Remembering and Honoring Anti-Miracles
During my recent sickness with COVID [1], I had some time to contemplate the amount of collective misery infectious diseases have inflicted on humans throughout history. My conclusion is, A LOT. An incomprehensible amount of suffering and misery. And that's not even counting the misery inflicted by infectious diseases of livestock or crops that result in hunger and economic loss. Amazingly, it has only been in the last 150 years or so that we have understood the causes of such diseases, and even more recently how to combat (some of) them effectively. Such knowledge and progress has been hard-won, and yet I am sometimes alarmed at how little value some people place on that knowledge. Clean water and sanitation, vaccines, and antibiotics have changed our world. I am especially disturbed when people think that faith in God can substitue for effective public health policies and medical care. It's like they are entirely ignorant of history--even recent history--and more to the point, Church history.
I've been reading through the Church's new Saints series on the history of the Church. The books describe a number of miraculous experiences in the history of the restoration, but I have been impressed that they also tell of what we might call anti-miracles. Many of these involve infectious diseases. Here are some examples I've collected.
Volume 1:
As the Camp of Israel disbanded, a devastating outbreak of cholera attacked its ranks. Saints who had been healthy only hours before collapsed, unable to move. They vomited again and again and suffered intense stomach pains. The cries of the sick filled the camp, and many men were too weak for guard duty... Joseph and the elders in camp gave blessings to the sick, but the disease soon struck many of them as well. Joseph fell ill after a few days and languished in his tent, unsure if he would survive. When people began to die, Heber Kimball, Brigham Young, and others wrapped the bodies in blankets and buried them along a nearby stream. The cholera ran its course after several days, clearing up in early July. By that time, more than sixty Saints had fallen sick. Joseph recovered, as did Nancy, Eunice, and most people in the camp. But more than a dozen Saints died during the outbreak, including Sidney Gilbert and Betsy Parrish, one of the few women in the camp. [p. 198-199]Malaria was a problem in Illinois. After describing Joseph's miraculous healing of Elijah Fordham:
Joseph’s efforts to bless and heal the sick did not end the spread of disease in Commerce and Montrose, and some Saints perished. [p.376]
Volume 2:
Some of the challenges at Winter Quarters and other temporary settlements were impossible to avoid. By the time cold weather set in, over nine thousand Saints lived in the area, including thirty-five hundred who lived in Winter Quarters. Accidents, sickness, and death plagued every settlement. Malaria, tuberculosis, scurvy, and other illnesses claimed about one person in ten. About half of the deceased were infants and children. [p. 37]During one of the westward migrations:
The elders in the camp fasted and gave blessings of healing and comfort to the sick, but cholera continued to claim more lives. Near the end of June, Jacob himself became too sick to keep up with the wagons. Other company leaders sent a carriage back for him, and when he rejoined the camp, the elders blessed him. His health continued to worsen, however, and he died on the afternoon of July 2. [p. 193]In Hawaii:
One morning in February 1887, little Jay came down with a fever and a cough. At first, Susa and Jacob assumed it was a cold, but the symptoms got worse over the next week. They cared for Jay as best they could and called in Joseph F. Smith and others to bless him. Susa marveled at the faith exercised in behalf of her son. But Jay did not get any better... Jay did not improve, and that afternoon, he fell peacefully asleep and then passed away just before two o’clock. Susa’s grief was inexpressible, but she had barely begun mourning when Karl came down with the same sickness. As he grew worse, the Saints from around Laie fasted and prayed, but nothing helped. The family was placed under quarantine to prevent the spread of the disease, and Karl died soon after. [p. 493]
Volume 3:
This is a tragic but instructive story that I first encountered in Thomas Alexander's Mormonism in Transition. It's not about infectious disease, per se, but still involves microbes. I was pleasantly surprised to see it included in Saints. It involves Hyrum M. Smith, an Apostle and son of President Joseph F. Smith (and grandfather to M. Russell Ballard, current Acting President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles).
Hyrum’s sickness became more serious with each passing day. He felt severe pain in his abdomen, a sign he had appendicitis. His friends urged him to go to the hospital for an operation, but he refused. “I have kept the Word of Wisdom,” he said, “and the Lord will take care of me.” On January 19, the pain became almost unbearable. Hyrum’s wife, Ida, notified Joseph immediately, and he prayed earnestly for his son’s recovery. Apostles Orson F. Whitney and James E. Talmage, meanwhile, joined Hyrum at his bedside and watched over him during the night. A group of doctors and specialists, including Dr. Ralph T. Richards, Joseph’s nephew, also attended him...[Eventually he was pursuaded to go the hospital.] At the hospital, the doctors took two x-rays and decided to remove Hyrum’s appendix. During the procedure, Dr. Richards discovered that the appendix had ruptured, spreading toxic bacteria throughout Hyrum’s abdomen...
Hyrum survived the procedure, but Joseph remained weak with anxiety and spent the afternoon lying down, unable to eat. Hyrum seemed to gain strength that evening, which lifted Joseph’s spirits. Filled with gratitude and relief, he returned to his duties as Church president. Then, three days after Hyrum’s surgery, Joseph received a telephone call from the hospital. Despite many prayers and the careful work of the doctors, Hyrum had passed away... A cloud of sorrow hung over the Smith family in the days after Hyrum’s death. There were Saints questioning his decision not to go immediately to the hospital. “If he had gone when first spoken to,” some said, “he might have lived.” Presiding bishop Charles Nibley, a close friend of the family, agreed. Hyrum’s faith in the Word of Wisdom was well intentioned, he noted, but the Lord had also provided skilled men and women who were scientifically trained to care for the body. [p. 272-273]
The lesson of these anti-miracles, in my opinion, was once expressed by Elder Boyd K. Packer.
The very purpose for which the world was created, and man introduced to live upon it, requires that the laws of nature operate in cold disregard for human feelings. We must work out our salvation without expecting the laws of nature to be exempted for us. Natural law is, on rare occasions, suspended in a miracle.
We can choose to be wise and use our knowledge and technology to help protect us from negative effects of natural laws, or we can leave ourselves vulnerable to their operations. But what we cannot do is expect or believe that faith in God, alone, will save us from their consequences. The few examples above illustrate that much. Remembering such anti-miracles reminds us that health is naturally fragile, and we honor them when we choose wise practices and policies that weren't available to our forebearers.
Notes:
1. If you want gory details of my illness, continue reading. I was fully vaccinated and boosted previously, but the updated vaccines weren't yet available. I had a few days of feeling something going on in my nasopharynx, but figured it was just allergy or a light cold. That changed when I woke up in the middle of the night with a fever of 101 F. I did a rapid antigen test, which was positive for COVID. The next 36 hours were miserable. I had to take ibuprofin every 6 hours to keep the fever somewhat in check, otherwise I was cold and feverish. I fortunately did not have a headache or lose smell/taste, but I had various aches within my abdomen. I also pretty quickly developed a sore throat, which made it painful to swallow. That's bad enough for eating and drinking, but when you are coughing up phlegm and having to swallow it, it's insult to injury. My abdomen made all kinds of noises. The collected misery, pains, and noises made it difficult to sleep. Fortunately, the worst of the fever symptoms ended after about 36 hours. I thought about people earlier in the pandemic who suffered fever for days on end, and I recalled news articles about people who were cavalier about the disease and ended up in the hospital surprised at how very sick they were. I felt fortunate that wasn't me, but at times the warning in D&C 19 went through my mind, "how hard to bear you know not." I speculate that the acute fever was relatively short due to prior vaccination, but I wasn't out of the woods. All of that abdominal activity progressed to diarrhea that lasted several days. Meanwhile, my cough, sore throat, and general fatigue and sickness continued. Although I was out of the acute fever, it seemed like any place of pressure on my body would cause sweating and I had some impressive night sweats. I awoke one night astounded at how soaked my pajama bottoms were below the knee. It was almost as if I had been wading in a stream. Sleep was not entirely restful, as I would usually wake up in the night and have trouble going back to sleep. Sometime after the acute fever, I developed a decent cough that made sleep more difficult. Along the way I had variable appetite and tried to keep myself hydrated, but the persistent sore throat didn't help. Theoretically I was able to stop isolating after 5 days, but I was still strongly positive by rapid antigen test. I finally tested negative at 10 days, at which point my sore throat finally let up. By then I had lost 10 lbs. When I looked at how the CDC defined mild, moderate, and severe cases, I was surprised to find that I seemed to fit the mild definition. Mild is not the word I would use to describe my experience, especially the first couple of days, but I never needed to seek medical care so I guess from that perspective it's appropriate. Fortunately, I'm mostly recovered. I still have a bit of a lingering cough, but otherwise I feel fine and have returned to my exercise routine. I lived in isolation from the time I tested positive to testing negative, so was able to keep it to myself. While I guess all's well that ends well, it was not a fun journey and I recommend trying to avoid it.
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