A miracle is defined as something unexplained by science or reason, usually involving a divine agency.
Like microwave popcorn. OK, I know there is an explanation there, but no one will ever convince me. Popcorn, and microwaves for that matter, will always remain miraculous to me.
Here’s another miracle — I walked down East Main Street in Belleville on Wednesday night and somehow avoided being corralled by an out-of-town news reporter asking about James T. Hodgkinson, the Belleville Congressional shooter. News trucks were everywhere, seeking to somehow find out something that the local newspaper hadn’t found out already. What a waste of resources.
If you Google “miracle,” (because how else do we research things these days?) besides definitions, you get such things as Miracle Whip, Miracle Ear and even Miracle Noodles, all of which I have heard of.
Never miss a local story.
But Miracle Bamboo Bra? All I can say is that it’s a miracle I wasn’t distracted into looking that one up.
Then you have the miracle win by the 2011 St. Louis Cardinals in the World Series.
I have been involved in a series of miracles for the last few months — or at least I consider them miracles.
I battled pain that started in my neck and radiated down my right shoulder and down my back. First, I was examined by this miracle machine that took pictures of my insides and turned them into a 3-D model of my neck and shoulders.
When the doctors looked at these pictures, they discovered a miracle right away. More than 30 years ago, I was involved in a head-on auto accident. I had no pain, but evidently, the impact broke the top two vertebrae in my neck. They healed themselves by fusing together, but I easily could have been completely paralyzed. That I escaped unharmed has got to be a miracle.
After some more testing, doctors operated on my neck, repaired some discs and fused more vertebrae together to stop them from pinching nerves and causing more pain. I went to sleep with pain and woke up with no pain. “It’s a miracle,” I thought when I awoke.
I know there are scientific explanations for the surgery and the equipment they used, but it will always seem like a miracle to me — especially when I look at X-rays and see the metal plates they screwed into my spine, making me resemble, in the pictures, a ghostly floating selection of hardware.
I wonder if I will have problem with metal detectors at airports. Retired Belleville Police Officer Jon Brough tells me he doesn’t, and he said he has metal plates in his head due to all the surgery he has had since being shot and blinded while on duty in 2006. His incredible recovery, the outpouring of support for him and his amazing upbeat attitude are all miracles.
He encourages others to contribute to the miracle of giving blood at his blood drive from 2 to 7 p.m. on Tuesday, July 11 at the Quail Club, 8303 Concordia Church Road, south of Belleville
Miraculously, I lost about 15 pounds during my neck ordeal, because I had a lot of nausea and didn’t eat well. But not so miraculously, I have gained it back, thanks to another miracle of the world — chocolate.
The miracles never end.