God-Can-Do-It-Again-Kathryn-Kuhlman-Kingdomsermons.com_

doctor said. “The last blood tests showed you are at the
addiction point.”
I pleaded with him to let me have the pills. “I don’t
care if I am an addict,” I argued. “What’s the difference?
I’m hopeless anyway.” He agreed to let me continue—out
of sheer pity, I think. Only God and Fran knew how much I
suffered, but Fran was the only one I ever complained to.
Then, in December 1966, Fran had an operation. By the
time she got home from the hospital, I was a physical and
emotional wreck. That first evening, still weak from her
surgery, she fixed supper and began to clean up the
kitchen. I never tried to walk from the kitchen into the
living room alone because of those two steps, but that
evening I staggered out of the kitchen to watch TV. I
never made it.
As I started down the step, my leg collapsed. It just
gave way without warning and I pitched forward on the
living room floor where I twisted in horrible pain.
Maria screamed for her mother. Fran stood on the top
step with her hand to her mouth trying to stifle a scream.
She ran to me but was unable to get me on my feet. I’d
never experienced such intense pain.
I heard her fumbling with the phone trying to call our
neighbor, but her mind had gone blank in hysteria and she
couldn’t remember the number. The door slammed shut
behind her as she stumbled across the street in the dark
screaming for help.
Our neighbor and his three boys rushed over and got
me on the sofa. I was in a cold sweat, shaking and