I have cancer, and this is no time for quibbling about what
helps and what doesn’t. Lots of people of different faiths have said they’re
praying for me, and I accept their prayers gratefully. Why in the world would I
be stiff-necked enough to say: “Nah, I’m an atheist. Save your prayers”?
And I am not un-superstitious. I read Tarot cards, after
all, and I look at horoscopes, and find profitable information in them. (Not
the newspaper ones, kids. The real
ones.)
So who am I to scoff at talismans and charms?
When my father was diagnosed with cancer in 1975, I was in
my sophomore year at Gonzaga and just on the verge of converting to
Catholicism. As you can imagine, I became very devout in no time at all. I attended mass almost daily, and said novenas, and prayed like a banshee.
Dad died anyway, in May 1976, despite all my masses and
novenas. But it didn’t stop me from believing, deep down in my soul, that
prayers and talismans are effective, if you only use them correctly.
For years I carried two holy medals on my keychain: Saint
Dymphna (who guards against mental illness) and Saint Peregrine (who guards
against cancer).
Somehow both of them disappeared from my keychain some years
ago. And look what happened!
I found Peregrine and put him back on my keychain a few
weeks ago, and told him to get back to work.
Also: Partner, being a cradle Catholic and understanding my
state of mind, recently gave me a medal of Saint Blaise (who guards against
afflictions of the throat).
Whatever happens now, I’m prepared.
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