photo by Sheri Dixon

Monday, February 4, 2013

On a Wing and a Prayer

This is something I've wanted to write about for a while, but now is the perfect time.

Oh, sure- now is the perfect time because it's timely in that tomorrow my beloved Ward has (yet another) surgery and we're all scared spitless about it. *Spitless- it's oral surgery- get it?*

But that's not why it's the perfect time.

It's really the perfect time because I'm remembering that I wanted to write about it. Now, when I'm sitting down to write. See? Perfect.

So tomorrow Ward has surgery.

Not cancer- that's been gone for going on six years now.

Not a graft issue- this last (of three) grafts is holding perfect and strong, last week the cancer doctor verified that after the latest of his twice yearly scans. Said it was fully incorporated with the other tissue and no air pocket at all.

No, this is oral surgery to remove the roots of 6 teeth that have broken off- effects from the radiation he got almost seven years ago. The teeth are breaking off and his jaws are deteriorating. They have to get out the roots because they are both prime spots for infection and they hurt like hell. They started breaking off about a year ago- two at first, then started coming out more quickly and this surgery is a culmination of over five months of trying to coordinate doctors and tests and records and whatnot enough that my hair is a whole lot grayer and my frustration at having to second guess and think ahead for the medical professionals boggles me daily.

The point.

The point of this is that I used to accept the many promises we received of, "I'll pray for Ward" before any of our many surgery days with less than enthusiastic gratitude. I don't hate god. Truly I don't. You can't hate something you don't believe in.

So I thought things like, "Great. Prayer. That and $4.95 will buy me a small cup of coffee at Starbuck's." I assumed prayer was something people offered up when they didn't have the time or finances to offer up tangible usable things like cooking a meal for us or donating to the hotel/gas/living expenses while out of town fund.

Because most of the time we were extremely short on the concrete things of life and prayer seemed totally inadequate. There's no way I could offer up prayers to pay for our hotel, or put gas in the car, or get groceries with.

Prayer seemed to be "the thing you can offer when you don't really wanna do anything real".

But here's what I know for sure.

I believe in energy. Energy is a scientific, quantifiable substance. I believe in the direction of energy, and practice it myself- sometimes in bullheaded desperation but mostly (mostly) in a more orderly manner. I know it works. I've seen and felt it work.

And one day I realized that Prayer = Directed Energy.

Oh sure, there's a Middle Man in the form of the mythical Man Upstairs.

But what is 'prayer' other than thinking of a specific need and sending it in a focused way to its intended recipient?


And I'm OK with it now.

I still don't believe in the mythical Man Upstairs.

However I believe with all my heart in the energies that = prayer, and our family will accept all energies, prayers, jujus, thoughts and whatever else you can send our way tomorrow.

Please address all the above to
Ward Dixon
MD Anderson Cancer Hospital
Houston TX

between the hours of 7:30am and 5pm, central time.

Because this is the first time he'll be under anesthesia since 2010 when he almost died from a routine operation that he'd had twice before and I gotta tell ya'll- I'm terrified.

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