Like a million other people I have had a small spot of skin cancer removed. It was reassuring when they scheduled the procedure for a month out. Clearly they were not concerned for my safety.
The doctor was disarming. and put me at ease even as he sharpened his scalpel. Twice he
touched my leg, which is a small thing and yet it mattered. He asked me a dozen questions while he measured and stared at the side of my neck. Not the "Are you allergic to anything?" kind, which the nurses covered extensively. Rather it was a friendly chat. Anxiety loosens its grip when we exchange such niceties.
The local anesthetic they used did its job, making me blissfully unaware of the damage being done to two square inches in close proximity to my
jugular vein.
How do those drugs even work? What basement scientist wannabe first figured out that certain compounds turn off our natural defense systems? Whomever you are, thank you.
While he was sewing me up I resisted the urge to boast about my own skills with a needle, though I would have loved to have a mirror to watch his stitch length.
As I attempt to take seriously the instructions to rest,
I ponder the paradox of being able to assault another person's body, this time for good, without them feeling it. The maxim "This will hurt me more than it hurts you" has fallen from favor, and good riddance, but are there actually circumstances when we cause pain that is somehow not felt? And while I am down this rabbit hole, does the detail that I did not get the message that someone was hacking, then burning my neck mean that my body did not suffer? Is pain only pain if you feel it? Rather
like the sound of one hand clapping.
John wrote a song about healing.
"Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed;
Save me, and I shall be saved. " Jeremiah 17
The inclusion of that passage in scripture suggests to me that disease and its resolution are part of the human condition. What is even more miraculous to me, is that there are people who are called to be
healers.
