So, let’s just say I’ve had better weeks. I have fooled around with writing a blog ever since I got home from the hospital. I wrote a nine-page essay but then decided in the interest of decorum I took out all passages about catheters, farting, and pooping and then it was only about three sentences long. The intense pain I felt on Monday and Tuesday went away by Thursday morning. But still, everything is either uncomfortable or painful. Even coughing is bad.
Worse still, I see myself having turned into one of those
dreadful old whiners who can’t seem to muster any conversational topics beyond
his health and bodily functions. I’m
sure I’ve been a scintillating companion for Samantha!
I have a countdown on my computer until “Cathy” and I part ways on
Thursday. It is down from ten days to three days and sixteen hours as I am typing this. Mostly it is boring, and isolating, and uncomfortable. And yet, I have found myself feeling
challenged by something I read in The Hiding Place many years ago and never
forgotten. Corrie tenBoom's sister, Betsie, urged her to be thankful in ALL
circumstances, even for their flea-ridden beds in the concentration camp. At
first Corrie refused, but then Betsie gently reminded her that the fleas allowed the women to have Bible studies and sing and pray
together—all which would have been forbidden by the guards who stayed away for fear
of getting fleas.
So I thought to myself, can I be thankful even for this
cursed friend, “Cathy, the catheter?” First of all, I need to remind myself
that I am not in a concentration camp and that my kids are all healthy and
well. We have a roof over our heads and enough to eat. What a great blessing that is when I stop to consider all of the suffering and misery in the world. Then I thought to myself, this device is not
the result of a sadistic doctor or anything like that. It is being used to help
cure me of cancer and to keep me from getting a nasty infection. Then I reminded myself that it is only for
ten days. What can’t I put up with for
ten days?
Then my mind went again to all of the kind friends who have done so, so
much to stand by me, help me, lift me up in prayer and help me in other tangible ways. I
thought of all of the encouraging, funny, warm and loving comments I get on
facebook to keep me cheered up. We have
had some lovely meals sent in and two nights ago dear Janyce and Norm Smithley
arrived with treats galore and also brought a precious card from a
former student, one I had not even gotten to know all that well. He is Vietnamese and I only had him in class
one year. His English was never strong
but he had a sweet spirit and was very earnest and hardworking. The note that Janyce brought was
characteristic of his careful efforts at expressing himself in English. He told me how sorry he was to hear about my
health scare and that he was praying for me.
He said “I hope this little bit of money can help with your expenses,”
and inside he tucked $200! I had tears pouring down my cheeks by the time I
finished reading it.
My student, in his seventeen-year-old wisdom included this precious sentiment:
“God with you, Dr. Nick! We still have hope and Jesus. We
are all pray for you. I know you and God already had a plan for you. And this period is just a piece of sand on
his desert. You can do it!”
Out of the mouths of teenagers! So yes, thank you Lord, I am thankful for the
catheter and for my students and my friends and I am ever reminded of your
unending love for me.
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