When I became ill, I started to experience what my patients had suffered under my care.
Kent Brantly
I wasn't afraid of treating Ebola patients in the isolation unit. That was the safest job. But seeing patients in the clinic, seeing patients in the emergency room, being in the community - those things gave me pause.
I've thought a lot about the moment when I was infected with Ebola.
When you go a week without seeing a human face, that does something to you.
I am very convinced that I did not contract Ebola in the isolation unit, because our process is so safe.
God blessed me with a peace that surpasses understanding.
Losing so many patients certainly was difficult, but it didn't make me feel like a failure as a physician, because I had learned that there was so much more to being a physician than curing illness. That's not the most important thing we do. The most important thing we do is enter into the suffering of others.
Even with the bad news, I felt calm. I never shed a tear when I called my wife and said, 'Amber, my test is positive. I have Ebola.'
What I can tell you is that I serve a faithful God who answers prayers.
In theory, and I think in practice, I am immune to the strain of Ebola that I was infected with. But there are five different strains of Ebola.
Please continue to pray for and bring attention to those suffering in the ongoing Ebola crisis in West Africa.
There are a lot of health care providers in this country who have a very deep sense of service and compassion for the suffering of others, who are motivated to go to West Africa despite the risks of infection and death. And doctors and nurses face those risks every day regardless of their setting.
Pray for the people of West Africa. You cannot be apathetic towards people for whom you are earnestly praying.
My 4-year-old son prays every night for his best friend who is the same age - our next door neighbor in Liberia, a little Liberian boy: 'Dear God, please don't let him get Ebola.' I'm proud of him for thinking about his friend and praying for him but that's not a prayer that a 4-year-old should have to consider.
The nature of Ebola is that health-care workers are predominantly affected because of the way that it is spread.
I know that some consider it controversial for me to claim that God saved my life when I had received an experimental drug and some of the greatest medical care available in the world. I can see how these two realities appear to contradict each other.
Through the care of the Samaritan's Purse and SIM missionary team in Liberia, the use of an experimental drug, and the expertise and resources of the health care team at Emory University Hospital, God saved my life - a direct answer to thousands and thousands of prayers.
Ebola's a terrifying disease.
On Octover 16th, 2013, I moved to Liberia with my family to serve as a medical missionary at ELWA Hospital in the capital city of Morovia.
As the Ebola virus continued to consume my patients, I witnessed the horror this disease visits upon its victims, the intense pain and humiliation of those who suffer with it.
When a person survives Ebola, when they recover, they're not a carrier of the virus.
Just like medicine anywhere else, I get to walk through life with people in the midst sometimes of their most difficult and challenging circumstances they've faced - a terminal diagnosis, bad news, poor prognosis - and also the most joyful times with people, like the birth of a new baby.
I've had time to reflect on what happened to me. Am I the same person I was before Ebola? In a lot of ways, yes. I don't live every moment with a conscious awareness of what I've been through.
I chose a career in medicine because I wanted a tangible skill with which to serve people. And so my role as a physician is my attempt to do that.
Faith is central to my life. I am who I am, I do what I do because of my faith.
You never know who is walking around with a fever who took some Tylenol to make themselves feel better.
Changing people's beliefs and altering behaviors is a very difficult challenge in any setting.
My wife Amber and I, along with our two children, did not move to Liberia for the specific purpose of fighting Ebola.
You are going to share in the most intimate parts of your patients' lives. You will share in their moments of tragedy. But you will also share in their moments of greatest joy.
Ebola is a humiliating disease that strips you of your dignity. You are removed from family and put into isolation where you cannot even see the faces of those caring for you due to the protective suits - you can only see their eyes.
Even when I was facing death, I remained full of faith. I did not want to be faithful to God all the way up to serving in Liberia for ten months, only to give up at the end because I was sick.
Ebola has changed everything in West Africa. We cannot sit back and say, 'Oh, those poor people.' We must think outside the box and find ways to help.
