Tuesday March 17, 2009
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Ps 139:14.
If my prostate surgery has been on the back burner for a couple of months or so, yesterday’s pre-op placed it squarely front and centre: an ECG, several phials of my blood secreted away, and a battery of questions about my health from illnesses and allergies to prescribed medication—all “no”s I’m glad to say. A new innovation for me is the armband I’ve been given and told not to remove until surgery—almost on pain of death. It contains a bar code which when scanned will, I assume, post all my statistics on a monitor for all to see. Shades of “666”?
The nurse remarked on how healthy I was. Thanks. But not for long. Shortly someone will be scouring out debris from my body like cleaning up a burnt saucepan, and stapling me up like a pair of old torn trousers. My dignity in tatters, I will have tubes going in to my arms and hanging out of the most personal parts, not to mention sponge baths and being helped around like an old crock. And that isn’t the end. Convalescence with some bodily functions sharply impaired for a few weeks, return visits to inspect the incision and have catheter and staples removed, and the concern for possible complications will follow surgery.
Perhaps the most amazing thing is that after so many people cutting up and generally messing about with my body, is that it will eventually heal itself. The psalmist was right: God has made our bodies a marvel of engineering with this ability to nurse itself back to health. Not only that, this same God is active today in our lives, in this case to oversee the whole performance. I am encouraged that almost every conversation and email ends with the promise to intercede for me. Thanks to so many of you who have supported us in this and other ways. God bless you all.