Godstoppedby

Sunday, February 27, 2022

17. 31. 33. Who's counting anyway? We are.

Ever have soneone tell you that you shouldn't complain about what's going on in your life, because there's always someone worse off than you? While this is true, it kind of erases our pain and struggle, as if to say we have no right to feel the way we feel. This is really a poor way of helping someone out when they're in a difficult part of their journey. Like our family is right now. Today while in the hospital with Adam for his most recent shunt revision operation, we met the mom of one of his friends from when he went to a program for people with disabilities. She found out we were in because her son and Adam share the same neurosurgeon. One of the nurse practioners let each of us know about the other one. We were right down the hall from each other. It was good to see her and catch up, even though it was about medical issues. She was talking about her son; his 17th shunt revision. As we talked, I realized that wasn't accurate. I told her Adam was in for #33. No, she said, I mean 17 since May of 2021. Prior to this, Spencer had 14 surgeries. 14+17=31. 22 years old, 31 procedures. 17 in less than a year. One hospital stay was 3 months long with several different shunts and revisions and infections and externalizations of the tubing and switching out all of the hardware and replacing it with new hardware. Adam has gone through this too, so I knew without lots of explaining what her son was going through. If I agreed with those who say not to complain because there's always someone worse off than you, then I would stuff all the suffering Adam and our family have been enduring because his friend was surely worse off than Adam is. And he is. But that doesn't negate what Adam suffers, does it? Or how I feel or his mom feels or my husband feels or his Aunt Jen feels as we care for Adam and do our best to alleviate his pain. Suffering is different for every single one of us, but it is no less significant. It tears at the fabric of our faith and threatens to ruin it. It breaks our hearts and twists our thoughts and makes us angry and feeling out of control and wanting to punch the next person who hurts our beautiful one or us and causes us to overeat or not eat enough or over think or drink too much alcohol or strike out at the nearest target because they're our safest target and makes us hate ourselves for all these things rolled up together because we have nothing to complain about. REALLY? Do you buy into that? I used to. I haven't for a long time. Bad things happen to good people, and it hurts. I've learned to ride the bucking bronco of my emotions as I go through these times. Sometimes, I let people in. Sometimes I don't. Sometimes no one has wanted in. We all go through different levels of difficult even if our difficult seems to be less or more than someone else's. Maybe I'm stronger this time and not so strong the next. Maybe you feel the same as some of this. Maybe you don't feel like any of it. We got to go home after about 36 hours. Our friends were staying a day after us, but had already been there for about four days this time around. So, here's the thing about all of this: maybe I shouldn't complain, but in case you're wondering, God never tells me this when He stops by when I'm miserable. Maybe we should be allowed to deal with our troubles the way we deal with them. Maybe we can help each other get through instead of trying to steer each other through whatever is going on. Maybe we can mind our own business if we don't have any kind or compassionate words to offer. You know, "If you can't be nice, be quiet." Today, I didn't have much wisdom as I talked with Spencer's mom. Maybe I didn't need any gems of knowledge to offer Spencer's dad as together we pushed our guys in their wheelchairs as we walked around the unit for half an hour. But we talked about our guys and their sense of humor and how they like the pretty girls, why we both keep them out of program now, how much we appreciate Dr. Egnor and his staff, and how long it takes the boys to recover as they get older. I told my friends I'd be praying for them. Spencer smiled one of his beautiful smiles at me....he hasn't been smiling so much lately. What a gift.