Pain: a
state of physical, emotional, or mental lack of well-being or physical,
emotional, or mental uneasiness that ranges from mild discomfort or dull
distress to acute often unbearable agony, may be generalized or localized, and
is the consequence of being injured or hurt physically or mentally or of some
derangement of or lack of equilibrium in the physical or mental functions (as
through disease), and that usually produces a reaction of wanting to avoid,
escape, or destroy the causative factor and its effects
So wow, quite an impressive
definition from our friend, Mr. Webster!
As I was looking in the attic
the other day, I was reminded that one of my faithful blog readers had asked
for the story of the “fall through my attic”. So being the first of
a new year, I decided to be nice and oblige her. The “incident” happened about
26 years ago. After the calculator calculated my age, I realized I
was probably the age The Girl is now. How about
that? Fun, huh?
It’s a simple Sunday
afternoon in November. The Husband was doing his Sunday afternoon
thing of napping occasionally with the remote in hand and feet propped in the
recliner. The girl, young one that she was, was most likely playing
with her “babies” in her room. I decided, being the middle of November
(I know this as it was the weekend before my birthday), I would get a headstart
and bring down the Christmas gift wrap from the attic. I always bought my
Christmas gift wrap after Christmas the prior year when it was 50+% off.
I still do. Our attic has nice steps that fold down to make a
ladder of sorts into our carport. I had visited the attic many, many
times—always being cautious that I never step on a spot that was “weak”, if you
know what I mean. And I think you know what I mean. The
Husband always cautioned me about that. I carefully got the first
roll of paper and threw it down the steps carefully. I was smart
enough to know I would not be good holding on to much to bring down as it was
important for ME to hold on to the little rails on the side of those folding
steps. I walked carefully to get a couple more, threw them down
gently, and stepped at the stair area to put my foot carefully over so I could
come down also. Oops. I forgot at that point about the
necessity of being cautious and to never step on a spot that was
“weak”. I put my right foot there at the top of those stairs and….uh
huh, bet you know what's coming. It was a VERY WEAK
spot. The sheetrock crumbled, my right foot followed the
direction of the sheetrock, my right arm underneath caught HARD on a 2 x 4 that
used to be a “strong” spot to walk on…my left foot and leg stayed on the
remaining sheetrock. Thank goodness. If I had not caught on that 2
x 4, the story might have been a lot different. I finally caught my breath
and started yelling as I hung there with one foot and leg dangling in midair,
the other out of sight, and the right hand dangling while the 2 x 4 held
me. I was in a predicament that merited my yelling for The Husband
and The Girl. Sound familiar to you blog readers? Uh
huh.
The Girl heard me
first. Uh huh…and went to get The Husband. He looked
stunned and told me to hang on. Well, duh. My right arm
is attached to the 2 x 4 and my left leg is straight on the attic sheetrock
that was obviously not "weak". Where am I
going? Really? He managed to help me down and I realized
I really had hurt something. The pain was excruciating in my side
under my right arm. I was having trouble getting a decent
breath. I tried to walk around and breathe, hoping it was just a
quick temporary problem that would fix itself in five or fifty
minutes. It wasn’t.
If I recall correctly—my mind
slips, you know—The Husband found a doctor there in town that happened to be
open on that Sunday late afternoon and he saw me. He thought I had
probably bruised ribs and it would a while to “unbruise”. He
explained that bruised ribs hurt as badly as broken ribs. Well, yes,
that was just what I wanted to hear.
It was a day or so after when
I was still in massive pain that I decided I needed a second
opinion. I found a doctor who had just moved to town and visited
her. She agreed that the ribs were bruised and gave me instructions
on how to minimize the pain. Pain medicine helped. I
liked that doctor. I told her that day that I rarely needed a doctor so
probably wouldn’t see her much. Now, 26 years and 3-4 huge
medical files later, she is still my family’s doctor and friend. She
has diagnosed every bad thing we’ve ever had and helped control and deal with
those things. I still see her regularly. She also tells me
that she tells my story regularly.
I do remember having to be
driven most places that week….and I remember having to be driven to have my
drivers’ license renewed and such trivial things as that. I
remember, too, The Mother-In-Law being so mad the her son allowed me to go into
the attic when he should have been doing it himself for me. Hearing
her say that was about the only thing that made me smile for several
days.
So really, that’s the “attic
incident”. I was thinking about the physical pain that brought to me
and the amount of time that physical pain lasted. Since that time,
I’ve so many episodes of health issues that have caused me so much physical
pain. (Last year's 38 day kidney stone attack immediately comes to
mind.) That same doctor says I’m her worst patient in that I have such a
high pain tolerance, I can be really badly sick and not realize….so she has
learned when I’m in pain and when I’m not…just by looking at me. That’s a
pretty good doctor, I say.
Pain we have in our lives,
though, is not always physical. Granted what I remember most about
that attic incident is hanging there not able to move any way and then feeling
the excruciating pain it brought. Isn’t that how we are a lot of
times when we suffer emotional pain, too? We hanging between a right
choice and a wrong choice or we’re hanging in grief at things that break our
hearts. Just....hanging. It’s hard sometimes to forget those painful decisions,
choices, and losses and move on. As I needed The Husband's help to
get down from the attic, we often need some help to move on after pain. I
know that if we trust in the Lord to help us deal with the emotional pains and
problems that come, we can trust and move on with a positive attitude and
spirit. And don’t we have The Great Physician who knows us so well
that He knows when we are in pain and struggling with decisions and
choices? He is there and WILL help. He promised. That’s a
pretty good Great Physician, I would say….a great “heart”
doctor. I’m glad I’m HIS patient!
Painful times teach us many
things for sure. I now store my Christmas gift wrap on the carport where
there are no steps to climb. After I healed, I did have to summon courage
to climb back in the attic--kind of like getting on a horse after you've been
thrown--and that climb I made and those steps I took on the "strong"
parts of the attic floor were very scary. My legs were like jelly.
I remember well. But I did it. The Husband did a helpful
thing, too, by repairing the section that was hurt and repaired it so that it
was strong. Just in case I had attic troubles again. Sometimes it
takes us a long time to learn. And sometimes we learn quickly. As
for our hard times, it's good to remember what the Bible says in 1 Corinthians
12:9 & 10:
"And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee:
for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather
glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities,
in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake for when I am weak, then am I
strong."
