Thursday, September 29, 2011

"We'll Be PRAYING For Her"

Tomorrow, at long last, we are heading for the Desert Regional Hospital in Palm Springs, early, for my wife to have a hysterectomy.  This has been an obvious need for several months, even strongly recommended by a gynecologist in the first week of August.  Now after weeks of arranging and re-arranging plans through her HMO and affiliated resources, the surgery is finally set for tomorrow morning. 

Perhaps - just perhaps - some great years of better health and a new lease-on-life will be experienced by this lovely lady in her early sixties who has not known good health since her mid-teens.  That's when the migraine headaches began, which have increased in number and severity over the years.  Because her mother who suffered similarly, was freed from migraines upon menopause, the hope was always there that at least relief was on the way.  But through many years of a debilitating menopausal marathon, my wife not only did not lose the headaches, but has found them ever more difficult and life-altering in recent years.  Today, it's a rare morning when she awakes and can fully open her eyes to the light.  There is that slight but overwhelming hope in my own mind that tomorrow's necessary procedure may also finally bring the relief her mother's experience promised.

But this writing began this morning because of something the surgery has unleashed: a mega prayer fest.

Amazing to me how many people, both close associates and mere acquaintances, have vowed to pray for her.  Not amazing they think that much of her, because she is a wonderful person, but amazing that this concept of saying words or forcing thoughts of some reverential type toward the open sky is offered in an effort to be of some kind of help to my wife.

Okay, before you simply stop reading, at least try to find a way to stay with it for a while.  I'm not trying to change anyone's thinking here, I'm simply revealing my own.  You might consider these words of mine as perhaps a bit of fluff meant to entertain, maybe similar to little grist-for-the-mill thoughts offered by the likes of the retiring Andy Rooney, or light-hearted humorous jabs more in the vein of a Garrison Keillor.  Any way you want to read this to make it palatable is fine; at least I hope you'll try.  And keep in mind all along that I very much appreciate the thoughtfulness and concern these folks are revealing by offers to pray.  I thank them sincerely each time.  They need not know I am thanking them for the humanity they are expressing, not for the praying.  It is thoughtful and considerate of them to pray.

But why, first of all, would so many thoughtful people suddenly want to pray for this lady who has been worthy of everyone's compassion for half a century of poor health?  Is it that surgery is a big scary unknown so it's obviously time to get serious about calling out to a higher power?  To be fair though, maybe some of them have been doing this over the last many months as they have seen her in pain while her organs rebelled inside her, preventing her beloved outings on the golf course, making even walking a terribly difficult activity.  She has been so excited to finally get to this stage of hopeful relief from pain, yet now is the time others choose to soften the voice and with ostensibly deep feeling, offer to pray for her.

Possibly there is a carry-over here from the Dark Ages, a time when the practice of medicine was also a practice in the Black Arts.  This was very much a part of the ethos in my former religious milieu.  Doctors were suspect in most every way, and certainly not to be trusted in life-or-death circumstances.  It was apparently feared that any trust placed in the medical profession was a displacement of trust that should have been rightfully held in reverence to a supreme being.  It was feared that this misguided trust would show disrespect for said supreme being and probably bring wrath down upon the head of such a reprobate believer. 

When I suffered an attack of acute appendicitis in my early twenties, it was put to me by ministers that if I felt that going to a surgeon was more to be desired than staying in my bed and trusting in God through prayer to heal me, then I should go to the medicine men because I had already allowed my faith to slip.  Obviously, in the eyes of those nearest and (in a few cases) dearest to me at the time, I could not allow myself to show a lack of faith.  I stayed in bed and waited out the storm of fear amid physical pain, and the poisons within my system were eventually overcome by a strong constitution.  This was trumpeted as a score for the faith camp, and the fact I am still alive is, naturally, a constant proof to many folks of the power of prayer.  The fact that I ceased believing any of that arcane mythology has not, I'm sure, deterred the faithful from their confident belief that I was healed through prayer.  The fact that over the past four decades, practically all of those faithful have turned to the Black Arts for medical help and now do so without any concern for showing a lack of faith, doesn't seem to lessen the hoopla over the importance of praying for someone's healing.  Call the doctor but call for back-up.

Again I say, the appreciation I feel for anyone's stated humanism and thoughtfulness during this time of looking for relief for my wife's pain, is a deep and real appreciation.  The idea that someone cares enough to offer to pray for her is sincerely well-received, by both of us.  The fact that I would be just as receptive and thankful to a person who, with apparent sincerity, were to tell me he would send over a pet Unicorn to visit my wife in the hospital, should not cast doubt on my appreciation.  Any and all positive thoughts of others will be well received.  If a friend calls to say his or her deceased grandmother was a devout woman who is no doubt still practicing her healing touch from the other side and will visit my wife (waiting outside the virtual door while the Unicorn is near the bed), I will thank the friend sincerely.  Should a Native American acquaintance tell me his father is a hatathali who will gladly sing the Healing Way ceremony on behalf of my wife, I will sincerely thank the man for the thoughtful kindness.

And while I am hopeful that these words are light and perhaps a little humorous, I ask you to consider something that will help you understand my utter sincerity in the whole matter.

If you are of any religious persuasion other than Catholic, and upon the imminent death of a loved one some Catholic friend offers to send over his priest to administer last rites, how would you handle the offer?  Aside from the fact the priest probably wouldn't do it for a non-Catholic, how would you feel about the offer itself?  Might you accept as a way of hedging your bets on behalf of the loved one?  Might you accept out of a dull surprise by the offer and not wanting to seem ungrateful?  Would you fear it might be offensive to the God you worship (or sort of believe in), to have this sudden relationship with a particularly strange concept?   Would you be so unkind as to laugh at your Catholic friend for even suggesting such an outlandish idea? 

And if you are a Catholic, consider how unimportant anyone else's opinion would be at that moment.  You're calling the priest.

In other words, whatever anyone believes is personal and important.  Personally, I'm a humanist.  I believe it's important to respect others for their depth of motivation, not their method of expressing it.

Please bear in mind through all of this that I am not an Atheist.  I have no horse in the race toward an afterlife and no personal concern one way or another as to whether there might be a supreme being anywhere.  I observe pain and misfortune befalling good people and I see health and prosperity heaped upon evil people.  Human life convinces me of only one thing: we're all in it together.  Being good to one another seems to me the best way to get through it.  Trying to convince or force others to believe as we do is futile.  Tiring, too.  And it would be quite easy for me to be irritated by all the offers of prayer for my wife because I see praying as a completely meaningless waste of time.  However, the positive thought it requires for someone to actually make this meaningless effort is itself, meaningful!

So, thanks for your prayers.  And your Unicorn or Shaman or deceased grandmother visits.  My deep respect is always paid to anyone with the humanity to be considerate of others.

UPDATE - - Sunday, 10/02  She's home and gaining strength quickly.  Already I've been told once that it was "due to all those prayers."  My respect goes to a top-notch surgeon, to medical science, and to a strong lady who maintains a positive attitude about the desire to live and thrive. 

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