Tessa's Dedication (or What I Did After Seeing The Dark Knight This Weekend)

"Every Sunday after church, my mother and I would buy the Sunday papers and walk home together. Then she'd get drunk and try to make pancakes."
-George Carlin

Well, sometimes I have to reach a little to make these quotes fit in with the blog topic. This is as close as I got.

On Saturday August 16, 2008 my daughter, Tessa Sharron Brink, was dedicated at Morning Star church. It was during a group ceremony, so there was quite a lot to take in, as the church does both baptisms and dedications at the same service. So basically there were tons of babies, kids, teens, adults and families getting prayed over, sprinkled or dunked.

We chose to dedicate Tessa for a few reasons. First, we thought it was the best compromise between Valerie's Catholic upbringing and my Baptist upbringing. Some may not agree, but it's not your kid, or your decision to make. We did what we felt was right for our family and our child, and we're both very happy with our decision.

Secondly, we know that we want to raise her as a Christian, and we feel that a good way to start is to make a public commitment to do so in front of our church and before God. We want her to know that she can always rely on her faith and relationship with God, whatever life brings her way.

"But Dave," you say, "you ain't exactly the ultimate role model in this department. How you gonna do all that without being a hypocrite?"

Okay, first of all, your grammar is atrocious. You do have a point though. I'm not your stereotypical Christian. I swear too much, drink, am a little too proud, and enjoy quite a lot of music and movies that are, at best, of questionable moral value. Well, as Johnny Cash once said, "I'm a D minus Christian, but I am one." See, I don't believe that stuff is as important as my faith and belief in the Lord Jesus Christ. I'm not perfect, but he knows it, and loves me anyway. He loves you too, by the way, bad grammar and all.

The third reason we dedicated our daughter is that we have found a church that works for us. They're not much for tradition, and are fairly laid back about a lot of things, but there is a definite, real love of God and people at Morning Star church. One of the things they stress in the dedication is that we are all, as a church, responsible to help each other out on our spiritual journeys. From the infants brought in to the Kingdom of God to the grown man accepting Jesus for the first time, we're all in it together. I like that idea, and I like the church.

Tessa's dedication was quite meaningful, but quick. Our pastor, Mike Schreiner, held her and said a prayer for her and us in front of the congregation. Some super cute slides of the girl were displayed on the screens, and we had our little moment with the church, each other and God. As sweet as that was though, the coolest thing about the whole evening was that at the end of the service, Pastor Mike decided to open it up to anyone who may want to be baptised, something that he normally doesn't do. At least eight people, possibly more, came forward. It was awesome. Sure, there may have been a few who were swept up in the emotion, or felt they were supposed to do it, but I believe The Holy Spirit was there that night and working in the hearts of those people. That was the best thing I witnessed all weekend.

"The Dark Knight" came in a close second. Amazing movie, well worth the wait and my eight bucks. Heath Ledger's Joker rules. Great story, great acting, nearly flawless. It demands that you pay attention to it, and rewards you big time. If you haven't seen it yet, GO!!!

And go to church this weekend too.

Gall Bladder Blues (or Why I Didn't See "The Dark Night" This Weekend)

George Carlin once claimed that we shouldn't trust doctors, saying that "it's all a bunch of guess work in white coats." For the most part, I agree with him. I mean, really, how many people do you know who have been misdiagnosed and either suffered for years or completely ignored a serious condition because of it? Or, consider eggs. Traditionally they've always been good for you, and suddenly when I was in my teens we were told to avoid them. Then later we were told to avoid the yolks. Now some folks say the yolks are okay on their own without the whites, but only as part of some new diet fad. If the medical world had their shit together, I'd know how to make my omelet; and every elderly relative I have who breaks a bone wouldn't suddenly die of fuckin' pneumonia in a month. Once again, George is right and doctors are winging it. Sure, they go to school for years and most of 'em have a pretty decent success rate...but a guess is a guess.

However, there are times when one must throw caution into the wind, bite the bullet and go see a doctor. Sometimes it's because you've been hurt, and sometimes it's because you get really sick. The latter happened to my wife Valerie this past week.

Wednesday night, she couldn't sleep because of a severe stomach pain which crept into her back and made her puke a lot. Then it went away. Unfortunately, it came back on Thursday and it was worse. She got to the point where she couldn't sleep, couldn't stand up, couldn't keep anything down, and was relatively sure she might die. When she started making me promise that I'd finish Tessa's baby book, just in case, I began to suspect that this might not just be a stomach bug or food poisoning.

This conversation happened around three a.m.
Valerie: IT HURTS SO MUCH!!! Oh god oh god oh god (stop giggling you pervs, the woman was in pain)...David pray for me please!

Dave: 'Kay.

Dave says silent prayer asking God to help get her through this pain as quickly as possible. Valerie pukes. Dave thinks God has a weird sense of humor. The decision is made to go to the E.R.

So by seven-thirty a.m. it is determined that Valerie has a problem with her gall bladder. An ultrasound is taken, and a surgeon is to take a look and give an opinion. At this point we are led to believe that she'll be given some pain medicine and sent home, and we'll make a future appointment to remove the stones. Okay, fine.

By about nine a.m. we're being admitted and taken to a room, the surgeon deciding that stones or no stones Valerie's gall bladder is bad and needs to come out A.S.A.P. Now for those who don't know, the gall bladder basically assists the liver in processing fatty foods. Many people suffer from gall bladder attack for years before they have to have it out. At least, that's the best guess. Sometimes, though, women have the organ injured and inflamed during pregnancy, which is what happened to my wife.

The surgery is major, though not overly invasive. basically, they shove a camera up your belly button so they can see what they're doing (cutting down on the guess work part), cut some other holes to access the gall bladder, and pull it out the camera hole. Valerie's surgery went well, and by one o'clock the whole process is over. My wife is all drugged up, but also all better and facing just two weeks of recovery time.

So all in all, not the most fun Friday we've ever spent. Still, everything turned out okay. Sure, there was a lack of sleep, and the next few days are going to be a little difficult. In the end however, it's best that everyone is happy and healthy. As for the movie, I'll see it soon I'm sure. Besides, it can't be more interesting than sitting in a hospital room all day long, right? Right?