Thursday, October 21, 2010

Take this body

Today I had an hour between appointments so I stopped home before I went to 12th Street Dental Clinic. It seemed a good idea when I set them up one after the other. Go to the surgeon get a few basal cells removed, no problem, then get over to the dentist. It wasn’t like I was getting a mastectomy, but the incision was a little larger than I expected. And having loaded needles stuck in your nose is not the little “pinch” they promise. Then came the yanking and hitting a squirter followed by the  smell of grilled flesh and what with the lidocaine not being quite enough, I left feeling more disheveled than usual. It wasn’t a big deal, of course, but it was starting to smart. I wanted to call my dentist and say I need to cancel, because I just had a basil cell carcinoma removed from my outside left nostril which would be like saying the dog ate my homework. The thought of the hygienist resting her vacuum pumps and tooth polishers on my face made me want to throw up. However, I can imagine dental people teaching you a lesson the next time you do show up, clinking their tools on your nerves and popping the drill under your tongue, so I actually drove over to the office to cancel. Luckily the stitches were still oozing and I hoped they would add credibility to my story. I’ll bet they think I’m a piece of work.

The stitches hitched up my left nostril so I look a little like Jack Nicholson with a sneer. Hoping it’s not permanent.

This timing of this is Providential, really. Possibly a tiny joke God has sent me. This weekend Denis and I will be at Zion Church in Lincoln, NB where we will each be speaking. My topic is body image and living with disfigurement, which is a serious matter. Offering my/our “our bodies as a living sacrifice” (Romans 12:1) is a daily effort and grows more interesting by the year. That God desires not only our hearts and minds, but our bodies, too, is a compelling argument for accepting them as they are with all their imperfections and corruptions.


Denis Haack said...

ANY time another human being uses a sharp instrument to dig into and tear off bits of your flesh it is a big deal. Not meant to be, which is why they always refer to "sharp burning flash of pain" when they insert the needle as a "little pinch."

Once a year I wish I could show up, they put me to sleep and all the various specialists do their nefarious acts, then wake me up, let me stay in bed for two days while sipping cosmopolitans, and then get on with life.

deborah said...

You are adorable and your blog almost always makes me smile!!

jenny said...

I like Denis' idea. Maybe you could open a clinic, and only have to juggle appointments, but rake in the bucks. :)

Margie, your talk was absolutely wonderful! We in Lincoln certainly appreciate your coming down and visiting. :) Very timely for us! Thanks!

Margie Haack said...

Jenny, what a great idea. Could you administer it? We did have a great time and were constantly surprised by all the "connections." We were blessed, too.
Denis! My partner in flesh. So grateful you've endured me all these years.

wheresurtreasure said...

Catching up on your blog today (my pastors orders) Though graphic and gruesome, this was a very kindred reading. Dh and I spent too long this AM discussing the possible (Russian Roulette) benefits of risky elective surgery...Dennis' once a year plan sounds good to me!!! Please hang out a shingle soon! Until then,where can I get a transcript of the discussion on body image?