My name is Nissim Elkayam, from the Achisamach neighborhood in Lod. Over a year and a half ago I met with a speech therapist, as I was having difficulty talking. I felt I had to strain myself in order to speak, and I was hoping he’d have a solution for me. He sent me to an ear, nose and throat specialist, who would check me with a special, expensive machine that can be found only in hospitals. This machine shows an accurate display of the vocal cords while a person is speaking.
The results were not encouraging. There was a polyp sitting on my vocal cords, preventing them from closing properly while I was speaking.
“The only way to get rid of such a polyp,” the doctor told me, “is through surgery. Do you want to have the surgery done now, or wait another half a year and then see what the situation is?”
I chose to wait. I hoped that within half a year a miracle would happen and the polyp would disappear on its own. I davened for this from the depths of my heart, going to the Kosel and to kivrei tzaddikim. During the Yamim Nora’im I also begged Hashem to spare me the surgery. It’s not a simple surgery. After the surgery, the patient is not allowed to speak for three days. Someone else told me that I wouldn’t be able to say one word for a full week, and afterward I would have to be very careful not to strain my voice. I was terrified of the recovery period and, of course, of the surgery itself.
The year progressed, and the time for my next appointment arrived. The doctor examined me, and with a serious demeanor he informed me that not only was there no improvement, but in fact the situation had deteriorated and the polyp was now bigger.
We set a date for the surgery.
I left the doctor’s office thinking that I had exaggerated my hopes with my tefillos. What was I thinking – that I would experience a miracle?
The day of my scheduled surgery arrived. I fasted as per the doctor’s instructions and checked into the pre-op ward, where preparations for surgery began. I put on a hospital gown, and at 2 p.m. I was wheeled into surgery. They secured me to the bed and positioned the light on top of me. The anesthesiologist was there, ready to do his work.
Suddenly, the doctor approached me and said, “Say a few words.”
I said something.
“Based on the way your voice sounds, you don’t need surgery!” he declared. It was decidedly unpleasant for him to face the entire staff standing poised to operate on my vocal cords. “Come up to my office, please, and I’ll reexamine you,” he said.
I was shocked by the sudden turnaround. I pulled myself together and went up to the doctor’s office. He inserted the special tube that photographs the vocal cords, and wonder of wonders: My vocal cords closed completely when I spoke. The polyp had disappeared! There was no trace of that complicated problem, nothing at all.
“This is very rare,” he said. “This type of surgery is cancelled on average once in eleven years. You can go home.”
That was it. I was released.
I speak with ease now; my vocal cords work exactly as they need to work. Blessed is He Who
