10% Done!
I have a wonderful friend who's name is Rachel and I work with her in the church office. She loves math...I do not!! Yesterday when I was on the phone with her she exclaimed "Just think of it this way! Tomorrow is Wes' third treatment and he's 10% done!" I guess it's all in the perspective isn't it?
Wes' appointment went well today, he felt the radiation was a bit more intense and I noticed that the redness was on a broader scale across his face, but other than feeling a bit lazy (which could also be the weather...where is the sun!?!) he is feeling very good.
Wes is resting right now so I will take the time to share with you a bit of our day.
Today at HSC I watched faces. We went to Hematology to have Wes' blood tests done before radiation and I sat beside Wes and watched the people who were in the waiting room with us.
So many people hurting...too many people hurting. But today I decided to watch the healthy. Those who walk beside the ones they love who are hurting and sick and it was like looking in a mirror. I watched as a myriad of emotions flashed across their faces, helplessness, fear, vulnerability and love.
One couple was there for their first visit, I remember that feeling. The nurse asked if they knew where to go...'no'. the wife said softly..the nurse was patient and kind, explaining and re-explaining what they were required to do. They landed up with us in the waiting room of Hematology. Her husband was very obviously sick and she sat quietly beside him, her purse on her lap holding it like a shield in front of her as though it could protect her from everything that was happening to them in that moment. It didn't.
She kept stealing glances at her husband, I could tell she didn't know what to do for him and once in awhile he would look at her with a sad smile and the more she would clutch her purse as she tried to smile back. He was called in and I could see her whole body droop and her face filled with such sadness, she was trying so hard to be strong for him, but the minute he was out of sight she couldn't keep up the facade. When he came back out she sat up and smiled a smile of encouragement, took his hand and walked with him to their next appointment.
Then there was a middle-aged couple who sat across from us. He stood to take off his jacket and hoodie, but got tangled up with his sleeves. His wife patiently tried to help, but he was determined to do this on his own. His head displayed the markings of radiation and his walk was unstable and I could feel his frustration from across the aisle. He tried to tell his wife what he wanted but couldn't get the words out. She was listening very carefully, but couldn't figure out what he was asking for. Finally with a wild sweep of his hand across his head he indicated that he wanted his hat. She quietly pulled his hat from under his jacket and he clumsily placed it on his head to cover his scar. He didn't. The hat was at such an angle that it was merely perched at the top of his head, but his wife didn't adjust it, she was giving him his independence. After all, in the grander scheme of things is it going to matter more that he has his hat on crooked or that he has a feeling of accomplishment to do something so simple?
When he was called in for his blood work he was determined to walk into the room on his own. He nearly stumbled into the wall and she watched carefully, I could see that she was holding back the urge to follow him. When he walked around the wall with the hematologist she sat back and relaxed, put her ipod buds in her ears and I'm assuming tried to escape from her present world.
When he came back she went through the entire process of putting his hoodie and jacket back on, but this was not an easy task. Determined to do it on his own he again became entangled in the hood thinking that it was his sleeve. She lovingly took his hand and with the gentleness of a woman in love she placed his hand to rest on her arm while she adjusted his hoodie and pulled his jacket around making the arm hole ready for his hand. He simply let his hand rest on her arm, acknowledging that he needed her help, but he never took his eyes off of her face.
She took his hand and carefully put it into his sleeve and stood in front of him like I used to do when our boys were little and she zipped up his jacket. There was no pomp or circumstance over her actions, simply love and respect.
I've been watching husbands and wives, daughters and mothers, sons and fathers, best friends and many who come alone. Every one has a story, every one offers a shy smile when you greet them. Every one feeling pain in their own body or in the body of someone they love. And you find yourself expanding your prayers to include many whose name you will never know.
When you enter HSC you enter into a completely different world...at first it is foreign and overwhelming, but it doesn't take long for it to become a place of security and refuge. The pain of those walking in and out of the hospital doors is evident, even palpable, but we are all reaching for the same thing...hope and healing.
Some come with God, but many come without him...so we are called to walk beside them, to introduce God to those who don't know him, through our words and our actions. We are his hands and feet and if we don't love the lost and the hurting that are around us today no matter where we are, who will?
Perspective and priorities...we've been challenged to re-examine ours.
"As for God, his way is perfect; the word of the LORD is flawless. He is a shield for all who take refuge in him." Psalm 18:30
Wes' appointment went well today, he felt the radiation was a bit more intense and I noticed that the redness was on a broader scale across his face, but other than feeling a bit lazy (which could also be the weather...where is the sun!?!) he is feeling very good.
Wes is resting right now so I will take the time to share with you a bit of our day.
Today at HSC I watched faces. We went to Hematology to have Wes' blood tests done before radiation and I sat beside Wes and watched the people who were in the waiting room with us.
So many people hurting...too many people hurting. But today I decided to watch the healthy. Those who walk beside the ones they love who are hurting and sick and it was like looking in a mirror. I watched as a myriad of emotions flashed across their faces, helplessness, fear, vulnerability and love.
One couple was there for their first visit, I remember that feeling. The nurse asked if they knew where to go...'no'. the wife said softly..the nurse was patient and kind, explaining and re-explaining what they were required to do. They landed up with us in the waiting room of Hematology. Her husband was very obviously sick and she sat quietly beside him, her purse on her lap holding it like a shield in front of her as though it could protect her from everything that was happening to them in that moment. It didn't.
She kept stealing glances at her husband, I could tell she didn't know what to do for him and once in awhile he would look at her with a sad smile and the more she would clutch her purse as she tried to smile back. He was called in and I could see her whole body droop and her face filled with such sadness, she was trying so hard to be strong for him, but the minute he was out of sight she couldn't keep up the facade. When he came back out she sat up and smiled a smile of encouragement, took his hand and walked with him to their next appointment.
Then there was a middle-aged couple who sat across from us. He stood to take off his jacket and hoodie, but got tangled up with his sleeves. His wife patiently tried to help, but he was determined to do this on his own. His head displayed the markings of radiation and his walk was unstable and I could feel his frustration from across the aisle. He tried to tell his wife what he wanted but couldn't get the words out. She was listening very carefully, but couldn't figure out what he was asking for. Finally with a wild sweep of his hand across his head he indicated that he wanted his hat. She quietly pulled his hat from under his jacket and he clumsily placed it on his head to cover his scar. He didn't. The hat was at such an angle that it was merely perched at the top of his head, but his wife didn't adjust it, she was giving him his independence. After all, in the grander scheme of things is it going to matter more that he has his hat on crooked or that he has a feeling of accomplishment to do something so simple?
When he was called in for his blood work he was determined to walk into the room on his own. He nearly stumbled into the wall and she watched carefully, I could see that she was holding back the urge to follow him. When he walked around the wall with the hematologist she sat back and relaxed, put her ipod buds in her ears and I'm assuming tried to escape from her present world.
When he came back she went through the entire process of putting his hoodie and jacket back on, but this was not an easy task. Determined to do it on his own he again became entangled in the hood thinking that it was his sleeve. She lovingly took his hand and with the gentleness of a woman in love she placed his hand to rest on her arm while she adjusted his hoodie and pulled his jacket around making the arm hole ready for his hand. He simply let his hand rest on her arm, acknowledging that he needed her help, but he never took his eyes off of her face.
She took his hand and carefully put it into his sleeve and stood in front of him like I used to do when our boys were little and she zipped up his jacket. There was no pomp or circumstance over her actions, simply love and respect.
I've been watching husbands and wives, daughters and mothers, sons and fathers, best friends and many who come alone. Every one has a story, every one offers a shy smile when you greet them. Every one feeling pain in their own body or in the body of someone they love. And you find yourself expanding your prayers to include many whose name you will never know.
When you enter HSC you enter into a completely different world...at first it is foreign and overwhelming, but it doesn't take long for it to become a place of security and refuge. The pain of those walking in and out of the hospital doors is evident, even palpable, but we are all reaching for the same thing...hope and healing.
Some come with God, but many come without him...so we are called to walk beside them, to introduce God to those who don't know him, through our words and our actions. We are his hands and feet and if we don't love the lost and the hurting that are around us today no matter where we are, who will?
Perspective and priorities...we've been challenged to re-examine ours.
"As for God, his way is perfect; the word of the LORD is flawless. He is a shield for all who take refuge in him." Psalm 18:30
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