fostering the humanistic practice of medicine publishing personal accounts of illness and healing encouraging health care advocacy

fostering the humanistic practice of medicine publishing personal accounts of illness and healing encouraging health care advocacy

Esther Joseph Pottoore

One Step at a Time

It’s hard to be overlooked, especially if you’re quiet and shy by nature. So I developed a mask. A speak-up, in-your-face, gutsy personality—an alternate face! But inside I’m still shy and non-confrontational.

Food became my comfort. Was I stressed at work? I’d eat. Was I angry with my husband? I’d eat. Was a party too noisy? I’d eat in a corner. I ballooned, but I didn’t feel better. I preferred staying home, snacking, and watching NetFlix to going out.

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His Legacy!

As a twenty-two-year-old working in Saudi Arabia as a public health nurse, I was excited to be going back on vacation to India. As I landed in Bombay (now Mumbai), I got stopped by a corrupt customs officer who demanded money. He refused to let me leave and told me that I had to pay 5000 rupees. I was scared and angry but did not speak. He went to talk with his supervisor, who I assumed would be in cahoots with him. Standing there, I prayed to the blessed mother (Mary) and asked for her help.

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Saved

It was a spring afternoon in Kottayam, Kerala, India, and I was a seventeen-year-old student, doing my final two years of high school at a local college, as could be done in India. I was the student-body president, with just two months to go until graduation.

And in another five minutes, I was going to end my life.

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