Written after my FIRST open heart surgery.

The Dance of the Nine Physicians

It began because of boy scout camp in 2004.
Never has a child’s activity affected me more.
Everyone knows about Old Scout Hill, for it has always been regarded as quite a chill.
And they laughed at my jokes about exhaustion from hill.

But to get to that camp requires you have be checked
I said Doc, hills leave me thoroughly decked
The doctor said lets run some tests, start exercising, and all the rest
And we’ll see if we can get you up to your best.

The exercise got rid of the huffing and blowing
But the doctor he was wouldn’t give up without knowing.
One day he calls, you must see a doctor,
Not just me but a ticker tocker docker,
And the exercise program I had you run, right now, this minute, it has to be done.

And the surgeon (for that’s who I have to go see)
Says he has a surgery for me.
To be nice, I can pick a date in the next week or three.
All this because my doctor ordered tests (not free).

So I say Doc, just pick me out of team of the best, a clean operating room after a three day rest.
I’ll take a week to shed my work, find a sub, I know its no jest.
Then a week to prepare my boys, so as not to shock my little joys.
I understand the choice is clear, have the surgery, or hand in my toys.

Now I am not talking, I m trying to get things done
But somehow the news spreads on a run,
dinners start appearing at the door
people helping who want to help more.

Now I’m not saying we have a diverse group of friends,
But before the prayer group collection ends,
We have a Priest and a Nun and a mass card or two,
Jews, Muslims, Baha’is, Buddhist and Hindu

Then come two ministers who call themselves friend,
Christians and Agnostics come without end
My kid’s teachers drop by, help make due,
Some of them make a pretty mean stew.

Before you know it was time to check in, Hop right on to a nice clean gurney
My wife said farewell as the doctor said lets journey.
To get started on my important go,
And for my conscious mind that’s all I know.

Now the doctor plugged a mask into a socket,
I felt all those prayers that rode with in my pocket
But they came out then and surrounded me,
Filling the operating room with glee.

There was the tall skinny Buddha lacking hair,
The dozens of boy scouts who set up their lair,
There were Torahs and Qurans and Bibles thick and thin,
And I had no doubt the surgeons were going to win.

Now I know in surgery your mind is out,
But all those prayers were out and about.
You can call me wrong if you try,
But dozens of boy scouts will not lie.

The physicians and PAs and NPs and all
Gathered their stuff and left by the hall,
Singing of the joys of open heart,
Putting together and taking apart.

The scout troop got together next,
They did their flag ceremony with zest,
And as they marched off with a will,
They sang a song about Old Scout Hill.

Some of the little prayer givers got out their Book
Let’s pick a standard prayer by giving a look.
God has given us His Holy Word to recite
So we don’t have to come up with our own ‘prayer lite’.

Some prayer givers disdain the printed word,
We will assemble a prayer on the spot, never heard.
We certainly do not written prayers recite,
We know, to some, formula sounds trite.

Then there were dancers, who danced, and kept themselves busy.
and spinners, who whirled, until they got quite dizzy.
The cute looking fellow who was tossing toys all around,
And people moving their mouths without making a sound.

There sure were a lot of ways to say prayers
Even people tracing mazes on dares
And I really felt honored you see
The diverse prayers that were all for me.

Everyone had gotten just what they wanted,
The physicians so assured it was their skills so vaunted,
Others because they were so ‘in good’ with God,
If they did not get what they wanted, it would be way too odd.

Mysteriously everyone left, by front or side door,
Some through the ceiling and some through the floor
Until for a moment suspended in time,
I was alone with physician 9.

Dear physician number nine
I do appreciate your help divine
Let me say, if it be Thy wish,
Why I think I was fed this dish.

I swear by the stars above,
This reminds me of my children I love.
Of my friends I have more than three,
It reminds me that they all love me.

But the part that confuses me is the part with prayer.
People of all kinds were there.
The prayers were not for their own kind
Why did all believe it affects Your mind?

And the physician who was divine,
Gave an answer to this speech of mine.
No surprise, he had more to say,
He knows more than me every day.

Of the love of your children you were already struck,
Back in the days of the pick up truck.
Of the love of friends you already knew,
Remember an earlier poem or two?

Your trust in Me is very strong;
In the middle of your busy life
You went under the surgeon’s knife
In trust nothing would go wrong

And you knew that even if you lost
You were willing to pay the cost
In trusting all I have done for you,
You knew I would watch your family too.

But lessons are not just about you
As you faced this medical strife,
What was learned by mother and wife?
Your trials can benefit others too.

But you ask me about the part with prayer.
You know I listen to all who are there.
“If it be Thy will, I would like to heal”
is not a cheat and not a steal.

All of your friends care for you
All of your friends are believers true blue
Each in their own way KNOW they know God
But know all of the other religions are odd.

There are not 19 ways or 9 ways to God but one.
Open your heart like leaf to the Sun
Even your atheist friends know the how
Before eternal Truth to bow.

Even those who reject your Way
Prayed to Me for your healing today
Perhaps someday the message goes through
That you really do worship God too.

Some say the group or the Way doesn’t matter,
That’s a myth I hate to shatter
For though they all reach to God
Frankly, some are more or less odd.

But it’s worse to say only one is right
Frankly I don’t restrict it that tight
Every heart that ever beat
Is worthy of my glory Seat

You thought your surgery was all about you
But, you see, that’s not the only true.
There’s something you did without being aware,
You brought hundreds together of all Faiths in prayer

And that is when I awoke
On the respirator I did choke
But whether my vision was real or dream
I knew right then I loved my team

College and grade school and friends in scouts
Everyone’s supportive when I’m on the outs
Everyone cared on my dreadful Day
And you know, I think, that is God’s Way.

This poem was written after a major medical procedure, during which I had the well wishers of a truly broad range of friends and family, from many and diverse religious traditions.  If you wish more information about this prayer, let me know.