berserker

Many years ago, young Scandinavian warriors had to go through an initiatory rite called berserker or berserkergang where they had to symbolically transform into a bear or wolf before they could become an elite Viking.

In the 21 century berserker continues.  Marines have to endure a rite of passage called the crucible.  This is the final test in recruit training, and represents the culmination of all of the skills and knowledge a Marine should possess. Throughout the crucible, recruits are faced with physical and mental challenges that must be accomplished before advancing further.

Today I was initiated through a chaplain version of these rites.  I watched a hip replacement surgery.  OH YES I DID.  Me!  The one who used to get light headed when people removed their band aids.  The one who had to put her head between her knees when people talked about the scratch in their throats.  In the words of Jenn and Barb "Who are you?"

Each of the chaplains were invited to spend a morning in surgery so we could get a better sense of what our patients had just been through.  It started with a 30 minute video on every possible aspect of a germ, and dressing in scrubs, cap, shoe coverings and a mask.  I figured if I did faint, at least no one would know who I was.

My first surgery was a lapriscopic gall bladder removal.  Though I was standing next to the patient, I could watch the whole thing on a large, flat screen TV that the doctor was looking at.  I got an inside view of a kidney, the stomach, some fat and some muscle.  And then the problem gall bladder.  I counted eight stones on the xray, luckily none in the gall tube.  (come on medical people, what is it really called?)  Then, amazingly, through one of the little incisions they had made in the abdomen, out came the gall bladder.  Here's the cool part.  I got to hold it and feel around for the stones.

The second surgery I was a bit more leary about.  But I thought it would be interesting to see what my husband, Steve's patients go through. (physical therapy after hip surgery.)  I could write pages about it.  But here are the headlines.  Knives, a saw, a pick, a hammer, blood dripping, blood spurting, a tiny blow torch, lots of scraping, the head of the femur put on the table 6 inches from my face, cement, screws, many needles, lots of thread, staples.  It was like halloween and armeggedon and the crusades and a Wes Craven movie all rolled into one little sterile room. 

And there I stood, yep, just stood quietly, in awe of the team work, admiring the doctor's skill, aware of the sleeping patient, and then amazed that I wasn't faint or queezy or gagging.  I survived!   I realized that I had really gone berserker and survived the crucible and become a bona fide hospital chaplain.

He will rescue them from oppression and violence, for precious is their blood in his sight.  Psalm 72:14