The Healing Craft and Christian Demons

I extracted the hermetically sealed, sterile staple puller from the document wallet and handed it to my normally jolly, silver-haired GP. He carefully checked the hospital discharge note as I remarked on how stitches these days had been replaced with rows of steel, croquet hoop-shaped staples.

Even though the removal process appeared more ominous than it really was and the pain inflicted by the staple puller was minimal, he tried to distract me with idle conversation as he plucked each croquet hoop that had been holding together the newly-formed railroad track on my abdomen.

Having already been reprimanded for ‘overdoing it’ post a supposed major operation, I guess he thought he was being benign in asking me what the meeting was that I insisted on attending earlier in the week rather than lying in bed, prone and recuperating.

‘It’s about a website I’m creating,’ I answered.

. . . pluck, pluck, pluck . . .

It didn’t take much to anticipate the next question. Sure enough, ‘what is the website about?’ he asked.

. . . pluck, pluck, pluck . . .

Momentary silence.

‘It’s an Occult data base of sorts,’ I replied.

More silence.

Mid-air hesitation of staple plucker.

Change of conversation.

. . . pluck, pluck, pluck . . .

The task at hand duly completed, me zipped up and sat beside his desk, the admonishment continued; I needed to take it easy and allow the body to heal; that I should not be rushing about, especially on a website project which, he spat:-

‘I hope fails.’

Almost as if a flick-switch had been triggered, my voice dropped to a kindly whisper as I replied with a mild showing of surprise — ‘really, why’s that?’

‘Because I don’t like the Occult. It’s real. And it’s dangerous,’ he hastily retorted.

‘You’re right,’ I said, ‘it is real and it is dangerous,’ and continued with:

‘Would it surprise you to learn Doctor, that much of our practise is working with the dying and giving requested healing; healing that is sympathetic to professional medical advice and works in conjunction with prescribed treatments? We work with the medical world, not against or in place of it.’

He squirmed uncomfortably, voice-pitch slightly raised, face veiled in a subtle shade of genuine fear.

‘Well,’ he stammered, ‘I, I come from a Christian background . . .’ his voice trailed off as he turned his gaze out the window and I took pity on a grown, well-educated doctor of several decades, clearly scared and projected out of his comfort zone, by parting with only a softly whispered ‘I wasn’t aware that the Christians had a monopoly on healing.’

And now, for some much needed rest, I’ll resume my self-healing.