Liturgy and Surgery

Ash Wednesday has an extra layer of resonance when you’re awaiting the date for your second cancer surgery. “Remember you are dust, and to…

Ash Wednesday has an extra layer of resonance when you’re awaiting the date for your second cancer surgery. “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return” . . . and I want to retort, “Yeah — my particular dust has been infiltrated by pesky carcinoma, and I’m really hoping not to ‘return’ too quickly.” I’m in favor of theology and liturgy that takes seriously that humanity — like Jesus — has flesh and blood, and that our experience in this flesh and blood matters. I’m in favor of theology and liturgy that grapples with the reality of dust and mortality. And Ash Wednesday is the Anti-Prosperity Gospel Day: it proclaims the frailty of all humanity rather than promise health and wealth for the most faithful.

But still. This year, it hit a little close to home.

The day after Ash Wednesday, my letter arrived from the NHS with my surgery date: Tuesday, March 21. This is during Dave’s spring break (sorry, babe!), which helps a great deal with logistics. Everything after that date is To Be Determined. Recovery in the hospital is expected to take a couple of days. Recovery at home is expected to take a couple of weeks. Then there’s the possibility (likelihood?) of radiotherapy for three weeks.

So, maybe I could say I’m giving up cancer for Lent??

The most important news post-surgery will be whether they have clear margins with no more cancer cells. That is, of course, what we hoped for but didn’t get from the first surgery, so we’re not taking it for granted. Dave is a wonderful caregiver but I don’t think I’m a great patient, so a smooth and quick recovery would be welcome. We appreciate all the thoughts and prayers and offers of help. They are reminders that, though we are all dust, we are not atomized particles floating through the void of the universe but rather connected to some of the funniest, smartest, kindest, dearest people on the planet. That is truly something for which I give thanks.