It was supposed to be a 12-minute procedure — anesthetized, wheeled into the operating room, surgery, and home that afternoon. Blood pressure 128/81. Perfect. Oxygen saturation, 96%. Very good. Heart rate 91. Not unusual pre-surgery. All systems go. IV attached and running smoothly. Kiss the wife goodbye, and I’m off.
The cold air and bright lights of an O.R. are always a bit of a surprise. But I was comforted by the familiar sight of a surgeon I knew and the anesthesiologist who had introduced himself minutes earlier. The machines beeped and booped as I drifted…away.
Suddenly, a bright light appeared in the distance! Vaguely I heard a voice saying, “Oh no!” but the light drew me ever nearer to its comforting glow.
And behold, as I advanced to the light, sights, sounds and more, came to me. All of my senses were alive! I felt the sensation of my first kiss.
Like Tom Jones, I felt the warm touch of the green green grass of home.
Yea verily, I advanced further into the light. It was then I saw visions of what was, and what could yet be. I was to learn about things I had only imagined. I was to imagine that which I did not know could be.
Suddenly a foreboding came over me. The air turned suddenly cold. I felt a clamminess the like of which I had never felt before. Something was amiss! Verily, verily, I say unto thee I beheld a dark image.
Before he could take shape the image spake unto me. “You have angered the Dark Lord with thy writings. Thou wilt pay for thy transgressions and feel the WRATH OF THE UNDEAD!”
Behold, the dark image appeared from the misty gloom. I recognized him for what he had perpetrated during his days on Earth. I knew, for the very first time, the true nature and true image of one who is damned for all eternity.
And behold, I was so afraid.
But suddenly there came over the Dark Lord’s face a flicker. The flicker became a grimace. The grimace became a scowl. His hearing, far more acute than my own, had discerned a noise. When I heard the noise a feeling of profound relief washed over me.
And a voice came from the cloud, saying “Leave him be, Dark Lord! He is one of mine own! BEGONE! TO YOUR SHABBY DUNGEON!
I fell to my knees and cried “Holy Lord, what must I do to please you and land in your favor amongst the lilies of the field and the birds of the air?”
He said, with a voice most sweet and melodious. “Be thou the best member of my flock thou canst be. Buy the tickets from the ticket office. Fly to away games. Buy gear through the FishDuck.com site for the finest value. Continue to worship me in My house…
…but most of all, my son. Go Ducks!”
I awakened refreshed and with a renewed sense of purpose. I knew my place in the world. I knew the calling to which I was meant to follow. I was not dismayed the doctor had removed my spleen and replaced it with the spleen of a mountain goat when he was only supposed to perform cataract surgery. I had seen the light…and it was good indeed.
Top photo by ên.wikipedia.org
Kim Hastings is a 1984 graduate of Northwest Christian College. He cut his journalistic teeth as sports editor of a paper in his home town of Fortuna, CA, and, later as a columnist for the Longview Daily News in Longview, WA.
He saw his first Oregon game in 1977 and never missed a home game from 1981 until a bout with pneumonia cut his streak short in 1997. He was one of the proud 3200 on a bitterly cold night in Shreveport, Louisiana in 1989 for the Independence Bowl, and continues to be big supporter of Oregon sports. He is an active participant on the various Oregon Ducks messageboards as “TacomaDuck.”
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