Thoughts from the Operation Table.

operation theatreA surgery is a surgery, be it a small or a big one. When you are lying on the operation table, a whirlwind of thoughts cross your mind.

Just before I entered the OT a number of phone calls came, giving me best wishes. Most of my friends and relatives said they would pray for me while my surgery would be performed. When I was being wheeled into the OT I thought that more than me, the Surgeon and the Anesthetist, who were going operate upon me, were the ones who needed the prayers. I quickly closed my eyes and prayed to my God to guide the hands of these doctors properly. But Alas! I remembered that these doctors did not belong to my faith, so how could my God help me in this situation? My God would not be able to influence them. Suppose my GOD tells me, “Son, your Doctors do not belong to our religion.” What then would become of all my prayers and the prayers of all my relatives? It was a dismal situation.
I was moved into the Pre-OT room. A nurse came and pierced me with the drip line. She politely told me that I would have to wait for my turn.
As she moved out my mind went back to my God.
“ Please God , do something for the Doctors who are going to operate upon me.” I beseeched Him.
“You must be friends with his God. No?” I questioned.
Suddenly the Surgeon walked into the Pre-OT room with a confident smile on his face. “All is going to be fine” he said, as he looked at my white face. “It’s only a 15 minutes procedure, so just relax” he added and walked out. I tried to figure out which God he belonged to. I had been so stupid that I did not even ask the name of the Doctor before reaching here.
As he went off, I closed my eyes again and returned to my private conversation with my God.
“So what if he does not belong to your fiefdom, you should be friends with his God too. I thought all Gods were good and you must be having good relations among yourselves. You are surely not like bloodsucking humans who keep fighting over petty issues.” For once I hoped that I would get an affirmative answer. But none came. So I continued my attempt at persuasion.
Those who have waited in the pre-OT rooms would know the quantum of stress jutting out of every pore of the body here. Those 15-20 minutes seem like an hour.
Another paramedic came in, measured some vital parameters, and walked out. I still had about 10 minutes left to logically convince my God to talk to the Doctor’s God so that he would be blessed with the power to heal me.
I closed my eyes again and re-opened my negotiations with my God (as I had no one else to talk to in there). I felt that I should have told my friends that instead of praying for me in front of my deity, they must find out which faith my Surgeon belongs and prayed to his deity. What was the point of praying for me. My body was going to be in his hands after ten minutes. The thought worried me. My body was going to be in his hands! I was not going to be the master of my body anymore. He needed all the blessings, not me.
With these worrisome thoughts I closed my eyes and started my pleadings afresh – “Please redirect all my prayers and the prayers of all my relatives to the God of my Doctor. Please God, hurry up, my operation is about to start. If his God does not guide his hands properly he is likely to make mistakes. One wrong movement of the scalpel, and so much could go wrong. All my life I have worshiped you, so please save me at this hour. Okay, I have been a bit selfish at times but then I never skipped my prayers.” I muttered inwardly.
Just then two paramedics walked in, smiled at me, and started moving my wheeled stretcher into the main OT. I kept my eyes closed and made my final foray into asking my God to come to my rescue at this moment. Receiving no response, I turned adamant. “I demand of you to help me, my God.” I reiterated.
Still no answer.
My mind turned hysterical. “This is treachery, God. I have been your faithful disciple my whole life and you are not even answering my prayers, leave alone come to my rescue.” All was dark before my closed eyes. And so, with my heart crying, I issued my final threat to God. “I will renounce you once and for all, if you do not help me today.”
I opened my eyes for a moment, someone gave me a mask to wear. The anesthesia was about to start taking effect. I could see the Surgeon in front of me. My eyes were half closed by now. But suddenly, I could see a familiar hand going over the head of the surgeon. He was being blessed. Behind him, I could see a silhouette. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was the silhouette of my God. The God which I had seen in prayer pictures every single day.
“How come you are blessing him, does he belong to our faith?” I asked the final question.
“I belong to all faiths. I am ONE and the only ONE. It’s you human beings who behold me in different forms. I am actually formless.”
“Take a deep breath” commanded the anesthetist.
And I knew I was in safe hands now.


Written by-

Mohinder Pal  Singh


8 responses to this post.

  1. Posted by Aman on December 4, 2015 at 9:57 am

    Sir, very nice thought… I was also remembering this story when I was going for my surgery. We must respect God as he is the only one God…


  2. Posted by Sumit bhatt on December 25, 2016 at 1:21 am

    It’s really awesome great sir


  3. Posted by Brig R Vinayak, VSM on December 25, 2016 at 1:55 am

    An excellent story to put across reality of diverse faiths leading to same the path.


  4. Posted by SHIV NATH on December 26, 2016 at 2:37 am

    It is called the power of Faith. When u call him (GOD) from your inner by heart. He listened u and blessed u as well.


  5. Posted by Aman on December 28, 2016 at 2:21 pm

    I wanted this link…. really a true story….


  6. Posted by Vkk on December 29, 2016 at 7:07 pm

    God is one ,we humans are the once who differentiate,and many are very rigid, each one’s faith might be different but I strongly believe that it’s different path to the same destination, you had a beautiful experience lucky you…


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