This past Sunday, just when we thought things couldn't get any worse, they did. It seems with our life lately, that's just par for the course. If our life feels pretty terrible, hold on because there's something even worse coming.
On Sunday, after a very nice Easter sacrament meeting (and a painful Sunday school lesson), we picked up the mail from the mailbox. In it was a large white envelope with a lawyer's return address. John opened the envelope before he'd even gotten out of the car and told me that he was being sued. This, of course, is in addition to him fighting for his career with Chelsea Hospital. (As a recap, he hasn't been allowed to work for six months now, and the hearing is scheduled for June 5-6.)
We were fasting, and surprisingly, I hadn't felt inspired to fast about anything, but with this, I fell down to my knees and begged God to give us the strength to keep enduring. You might think that I would ask Heavenly Father to take any of this from us, but John and I both believe that this is something we have been given to experience.
Thankfully, John has recorded the many evidences we've been given over the past six months that this is going to be okay, and I've really felt nothing but peace through it all, but there are times that I just don't feel like I can keep my cool for much longer; that my trust in God and my faith in Him can only last through the current trial. This was one of those times.
We then spent an hour or so watching three conference videos that I could find on having hope. "Sunday Will Come" by Joseph B. Wirthlin is absolutely beautiful, but there are more, I'm sure. After I'd had a good cry, I just took a deep breath and figured we could work through what we needed to do, if we just take one day at a time.
About a month ago, I was asked to be a temple substitute for the night shift on Tuesday, August 23. In fact, I was asked twice, but both times, I said "no", seeing that I'm already scheduled to work in the temple both Thursday and Saturday of the week. However, a third plea came through last week, and I didn't have a good excuse not to help. So I agreed.
Then, yesterday, Brother Hicks (the coordinator (and our boss) at the bishop's storehouse) called and told John that he needed him to come in that day at 3:00 p.m. to help. Since I was planning on going to the temple that night, I drove with John to the storehouse. While driving, John's lawyer, Louis, called and they talked about the new lawsuit and also about the expert witness, Dr. Starr.
Dr. Starr was asked several months ago to serve as an expert witness in John's case. What expert witnesses do is that they review the medical cases in legal disputes and give their expert opinions about the case. They have long and lengthy resumes of experience. Dr. Starr had reviewed John's cases and thought they all looked "reasonable" (that's about as good as it gets). Too, he was in disbelief of all the surgical cases John had done in such a short amount of time with so few complications. We all breathed a sigh of relief.
However, listening to Louis on the phone yesterday, he had serious reservations about Dr. Starr because Dr. Starr wasn't returning his phone calls, texts or emails. We know that Dr. Starr is good friends with some of the people at Chelsea Hospital, and Louis was worried that he had discussed John's case with one or more of those doctors and had decided against helping us. He told John that we needed to start looking for a new expert witness.....with not much more than a month before the hearing.
We felt sick. Literally sick. But we pulled up to the storehouse and John went in to work. I had brought some books to read, or I thought of taking a nap, but I had an idea.
I felt that if someone would just talk to Dr. Starr in person, maybe we could get him to respond. I didn't know his full name, but I searched "Dr. Starr Detroit gynecologist" and found Dr. Robert Starr, urogyncologist in Royal Oak. I watched a video of him made by Beaumont Hospital explaining what he does and how he can help patients, and he seemed very kind. I checked Maps to see how far Royal Oak was from the storehouse: 30 minutes. I took a moment to question if what I was thinking was the right thing, called John and told him that I needed to run an errand, and drove toward Dr. Starr's office.
My heart was racing. I had no idea what I was doing, but if anyone knows me, you know that I have no fear in making connections with really famous people (first horn in the Philly orchestra through FB?). I tried calling the office to get specific directions to his office, but I got an answering machine telling me that the office was closed. The regular business hours were 8:00 a.m. to 4:30 p.m....and it was 4:11. When I pulled up to the address online, it was a medical campus. Multiple hospitals and clinics all stitched together with walkways and cross walks. Unbelievably, I found a parking spot right in the front and walked in.
I literally had no idea where I was or where I was going. I saw a sign for "OB/Gyn" and figured if he wasn't there, they could definitely help me. Although they insisted they didn't know him, I pressed them to make a phone call and find out. They told me he was in the main medical "tower" on 2South. So I kept walking, asking someone every minute or so where I was going.
I finally found the door for the Urogynecology clinic. I worried that when I opened it (it was 4:22) that it would be locked, but it opened.
And in true performer mode, I walked up to the desk, explained that my husband, an OB/Gyn in Chelsea knew Dr. Starr, and could I please leave him a note? The very nice receptionist quickly searched for a piece of paper, and I asked to borrow a clipboard.
I walked over and sat down, not sure what to say in my note, but if I can do nothing else, I can write notes. I very simply explained who I was and my connection to John. And then the words started flowing.
I told him that we had come to Michigan, thinking that we were coming home after growing up here and having been away for 30 years. I explained that our connections to the University of Michigan are deep with my mom working as a professor and my two boys earning degrees from Michigan (Dr. Starr graduated from Michigan medical school). I told him that we had expected a piece of heaven here, but it had become a nightmare.
I told him how alone we feel. How scared we are. How we have never experienced anything like this. I told him that we don't sleep at night. That I have anxiety.
And I told him that we need help. That we need someone to stand behind us and believe in us.
I told him that we are decent, hard-working, God-fearing people, and that he would like to meet us personally, we'd love to take him out to dinner.
I told him that I had seen online that he had 4.9/5.0 stars which means he's an empathetic and caring person, and that we hoped he would feel that way about us.
And finally, I asked him to please respond to our lawyer.
I signed it "Warmly, Larisa Kennedy"
I then walked back up to the desk, asked the friendly receptionist for an envelope, and sealed it. She took the envelope and said, "He's just leaving. Let me see if I can catch him."
And I beelined it out of there, hoping that I could find my way back to my car. I took several wrong turns, and looking at my Fitbit, my pulse was racing at 110+, but when I finally got back in the car, I climbed in....and wondered if what I had just done was terribly wrong.
I wondered if my note would put the nail in the coffin and he would completely ignore us, or if he would go to Louis and tell him that my note was inappropriate, or would John be angry with me for doing this?
John had texted me in the middle of all of this, asking me if I was okay, so I called him back. I told him what I had done. And later in the day, he told me that he instantly that I had done the right thing.
I mean, in my mind, someone needed to put a face to our case. Someone needs to see how this is affecting every minute of every hour of every day of our lives. Someone needs to know that we are human beings.
I quickly drove back to the storehouse and waited for John to come out. When he did, his face was pale. He sat down in the car and said, "Guess what? Dr. Starr just called Louis and he wants to meet with him."
This isn't a bad kind of meeting. This is a "let's get our case ready" kind of a meeting. And John started crying. And I started crying. And we realized that what I had just done had been orchestrated by Heavenly Father.
On Sunday, after a very nice Easter sacrament meeting (and a painful Sunday school lesson), we picked up the mail from the mailbox. In it was a large white envelope with a lawyer's return address. John opened the envelope before he'd even gotten out of the car and told me that he was being sued. This, of course, is in addition to him fighting for his career with Chelsea Hospital. (As a recap, he hasn't been allowed to work for six months now, and the hearing is scheduled for June 5-6.)
We were fasting, and surprisingly, I hadn't felt inspired to fast about anything, but with this, I fell down to my knees and begged God to give us the strength to keep enduring. You might think that I would ask Heavenly Father to take any of this from us, but John and I both believe that this is something we have been given to experience.
Thankfully, John has recorded the many evidences we've been given over the past six months that this is going to be okay, and I've really felt nothing but peace through it all, but there are times that I just don't feel like I can keep my cool for much longer; that my trust in God and my faith in Him can only last through the current trial. This was one of those times.
We then spent an hour or so watching three conference videos that I could find on having hope. "Sunday Will Come" by Joseph B. Wirthlin is absolutely beautiful, but there are more, I'm sure. After I'd had a good cry, I just took a deep breath and figured we could work through what we needed to do, if we just take one day at a time.
About a month ago, I was asked to be a temple substitute for the night shift on Tuesday, August 23. In fact, I was asked twice, but both times, I said "no", seeing that I'm already scheduled to work in the temple both Thursday and Saturday of the week. However, a third plea came through last week, and I didn't have a good excuse not to help. So I agreed.
Then, yesterday, Brother Hicks (the coordinator (and our boss) at the bishop's storehouse) called and told John that he needed him to come in that day at 3:00 p.m. to help. Since I was planning on going to the temple that night, I drove with John to the storehouse. While driving, John's lawyer, Louis, called and they talked about the new lawsuit and also about the expert witness, Dr. Starr.
Dr. Starr was asked several months ago to serve as an expert witness in John's case. What expert witnesses do is that they review the medical cases in legal disputes and give their expert opinions about the case. They have long and lengthy resumes of experience. Dr. Starr had reviewed John's cases and thought they all looked "reasonable" (that's about as good as it gets). Too, he was in disbelief of all the surgical cases John had done in such a short amount of time with so few complications. We all breathed a sigh of relief.
However, listening to Louis on the phone yesterday, he had serious reservations about Dr. Starr because Dr. Starr wasn't returning his phone calls, texts or emails. We know that Dr. Starr is good friends with some of the people at Chelsea Hospital, and Louis was worried that he had discussed John's case with one or more of those doctors and had decided against helping us. He told John that we needed to start looking for a new expert witness.....with not much more than a month before the hearing.
We felt sick. Literally sick. But we pulled up to the storehouse and John went in to work. I had brought some books to read, or I thought of taking a nap, but I had an idea.
I felt that if someone would just talk to Dr. Starr in person, maybe we could get him to respond. I didn't know his full name, but I searched "Dr. Starr Detroit gynecologist" and found Dr. Robert Starr, urogyncologist in Royal Oak. I watched a video of him made by Beaumont Hospital explaining what he does and how he can help patients, and he seemed very kind. I checked Maps to see how far Royal Oak was from the storehouse: 30 minutes. I took a moment to question if what I was thinking was the right thing, called John and told him that I needed to run an errand, and drove toward Dr. Starr's office.
My heart was racing. I had no idea what I was doing, but if anyone knows me, you know that I have no fear in making connections with really famous people (first horn in the Philly orchestra through FB?). I tried calling the office to get specific directions to his office, but I got an answering machine telling me that the office was closed. The regular business hours were 8:00 a.m. to 4:30 p.m....and it was 4:11. When I pulled up to the address online, it was a medical campus. Multiple hospitals and clinics all stitched together with walkways and cross walks. Unbelievably, I found a parking spot right in the front and walked in.
I literally had no idea where I was or where I was going. I saw a sign for "OB/Gyn" and figured if he wasn't there, they could definitely help me. Although they insisted they didn't know him, I pressed them to make a phone call and find out. They told me he was in the main medical "tower" on 2South. So I kept walking, asking someone every minute or so where I was going.
I finally found the door for the Urogynecology clinic. I worried that when I opened it (it was 4:22) that it would be locked, but it opened.
And in true performer mode, I walked up to the desk, explained that my husband, an OB/Gyn in Chelsea knew Dr. Starr, and could I please leave him a note? The very nice receptionist quickly searched for a piece of paper, and I asked to borrow a clipboard.
I walked over and sat down, not sure what to say in my note, but if I can do nothing else, I can write notes. I very simply explained who I was and my connection to John. And then the words started flowing.
I told him that we had come to Michigan, thinking that we were coming home after growing up here and having been away for 30 years. I explained that our connections to the University of Michigan are deep with my mom working as a professor and my two boys earning degrees from Michigan (Dr. Starr graduated from Michigan medical school). I told him that we had expected a piece of heaven here, but it had become a nightmare.
I told him how alone we feel. How scared we are. How we have never experienced anything like this. I told him that we don't sleep at night. That I have anxiety.
And I told him that we need help. That we need someone to stand behind us and believe in us.
I told him that we are decent, hard-working, God-fearing people, and that he would like to meet us personally, we'd love to take him out to dinner.
I told him that I had seen online that he had 4.9/5.0 stars which means he's an empathetic and caring person, and that we hoped he would feel that way about us.
And finally, I asked him to please respond to our lawyer.
I signed it "Warmly, Larisa Kennedy"
I then walked back up to the desk, asked the friendly receptionist for an envelope, and sealed it. She took the envelope and said, "He's just leaving. Let me see if I can catch him."
And I beelined it out of there, hoping that I could find my way back to my car. I took several wrong turns, and looking at my Fitbit, my pulse was racing at 110+, but when I finally got back in the car, I climbed in....and wondered if what I had just done was terribly wrong.
I wondered if my note would put the nail in the coffin and he would completely ignore us, or if he would go to Louis and tell him that my note was inappropriate, or would John be angry with me for doing this?
John had texted me in the middle of all of this, asking me if I was okay, so I called him back. I told him what I had done. And later in the day, he told me that he instantly that I had done the right thing.
I mean, in my mind, someone needed to put a face to our case. Someone needs to see how this is affecting every minute of every hour of every day of our lives. Someone needs to know that we are human beings.
I quickly drove back to the storehouse and waited for John to come out. When he did, his face was pale. He sat down in the car and said, "Guess what? Dr. Starr just called Louis and he wants to meet with him."
This isn't a bad kind of meeting. This is a "let's get our case ready" kind of a meeting. And John started crying. And I started crying. And we realized that what I had just done had been orchestrated by Heavenly Father.
- If I hadn't agreed to substitute at the temple, I wouldn't have been there to drive to Royal Oak.
- If John hadn't agreed to work at the storehouse, we wouldn't have gone. Or if we hadn't gone at 3:00, I wouldn't have had time to drive to Royal Oak.
- If Louis had called us when he originally planned on it (at 4:00), I wouldn't have had time to go to Dr. Starr's office.
- If I had just waited a few more minutes to go, I would have missed giving him the note.
- And how convenient that his office was only 30 minutes from the storehouse.
We drove to the temple. I was late for prayer meeting, but it didn't matter. At least one thing in our lives had gone right.
Miracle Number Two. The day before all of this happened, I had received a text from our realtor, Kristen, telling me that another offer was coming through on our house. We had gotten an offer almost six weeks ago, but it was a low-ball offer ($700,000 on our $799,000 house with a return offer of $750,000). Kristen had told us that she didn't think we should accept it because, in her words, "I can get that price tomorrow for you," so we declined it. It seemed surreal at the time to decline anything, because we would have given our right arms for an offer like that on our PA house. However, when it happened, I can't deny that I felt nothing but peace. It was the weirdest feeling.
The hardest thing about declining it was that previous to that offer, we had 2-3 showings a week for almost two solid months, but once the offer came through, we had one showing in the past six weeks. It was hard to not second-guess our decision to decline it. Then, we had a showing this past Saturday, and we hoped that showings would start picking up again.
To our surprise, Kristen texted me and told me another offer was coming. Was it from the people who had just come through on Saturday?
We waited, and as Kristen said, she refreshed her email about a million times yesterday, waiting for the offer to appear in her Inbox. I went into the temple, assuming that the offer had fallen through and that we would just keep showing the house.
When we came out, I first returned a call to the elders (in a funny turn of events, they asked me if I knew the Lichtenbergs, and boy-o did I have a story for them!), but then I checked my texts. This is what I saw:
I read it out loud to John somewhere on I-696, and we could hardly believe it. Like, we were speechless. And in the email with the offer, Kristen simply put, "Call me :-)"
We had a full-price offer--$799,000--which is exactly what Kristen had promised us when she gave us her sales pitch to be our realtor. Never in a million years did we think it would happen, but there it was. And there are no weird contingencies. We sign on June 7 and need to be out of the house on June 17. It's a miracle.
What happens next? We don't know. We won't know until the June 5 hearing. And that, for sure, will be the most difficult moment of John's life. But what we do know is that we won't need to worry about a house payment if he loses the hearing and loses his job. And if we need to move somewhere else for another job, we can.
When this all began, Katrina asked me what she could pray for for me--what was my biggest worry--and I told her selling the house. With that out of the way, I'm starting to think that I might be able to continue to have hope that this will all work out.
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