Revving the Prayer Engine
Jul. 2nd, 2009 01:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dr_pretentiousMeet my brother-in-law Zach: when he's not saving the world through acoustical engineering (please note, actually saving the actual world), or playing with his band and doing his Latin-jazz-style percussion thing that makes all the women in the audience get up and shake their hips, he's home being one of the best dads in the world with my sister and their two very young daughters.
Or at least, that's his usual set of projects. Right now, he's waiting for biopsy results.
His doctors say, hope it's lymphoma, at least they know how to treat lymphoma. Man, you know the other possible diagnoses suck when lymphoma is your best option. My sister says, hope it's all just a big mistake, hope it's a gallstone like they thought before the MRI showed the mass on his liver, hope the whole problem just goes away. I'm hoping for a complete recovery. I'm not picky about what Zach's malady turns out to be, I'm not picky about how the universe orchestrates his complete recovery, I just want it to happen.
I hate cancer. I want to beat cancer up with a brickbat. I would like a year to go by without anybody giving me yet another occasion to write the Please Quit Smoking Because I Love You All blog post. (And, by the way, quit smoking, you. Zach thought just a couple of cigarettes on nights the band played couldn't be that big a deal, since they didn't have gigs all that often--he had mostly quit smoking. Take care of yourself. Live a long time.)
Zach could use some prayers. Has invited them, the more the merrier, in any form and to any being. Always does better in a tight spot when he knows he's being prayed for. He may be a nice Catholic boy from a Nebraska ranching family, but he asked his wacky tattooed Wiccan priestess of a sister-in-law to be godmother to both of his kids, so he means it when he says all prayers are welcome. He's probably never been in a tighter spot than this one, so I'm asking you, if you are the praying kind, and including a stranger in your devotions is a thing you're comfortable with, think of Zach.
May the best possible thing happen, whatever that is.
Or at least, that's his usual set of projects. Right now, he's waiting for biopsy results.
His doctors say, hope it's lymphoma, at least they know how to treat lymphoma. Man, you know the other possible diagnoses suck when lymphoma is your best option. My sister says, hope it's all just a big mistake, hope it's a gallstone like they thought before the MRI showed the mass on his liver, hope the whole problem just goes away. I'm hoping for a complete recovery. I'm not picky about what Zach's malady turns out to be, I'm not picky about how the universe orchestrates his complete recovery, I just want it to happen.
I hate cancer. I want to beat cancer up with a brickbat. I would like a year to go by without anybody giving me yet another occasion to write the Please Quit Smoking Because I Love You All blog post. (And, by the way, quit smoking, you. Zach thought just a couple of cigarettes on nights the band played couldn't be that big a deal, since they didn't have gigs all that often--he had mostly quit smoking. Take care of yourself. Live a long time.)
Zach could use some prayers. Has invited them, the more the merrier, in any form and to any being. Always does better in a tight spot when he knows he's being prayed for. He may be a nice Catholic boy from a Nebraska ranching family, but he asked his wacky tattooed Wiccan priestess of a sister-in-law to be godmother to both of his kids, so he means it when he says all prayers are welcome. He's probably never been in a tighter spot than this one, so I'm asking you, if you are the praying kind, and including a stranger in your devotions is a thing you're comfortable with, think of Zach.
May the best possible thing happen, whatever that is.
