Musings from a misplaced Virginian in Washington state

by John Pearson, Vox Verax guest columnist

(LP note: As a break from the more serious stuff, of which we post a lot, we will be posting musings from time to time from friends we think have something of interest to say....)

Here's the week's adventure. Returning on a city bus from three hours of dental implant surgery at UW Dental School Thursday afternoon, I wasn't in a good mood — upper gum swollen, starting to throb as anesthetic wore off, and I was popping gauze to absorb seeping blood. The surgeon had to drill through the side to lift my sinus enough for the implant to fit deep enough.

I couldn't hear the driver well, and he was surly as I asked him to repeat an instruction — that didn't improve my mood either.

Soon after I seated myself, a young man, a University of Washington student, came over and asked, "Are you partially deaf?"

"Yes," I said.

"I will pray for you and you will be healed," he said. "May I pray for you?"

"Yes," I replied absent-mindedly, thinking he'd do a prayer list during meditation later that day.

He laid hands on me and chanted aloud. People around us turned toward us in amazement. I guess the young man thought this was his moment to play faith-healer hero in front of a crowd, restore my hearing and make me leap up with joy. "Yo, Lordy, I'm healed!"

What I really felt at the moment, was dread at the swelling, night discomfort, throbbing and liquid diet I'd be enduring the next several days, and a stranger intruding into my personal life. Cold ice cream was about the only enjoyable dentist recommendation.

That was enough. I wasn't about to enter even a short discussion with this zealot, about why I wasn't in the mood, and my personal life. I would have felt something positive, besides energy being sucked out of me, if he'd been a real healer.

"WILL YOU PLEASE GO AWAY AND STOP BOTHERING ME!" I exclaimed. Taken aback, he slunk to his seat at the bus front. He sat in "The Thinker" pose, and never spoke to me again.