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Atheism is a nonprophet organization
Sep. 11th, 2006 02:17 pmI remembered as I was waking up that I had a doctor appointment this morning that I had to fast for. I thought back to what I ate yesterday because the nurse had told me not to eat fattening foods. I had a turkey sandwich on wheat bread, some leftover Chinese food (nothing breaded) and popcorn for dinner. So I skipped breakfast and came into work before my appointment.
Apparently I am very healthy. My blood pressure and heart rate are “perfect,” my internal organs are all in the right spots, my cervix is nice and pink, and I now have no doubt as to where my ovaries are.
I also thought it was funny when I was trying to explain to the nurse that he was more then likely not going to be able to get blood from my arm and would have to use my hand. He kept trying and trying to tap my veins with his thumb and check and recheck the rubber hose. So I try again, “The Red Cross has me on the Do Not Donate list, my veins are very small, very deep, and are prone to collapsing.” (Trust me on this one; I’ve had the same veins for over 33 years.) So he tells me that going in through the back of my hand will hurt. “No shit dude, but it won’t hurt as bad as playing, ‘let’s find the vein.’” Finally he trusted my judgment and went in through the back of my hand. Yeah it hurt, but oh well.
I also keep thinking about the importance of this day. When I was in my 20’s, I read about the various wars, slavery, the concentration camps; the atrocities of mankind. I thought that surely those times had passed and that I would not see the same kind of destruction in my own lifetime. I was naïve to think man’s wickedness would somehow skip a generation, or end altogether. September 11, 2001, was a jolt in my otherwise ho-hum life where my main concern was what I was going to teach in Sunday school, or what to bring to a friend’s potluck. Just as my parents will forever remember the Vietnam War (which my father served in,) I will forever remember that day. I lost a co-worker named Scott, who was across the street at the time.
Apparently I am very healthy. My blood pressure and heart rate are “perfect,” my internal organs are all in the right spots, my cervix is nice and pink, and I now have no doubt as to where my ovaries are.
I also thought it was funny when I was trying to explain to the nurse that he was more then likely not going to be able to get blood from my arm and would have to use my hand. He kept trying and trying to tap my veins with his thumb and check and recheck the rubber hose. So I try again, “The Red Cross has me on the Do Not Donate list, my veins are very small, very deep, and are prone to collapsing.” (Trust me on this one; I’ve had the same veins for over 33 years.) So he tells me that going in through the back of my hand will hurt. “No shit dude, but it won’t hurt as bad as playing, ‘let’s find the vein.’” Finally he trusted my judgment and went in through the back of my hand. Yeah it hurt, but oh well.
I also keep thinking about the importance of this day. When I was in my 20’s, I read about the various wars, slavery, the concentration camps; the atrocities of mankind. I thought that surely those times had passed and that I would not see the same kind of destruction in my own lifetime. I was naïve to think man’s wickedness would somehow skip a generation, or end altogether. September 11, 2001, was a jolt in my otherwise ho-hum life where my main concern was what I was going to teach in Sunday school, or what to bring to a friend’s potluck. Just as my parents will forever remember the Vietnam War (which my father served in,) I will forever remember that day. I lost a co-worker named Scott, who was across the street at the time.
