i love to travel, but i hate airports. they stress me out. people seem annoyed- things are delayed (like my flight yesterday) the food isn't good and it's expensive, and there is elevator music. but with a coffee, a biscotti and an assigned seat- i can sit and write-alone. ahhh.
yesterday i woke up early and sat out on my porch watching the sun light up one side of this super tall water oak in the woods behind my house. it's the same every day- that light- on that spot. and i thought, 'i will miss that when i'm gone'. that is where my head is- it's on 'going'. so i wasn't very excited for my airport trip that morning to head up to my family reunion in grand rapids.
i love my family- all of them- really. this was an extended family reunion- some of my cousins and all of my aunts and uncles from my mom's side of the family- but many more people that i barely know or haven't even met- my cousins cousins. and, given the pace of life these days, what needs to get done in the next few weeks- i almost didn't go. i was dreading flying, packing, being away another weekend, losing that time to "do" stuff- to "get done". but mike was great. he gently reminded me that people are way more important than getting "stuff done". that relationships matter most. that you don't get another chance to see people all together like this. he is right, so off i went.
and i am so glad. it was a day of reconnecting with really good people who i haven't seen in years but know me- people who've prayed for me- prayed through the seasons of my life. people who know the value and importance of family and of relationships. people who've had brokenness, people who are going through hard times right now. people just like me, and just like you, because we all know broken and we all know hard. but what do we do with it? our brokenness? other peoples hard times?
on friday, at work, i had one of those days where the system gets in the way of the people. that really gets to me because there are so many times when we do things in medicine because the patient said the 'right words' even when we know it's unlikely to be the medical entity that classically goes with those words. but then sometimes- you know what the right thing to do is- you know this guy needs serious IV pain control to be able to sit still for the radiation to his bone metastasis- which will then bring him relief- you know he's failed it as an outpatient - but the system balks at his admission diagnosis- at the hassle of how to categorize him. and this gets to me. the right thing to do is get him comfortable enough that we can radiate him and help his pain - even if it means an admission.
i know soon in uganda i will have many struggles between systems and people's needs. very different struggles. the medicine is too expensive, the person is too sick to come into clinic, there is no MRI machine. and like my friday situation- you do what you can- you think outside the box- and you always give the treatment you administer by ear, "words of comfort". (another gem from cutting for stone- abraham verghese)
and that is what we do with our own brokenness- ours and our families- you ask- you listen- you give words of comfort- even when it might be easier not to. because it is right. because we are made of the same stuff. because we want that when we are in the hard times.
today i was back at the Gerald Ford International Airport in grand rapids michigan. sometimes in the airport you can look around at other peoples lives and wonder. you can easily and quickly make assumptions about them- what might be easy- what might be hard about their life. you can even try it on your imagination- what if i'd made 'that' choice or what if i wore 'those' kind of clothes. usually from my eyes- somehow most peoples lives in the airport seem simpler- easier and i romanticize them because of this. i'm looking at this tan guy, wearing a polo shirt with his wife and baby- they look like they're going on vacation- they don't seem stressed out by their lives- by there one, young healthy child. i see the guitarist from a popular band who i'd sat with the day before when i accidentally got first class with a frequent flyer ticket- he seems to breeze around- no luggage- first class- no kids- no major ties. i see some business guys - calling home- telling someone about the convention- kind of bland- it's a job- can't wait to get home. i see a dad with his daughter. she's about 12, carrying two crimp haired dolls and a bedazzled backpack, she's asking where her brother is- she's reminding me of zoe, she's smiling- she has downs syndrome.
nothing is easy. it's just life. tan and polo-ed, rich rocker, business guy, dad of a child with a chromosomal anomaly, girl with her dolls and pack. all beautiful and all broken. just like me. just like zoe. just life. the secret is knowing your life- owning your life- not wanting to be the rocker- or the business guy. we are who we are. what we do with it, or don't do with it- that is what further shapes us.
now i'm home. on the porch but it's evening. the light comes from the other side now - from the west. and instead of lighting the bark- it lights the leaves- all of them- each of them.
yesterday i woke up early and sat out on my porch watching the sun light up one side of this super tall water oak in the woods behind my house. it's the same every day- that light- on that spot. and i thought, 'i will miss that when i'm gone'. that is where my head is- it's on 'going'. so i wasn't very excited for my airport trip that morning to head up to my family reunion in grand rapids.
i love my family- all of them- really. this was an extended family reunion- some of my cousins and all of my aunts and uncles from my mom's side of the family- but many more people that i barely know or haven't even met- my cousins cousins. and, given the pace of life these days, what needs to get done in the next few weeks- i almost didn't go. i was dreading flying, packing, being away another weekend, losing that time to "do" stuff- to "get done". but mike was great. he gently reminded me that people are way more important than getting "stuff done". that relationships matter most. that you don't get another chance to see people all together like this. he is right, so off i went.
and i am so glad. it was a day of reconnecting with really good people who i haven't seen in years but know me- people who've prayed for me- prayed through the seasons of my life. people who know the value and importance of family and of relationships. people who've had brokenness, people who are going through hard times right now. people just like me, and just like you, because we all know broken and we all know hard. but what do we do with it? our brokenness? other peoples hard times?
on friday, at work, i had one of those days where the system gets in the way of the people. that really gets to me because there are so many times when we do things in medicine because the patient said the 'right words' even when we know it's unlikely to be the medical entity that classically goes with those words. but then sometimes- you know what the right thing to do is- you know this guy needs serious IV pain control to be able to sit still for the radiation to his bone metastasis- which will then bring him relief- you know he's failed it as an outpatient - but the system balks at his admission diagnosis- at the hassle of how to categorize him. and this gets to me. the right thing to do is get him comfortable enough that we can radiate him and help his pain - even if it means an admission.
i know soon in uganda i will have many struggles between systems and people's needs. very different struggles. the medicine is too expensive, the person is too sick to come into clinic, there is no MRI machine. and like my friday situation- you do what you can- you think outside the box- and you always give the treatment you administer by ear, "words of comfort". (another gem from cutting for stone- abraham verghese)
and that is what we do with our own brokenness- ours and our families- you ask- you listen- you give words of comfort- even when it might be easier not to. because it is right. because we are made of the same stuff. because we want that when we are in the hard times.
today i was back at the Gerald Ford International Airport in grand rapids michigan. sometimes in the airport you can look around at other peoples lives and wonder. you can easily and quickly make assumptions about them- what might be easy- what might be hard about their life. you can even try it on your imagination- what if i'd made 'that' choice or what if i wore 'those' kind of clothes. usually from my eyes- somehow most peoples lives in the airport seem simpler- easier and i romanticize them because of this. i'm looking at this tan guy, wearing a polo shirt with his wife and baby- they look like they're going on vacation- they don't seem stressed out by their lives- by there one, young healthy child. i see the guitarist from a popular band who i'd sat with the day before when i accidentally got first class with a frequent flyer ticket- he seems to breeze around- no luggage- first class- no kids- no major ties. i see some business guys - calling home- telling someone about the convention- kind of bland- it's a job- can't wait to get home. i see a dad with his daughter. she's about 12, carrying two crimp haired dolls and a bedazzled backpack, she's asking where her brother is- she's reminding me of zoe, she's smiling- she has downs syndrome.
nothing is easy. it's just life. tan and polo-ed, rich rocker, business guy, dad of a child with a chromosomal anomaly, girl with her dolls and pack. all beautiful and all broken. just like me. just like zoe. just life. the secret is knowing your life- owning your life- not wanting to be the rocker- or the business guy. we are who we are. what we do with it, or don't do with it- that is what further shapes us.
"The key to your happiness is to own your slippers, own who you are, own how you look, own your family, own the talents you have, and own the ones you don't. If you keep saying your slippers aren't yours, then you'll die searching, you'll die bitter, always feeling you were promised more. Not only our actions, but also our omissions, become our destiny."
abraham verghese - cutting for stone.
abraham verghese - cutting for stone.
now i'm home. on the porch but it's evening. the light comes from the other side now - from the west. and instead of lighting the bark- it lights the leaves- all of them- each of them.
