But, the passage of time was irrelevant to me, as I slipped into unconsciousness during the operation. I do not know how long I was under the anesthesia. I was then wheeled into the surgery room. I had no concept of a sin or being a sinner, but I simply thought that if there was a god, I would be “alright” now if something happened. Once the priest was done, I immediately felt better. And so, he prayed softly to himself for my safe recovery as he anointed my hands and my feet with holy oil. After briefly talking to me and sensing my ignorance, he said that he would anoint me. And, bless his heart, I had no idea that I was to confess anything to him.īut, this holy priest was a good man. And so, despite being agnostic-a person who was trying to find God in all the wrong places, I asked my mom to call a Catholic priest.Īnd so, this Catholic priest stood before me as I was lying on the bed, awaiting to be wheeled into the surgery room. And certainly, I had no experience in going to the Sacrament of Confession.īut, all I knew was that if one feared dying, a priest was to be called. I had never received my First Holy Communion, nor was I ever Confirmed. I had attended Sunday mass infrequently as a child, but never went to Sunday school, nor did I have any type of Catholic education. I had been baptized as an infant into the Catholic faith. Or, at least, I had never professed to be one in my adult life. ![]() I asked my mom to call a Catholic priest. So, surgery was required, and I had never had something so major a trauma like this before. The doctors had tried a cast but it was not working because of the type of break I had on my bones. But none of their words were comforting to me. The surgeon had briefly met with me beforehand to explain generally what would take place. It was half an hour until my scheduled surgery would begin.
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