National Without a Scalpel Day

On January 16, 1964, the specialty of interventional radiology and, by association, minimally invasive surgery, was created when an angioplasty performed by Dr. Charles Dotter resulted in a Band-Aid instead of a possible amputation. Today, hysterectomies are removed through the navel and gallbladders by robots.

Inspiring? You bet! But I took advantage of some tangential thinking to bring up something that I've had to deal with myself within my own family.

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Minimally Invasive Soul Removeal

Connor had cerebral palsy and was blind. Being part of a very religious family, every Sunday he heard about what the Lord had planned for us. Each homily went something like this:

"We have all been created to share in God's love, in an exquisite place called Heaven, where everything is woderful, everyone is perfect. It lasts forever. Compared to our brief time on Earth, in this life, it the bulk of immortal existence. Our life, even with incredible pain, is but a split-second on what our lives are."

Connor wondered, What in the hell am I hanging around here for? Wouldn't calling it quits shave off only a sliver of that split-second of my immortal soul's life?

"Suicide?" Father Jim asked. "No, it doesn't work like that. Killing yourself is a mortal sin."

Connor used his adaptive device to render a voice. His voice — with something to say.

"Then why'd God plan to keep me in this wheelchair? Why can't I see this so-called beautiful world? Why me instead of you? You would think differently if you were me."

He searched for an answer. "For the same reason I don't shoot someone right after I give them absolution. This life is both important and unimportant simultaneously. It's a duality."

"Well," Connor's voice answered, "for me, it's tilting way into unimportant territory. Suicide shouldn't be a sin. It evens things out, since we'll all be so perfect in Heaven. It's fair."

Father Jim worried. "What do you have in mind, Connor?"

"Exorcise me from this body. Then, I don't care what you do with the meatbag. If you're worried about mortal sin, then give me absolution and, you know..."

"It's not like circumcision, Connor. It doesn't work like that."

"Interesting analogy," Connor said. "While not necessary, circumcision's cutting off something you don't need. My body is like foreskin."

"But to extend the analogy, you don't need foreskin to consummate a — " Father caught himself. He was out of answers. "Just don't do it, Connor."

"If I do, I'll find a way to let you know if it works. That would be just perfect."

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I wrestled with whether to write this at all. The handicapped present a very sensitive subject because of how they've been marginalized by a society that doesn't realize how brave and noble they are. And invisbily so! In fact, it is something I've had to deal with in my life with someone very close to me, i.e., why wait? Some people have horribly painful or challenging lives. We should listen to them with whatever voice they communicate with.

This also raises a lot of discussion questions:

1. Atheists say religion is our brain's way of excusing the bad crap that gets dumped on us. Yet, spirituality is an entire vehicle for existentialism in those who believe; how does that change with those who do not believe in God or an afterlife? If there's something after, something really great — why wait? If not, why struggfle to take the high road at all and deprive ourselves in a life whose importance is just itself — when we all go out with just a whimper and nothing else?

2. Is this fictional piece selling out the "brave" and "noble" potential of those who are handicapped? I hoped it would be a wakeup for those who simply walk their paths with their tunnelvision on.

3. Is life itself, whatever the presentation, ultimately important or unimportant? Reasoned and justified...or absurd? And leave Camus out of it!