The night before my early morning appointment in the operatory
with my surgeon, who would be removing my non-functioning gallbladder,
surrounded by monitors and machines,
I was suddenly filled with sadness about losing my wonderful fat-metabolizing,
gall-producing friend. I started talking to him, telling him how sorry I was
to lose him. (For some reason it's a "him"organ).
I suddenly heard a male voice, distinct and clear as if standing next to me in the room,
but originating from within my body: "I am glad to do this to save your life."
I immediately realized he meant it not only in the physical sense, but that he was also
offering to take all the resentment, sadness, anger, fear, and self-hatred away with
him when he was removed.
So I gratefully gave it all to him. I was so filled with hope and joy that I blessed every object in the room, the clock, the floor, the curtains, the adjustable bed (what fun that was to play
with!). I finally blessed the heart monitor, softly beeping by my side; and I heard my own voice tell me: "Let God be your life support, for God is your heart monitor. Walk forth in
newness of life."
My Ancestry.Com DNA test results had just come through on my cell phone an hour or so
earlier: England, Wales & NW Europe 36%
Germanic Europe 31%
Norway 17%
Scotland/Ireland 10%
Sweden 5%
Eastern Europe/Russia 1%
I reflected on the confluence of events: receiving my DNA heritage report on the eve of losing an organ. What does it mean to gain a deeper sense of identity and lose a part of yourself in the process?
February 2019
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