Here we go again!

"Here we go again!" Have you ever felt this way? It is almost like a car, when the water pump breaks, it is like a guarantee that the alternator is going to go out next. Or, when one part of your body fails, you know that another  part will follow. Let me give an even better example (a personal  one).

My back was injured at a young age, so I walked with a limp for many years. It got to the point where I needed back surgery. So, we did that, twice. When the back problems were solved, tremendous knee pain began. Turns out, during the period where I limped, my right knee was destroyed. A knee replacement was the only way to solve the problem. When that was solved, (I am sure you can figure this one out) my left knee, which had been supporting most of my weight throughout my life, began to hurt. Now, I am poised for my second knee (Next week in fact|).

The human body has a tremendous capacity to heal itself, but when joints are worn, that is a different story. Fortunately, the body will envelop the cold cobalt metal, and heal itself, leaving only a scar of what once was an issue.

Those of us with disabilities can either look at the deterioration, or the restoration. We can wait for the next part to fall apart, or we can relish in the healing process and the periods in between the problems.  The recovery period for a knee replacement is longer that we would like, but while we are focusing on the pain and the limitations, our body is hard at work adapting to the new reality.

Perhaps we can learn from our own DNA. It does not get depressed over what may come next. It just spits, and reproduces itself, until everything that can be restored, is restored. DNA does not sit around waiting for something else to go wrong. Your body goes back to doing what it normally does, replacing skin cells, cleaning the blood stream of bad things, providing oxygen to the brain, things like that.

The truth is, we need the help of others to remind us to be like DNA. Things will repair as well as possible, and we will have a new reality. The reason we need the help of others is that looking at the present is easy. Dwelling on the past doesn't help our present either. But, when we are carving out our own rut, we can see where we are, and where we have been, but we can't see where we are going. That is where others come in. They can see the future a lot better than the person in the rut can. They are on the surface and can see in all directions. They have the ability to lift you out of the rut and help set you on a new course.

So, here is a request. Remind me of what I just said over the next few months. Be my friend and help me be like my own DNA. Respond to this blog, email me. Google me, FaceBook me, talk to me on Linkedin, and remind me that it is going to get better. I need to focus on the healing process and look forward with anticipation to a new reality. Help me see it when I am down.

I Have Never Felt So Disabled

It was a delightful experience, taking my wife to the theater to enjoy a terrific musical.  The seats were near the front to get the most of the experience. I purchased seats on the aisle to be able to extend my legs to keep them limber. Though the seats did not fit my back, I was determined to make the most of it. Then, intermission came...

No matter how hard I tried, I could not get up. People wanted out of the aisle to go to the bathrooms and purchase more refreshments. They jammed together as they waited for me to get out of the way, but it wasn't happening. My wife had to climb over the top of me, and pull from the isle way.  Even that took considerable effort to get me unfolded from the shape of the seat. When she finally pulled me free, my legs would not hold me up, buckling with every attempt to move out of the way.

In all honesty, there was not one complaint from those trying to get out of the row.  They could see how much difficulty I was having, and though I was keeping them from their desired freedom, they were very kind. My wife was so encouraging and supportive.  She held me up, and waited patiently for my legs to hold me up. No, the frustration was only with me.

I have struggled with recovery from surgeries, and bore the pain of doing more than my surgically repaired body could handle.  All of those things were expected and approached them with a good attitude.  This was different. I was at the theater, and couldn't do what healthy people could do. I could not explain away what I was experiencing. Suddenly the word "disabled" felt so real.

I am no different than any other person with disabilities. We would rather ignore reality, adapt to what is happening, and move on. But, there are those times when we cannot pretend. At those times you know exactly what I was feeling at the time.  I have never felt so disabled. I wished I had Mary Poppins Umbrella and could just fly.

Life In The Slow Lane

I am learning that I have joined a new crowd. For the sake of a better term, I am calling it “The Slow Lane Crowd.” This doesn’t have anything to do with the lane I use on the freeway, but the way I must approach life. I have lived a pretty fast paced life with school, and ministry, and writing, and family responsibilities. People used to look at my activity level and ask how I did it all?

My new lifestyle is highlighted by knee replacements, spine surgeries, arthritis, sorting out night-time medication from day-time medication, naps, and waiting for others to do what I can no longer do for myself. I have hit the slow lane with my brakes overheated. I am barely moving, and I still feel like I need one of those run away truck ramps to slow me even further.

I find myself in the position that every generation inevitably joins. It is the period where I find myself quoting my mother. “You go ahead, I’ll be fine.” “Have you seen my cane?” “Do whatever you need to do, I’ll just sit here.” “Let me know when you need me to move.” I understand how she must feel using those phrases all of the time. I wish I could go, but as my grand father used to say, “My get up and go, done got up and went.”

As a new member of the slow lane crowd, I’m practicing slow lane etiquette, but I am not quite there yet. So I struggle, and get frustrated when things don’t work out the way I expect. But I am working at getting to know the members of my new society. I am shocked at how many faint scars I see across the knees of other slow laner’s.

Service With A Tail Wag

This week, while in the hospital, I was visited by a super hero. Not a fake one, dressed in a nearly perfect costume. My hero was a calm, unassuming service dog named Gordon.

Gordon is a five-year-old Cairn Terrier. He has been a certified therapy dog for nearly three years. He visits hospitals every week and has made more than 250 hospital visits. In the past year alone he has visited with more than 1,200 patients at St. Joseph Hospital.

The amazing thing about Gordon, is that he has no ego about his 1,200 patient visits. The encounter was not about him, but about me. He hopped up on my bed and started licking my hand, just the way my Jazzy does at home. He snuggled, just the way my Major does at home, and then he draped his chin across my arm, the way my Satchmo does. How did he know? I have no idea, but he seemed to sense my needs and went about filling them in a way that brought me comfort.

Gordon was the first service dog to visit me in the hospital. I hope that he is not the last. People want to know details of your condition. A service dog wants to know the details of your heart. They don’t care that you have been through surgery, or that you have a physical handicap. They just shower you with love in the way you need to be loved.

Thank you Gordon for visiting me in the hospital. Your encouragement made the pain a little more bearable. You made me want to see if one of my dogs would qualify for the service industry.