The Science of Life
02/06/09 08:00
The swishing sound of the machine fascinates me.
I’m hearing the synthesized sound of blood
flowing through one of my mother’s arteries. On
the screen is a flash of fiery orange and red
against a cold backdrop of black and grey. The
technician is manipulating some lines and
crosshairs as he holds a cold plastic wand
against Mom’s neck. Like a virtuoso musician he
resets the crosshairs with casual precision, then
listens to the new swish of blood as it travels
through her body. Over and over the process
repeats.
My mother is preparing for quadruple bypass surgery tomorrow. A routine exam last week revealed a ticking bomb in her chest. Ever-so-quietly, the arteries providing her heart with life had ceased to do their job. It was a matter of time before her heart ceased to do its own life-giving work. This ultrasound technician was now checking her other arteries for problems, and for potential spare veins that could replace the killers wrapped around her heart.
What is this marriage of science and life, this embrace of technology and biology? I’m used to causing my hands to run fluidly over the keys of a piano to create sounds that lift (or perhaps disturb) people’s spirits. This technician was doing the same with this hands and intricate lab equipment to look at signs of life hidden inside my mother’s body. Although it was like seeing an artist at work, it seemed cold, calculated, measured. Yet it would prolong my mother’s life, creating more opportunities for warmth, spontaneity, and love.
X-rays were taken. Blood was drawn. Plans were drawn up. One by one, we realized an entire team of scientific artists had been gathered together to give a new chapter of life to my mother. Kind, compassionate people who would use the cold plastic and steel of computer and scalpel to breathe life into a tired heart. I am sitting here amazed and humbled that we are on the receiving end of this care.
Sometimes God heals through miracles of the supernatural. Sometimes he chooses to heal though the miracles of cold, hard science. I am grateful for both.
n
My mother is preparing for quadruple bypass surgery tomorrow. A routine exam last week revealed a ticking bomb in her chest. Ever-so-quietly, the arteries providing her heart with life had ceased to do their job. It was a matter of time before her heart ceased to do its own life-giving work. This ultrasound technician was now checking her other arteries for problems, and for potential spare veins that could replace the killers wrapped around her heart.
What is this marriage of science and life, this embrace of technology and biology? I’m used to causing my hands to run fluidly over the keys of a piano to create sounds that lift (or perhaps disturb) people’s spirits. This technician was doing the same with this hands and intricate lab equipment to look at signs of life hidden inside my mother’s body. Although it was like seeing an artist at work, it seemed cold, calculated, measured. Yet it would prolong my mother’s life, creating more opportunities for warmth, spontaneity, and love.
X-rays were taken. Blood was drawn. Plans were drawn up. One by one, we realized an entire team of scientific artists had been gathered together to give a new chapter of life to my mother. Kind, compassionate people who would use the cold plastic and steel of computer and scalpel to breathe life into a tired heart. I am sitting here amazed and humbled that we are on the receiving end of this care.
Sometimes God heals through miracles of the supernatural. Sometimes he chooses to heal though the miracles of cold, hard science. I am grateful for both.
n