Monthly Archives: November 2018

Thank Luck

I do therefore invite my fellow citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are at sea and those who are sojourning in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens. – Abraham Lincoln, October 3, 1863

Even atheists say “thank God.” Gratitude is an odd word that demands both a “for” and a “to.” It is usually pretty obvious what one is thankful “for.” But we tend to forget that, in saying it,  we are thanking someone or something for the gift. To whom are we grateful? If someone gives us something or does something for us, we thank them. It’s concrete, tangible, unambiguous. But to whom are we expressing gratitude when we reflect on the many good things we have that, for lack of a better term, were dropped in our lap?

Lincoln’s proclamation left no doubt as to whom he felt our nation should be grateful. And for the most part people who would not call themselves believers still feel gratitude towards some vague, amorphous condition that they might call luck or fate or some such. For believers, we know that luck and blessing are two very different things. Being lucky just means that you got an outcome you didn’t necessarily deserve, it just came out that way. Could have come out different, but “I was just lucky, I guess.” Lady Luck is simply the personification of blind and random forces in life that determine our fate. Inescapable, amoral and impersonal. No one says “Thank Luck.”

Being blessed is another matter entirely. We are the object of a transitive verb, and how we choose to fill in the “subject” says much about who we are. At one extreme, it is again a vague and impersonal force or being, “The Universe,” a “Higher Power,” something that is “out there” giving us goodies. Funny thing is, when the gift brings with it suffering, God usually gets the blame. Even though they may not believe in God, they still need someone to pin it on.

At the other extreme, there are those of us who believe God to be a personal, loving and powerful being. When we are blessed we say “thanks be to God.” Except when the gift brings with it suffering, we aren’t thankful. It is because that in saying that, we imply that God causes bad things to happen to those who don’t deserve it. Especially me.

But for us Christians, real faith in God requires us to be grateful for all the blessings we receive, even the ones that seem malevolent. Real faith sees the hand  of God in everything, the bad as well as the good, for  “…we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28)

We are grateful for good family, nice friends, a home, puppies, rainbows, unicorns. But never cancer or loss or hardship. Do I have the spiritual maturity to be grateful for the whole package, or do I, as was suggested to Job, “curse God and die?” It would be the height of denial to say that my circumstances today are what I would have chosen. But I don’t believe God gave me cancer, twice. What I am grateful for is that God is with me in  my cancer, that I am not alone in this burden. And I fervently believe that good will come of it, that my acceptance of what I have been given will in some or many ways bless someone else.

So on this Thanksgiving Day, I thank God who has so richly blessed me in all aspects of  my life. And I thank all of you, family and friends who have walked this difficult path with me, for your generous and sincere love. I’m not lucky but I am blessed.

 

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No matter where you go, there you are

Somebody nudged me the other day and asked when I was going to post to this blog again. And again today, someone wanted to know how I am doing. It’s been far too long since my last post and there’s a reason for this, one that I’m not particularly proud of. As a rule, when I post it is because there is something interesting and worth sharing. And I want it to be profound and engaging because frankly I get a lot out of your responses. And I don’t like posting some boring, day to day stuff because there probably won’t be any spectacular response. It never occurs to me that the people who love me just want to include me in their lives. This is pride, the foremost of the Seven Deadlies, and the one that underlies them all.

I have been home a month now and have settled in to what, for now, is the new normal. Maybe you want to know what that is, maybe not. But I’ll share this with you all.

One of the most significant developments for me is that I am finally being fitted for the devices that soon will allow me to produce sounds via a voice prosthesis. It won’t be speech, but it will be a necessary first step. I’ll be back to Michigan in January for the placement of the prosthesis and several intense weeks of speech therapy. As my therapist said, my success is up to me. It’s a long road ahead but he feels that I have the right attitude to pull it off. We shall see.

One side benefit of this is that I can now use a button called an HME (heat/moisture exchanger) that eliminates the need for nightly humidification. One less piece of medical equipment. We returned it the other day. The HME is also a filter that removes larger contaminates like cat hair (no shortage of that here), and the usual junk that floats around. Normally your nose does all of these things. But since mine is now merely decorative, it’s a necessary and welcome replacement.

It’s good to finally be back in familiar surroundings, but I am beginning to realize just how much I need to adjust to function in a world where speech is expected. So I carry around my Boogie Board to write on. And there is a voice to text app on my phone that helps a lot. But other people don’t quite know how to act around me. One guy started writing back at me, assuming that since I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t hear. An understandable but humorous response.

Another thing that is turning out to be harder than I thought is developing a simple sign language that Charlotte and I can use to communicate. It takes a lot of work and we’re usually short on time, or too tired to work on it. So it’s not moving along as I had naively hoped. Patience is the requirement here.

Participating in group discussions is proving to be very problematic as well. I got a taste of it when I was in Michigan during my recuperation, but now it is becoming a point of real frustration for me. We have a bi-weekly bible study that I used to actively contribute to, but it’s the same problem of being ten steps behind the conversation so that by the time I have typed what I want to say I am hopelessly off topic and I end up erasing all the typing I just did. We went to our Marriage Encounter sharing group last night and they started to wrap up the meeting before I had a chance to “say” anything. It’s no one’s fault. I just feel left out and minimized. It’s obvious that people don’t understand what I need from them. Our little Sunday AA meeting in Rochester gave me a chance to actively participate because they came to understand my limitations. From that a comfortable dynamic emerged. But I can’t expect that to happen in most groups, at least not at first.

I developed a pretty bad strep infection in my chin which the doctor is treating with an arsenal of antibiotics. There is still a lot of edema in my face, and it is always at risk for infection. I am getting regular massage by a physical therapist trained in lymphedema massage. But even with that, it will probably be a year before the swelling fully subsides.

Still, it’s good to be home and able to go in to work a couple of days a week. Everyone has become so accustomed to my working remotely that I usually have no reason to go in. As a result, I have become a house husband, something Charlotte is enjoying. Every day that I work from home, there is a list of chores for me to do in addition to doing my regular job. And I’m happy to do it. If I ever really retire, I suspect I will have a “honey do” list every day. I don’t mind because it means I have a wife whom I can care for.

So that’s where I am. My life is pretty ho-hum. And that’s just fine with me.

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