “I can do this—I can heal this wound.” The next minute I would think, “What are you talking about? You don’t have any special powers.” Then I would try yet again to picture my ankle as it used to be