Your healing touch..!

I’d never been one to visit the sick and always felt my wife, a doctor did enough visiting at her hospital for both of us, but this time I had to go. He was an old man, well into his eighties and I had always been particularly fond of him.
I entered his room in the hospital and found him bent with his back to me doing something to his leg. I walked up and gently touched him, “Bob,” he said, “my leg hurts!”
It was an old leg, wrinkled and gnarled. “It’ll go away,” I said and then watched him as he tried to massage it. I couldn’t bear seeing him in pain any longer, I sat down, placed my hands on the part that hurt and slowly started pressing it.
Suddenly I did not see the wrinkles nor the tired veins that accepted my touch. I massaged for a good fifteen minutes and when I looked up he had tears in his eyes. “Thanks Bob,” he said. He was discharged the next day.
That day as I left the hospital I realised how significant my touch had been. I remembered my mother when I was a child, spending hours rubbing balm on my painful limbs, pressing the hurting flesh and her touch worked more than the best medication!
An Ohio University study of heart disease in the 1970’s was conducted on rabbits. Consistent results began to appear in all the rabbit groups except for one, which strangely displayed sixty per cent fewer symptoms! Nothing in the rabbits physiology could account for their high tolerance to the diet, until one day while watching the rabbits being fed it was discovered that the student who was in charge of feeding those particular rabbits liked to fondle and pet them. He would hold each rabbit lovingly for a few minutes and then feed it!
Astonishingly, this alone enabled the animals to overcome their sickness. Repeat experiments in which one group of animals was treated neutrally while the other group were loved came up with similar results! It is baffling to think that the mind of a rabbit has a response that can be triggered off by cuddling!
I recollect a few years ago my father falling sick in America. I remember him wanting to come home to India. My brother flew to America and brought him back. “Why did you want to come back?” I asked, “Didn’t you have the best treatment over there?”
“I missed people!” he said and I watched as his friends and mine came and spent time with him, held his hands. “Shouldn’t they wash their hands?” I asked. “Let them,” said my dad, “I like their touch!” It’s not flowers my friend, or a get well card, it’s your healing touch that someone sick in bed needs to feel today..!
— Email:bobsbanter@gmail.com