Today my wife has surgery. It's a routine matter, we're told. But, things that occurred in the period before today have caused me to think about the way our ears pick out one word in a lengthy conversation. Our minds won't let that word go. We may not even remember the rest what was said beyond that one word.
"This procedure is common. It's frequently done when this sort of precancerous result appears. I'll let you know I've done hundreds of these, and we have an outstanding record."
You do know which of these words I glommed on to, don't you? "Cancerous? Cancerous??"
A lesson from customer service and diplomacy: if you don't want to suggest the possibility, don't even say the word. This was a different setting. In order to have the discussion based on reality, the word had to be said. And the doctor has been a doctor for a long, long time. She knows whereof she speaks. My wife has tremendous confidence that all will be well. But, for the past few weeks I've had a leaden ball sitting in the pit of my stomach. The leaden ball wasn't dinner. Most nights.
I'm reasonably sure that, were the roles reversed - had I been the one subject to the surgery - I would have been the one hearing "It'll be OK." She would have been the one hearing "cancer." Loaded word, isn't it?
I'm sure also that there is a loving God - and it's all in Her hands.
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