I could not get my breath. I had climbed the stairway into the office complex countless times, but this was the first time I was winded by it. I tried to engage in small talk with the receptionist, but I. could. not. breathe. Strange. Also strange was my throbbing calf muscle, but I was able to pass that off as a strain from the dead-lifts I had done in my workout the day before. I shook them both off and went about my day. The next morning, I awoke to a replay. Walking down the stairs in our home, I realized both the leg pain and the wheezing had returned. Googled it. Got concerned. The internet told me to seek immediate medical help. So, I made an appointment with my doctor for later that day and took my grandkids to the Children’s Museum. In hindsight, yes, an unwise decision. Later, in my shortest-ever doctor’s appointment, I explained the symptoms. She immediately packed me up and sent me to the E.R. “Sounds like a blood clot,” she said with concern.
I’ll spare you the details of the 6-hour waiting room stay, the ultrasound and CT scan, but yep, the concerns were dead on…pun, nervously, intended. I had a large DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis) in my left leg and two PEs (Pulmonary Embolisms) centrally located in both lungs. And just like that, I was facing my first very, very serious illness. Surgery was considered but rejected, and instead I was placed on blood thinning drugs to aid my body in absorbing the clots. Three weeks out and I’m feeling ok…wary but mostly normal. But the ordeal raised two important questions that I continue to think about to the point of distraction. I’ve processed these two questions with Penny, family and a few close friends, but I’d like to include you in the deliberations.
What better way to relaunch my newsletter and blog, I suppose?
Question one…” What now?”
I cannot count the number of times in the past that I, as a pastor, have stood at someone’s hospital bedside or sat in their living room or stood at a funeral and been asked, “Why did this happen?” It is the nagging question hanging over tragedy and pain. Another iteration of the question is, “There’s got to be a reason for this, right?” or “God’s got a plan in this, doesn’t he?”
I get it. I do. But those questions are unanswerable. Do I think that God, in his providence, can and does insert his will into the life of humans? Yes. But there is no way to know, definitively, the mind of the inscrutable one. The fact is that most suffering is “without conclusion” or is “ambiguous loss” or “eludes resolution”. These are the thoughts of Dr. Pauline Boss from her books on the same subject. I agree with her. My experiences, both pastoral and now deeply personal, resonate with the ambiguity of pain. No, there is not a reason to be found for my latest medical ordeal, but I believe firmly that there can be discovered a reason in it. Hence the question, “What now?”
Here are my (still in formation) answers to that question. I share these with you to solicit your perspective…what am I missing?…and perhaps encourage some soul searching of your own.
“What now?” Here’s how we’re dealing with that question.
How do Penny and I better prepare for the unthinkable? One of the things I did almost immediately after returning home from the hospital was update my document of accounts, passwords and contacts to help ease Penny’s mind and not leave her lost for details. I shared it with her and my kids.
On a much deeper level, through some tears, Penny and I have had THE conversation about the inevitability of life without the other. This thing scared her and me. Being honest about it has been hard, revealing and sweet. What do we do now that we know and are less naïve about the future?
I haven’t exactly sought this out, but as people have approached me to inquire about my health, our conversations have been more raw, more real, and like with my wife, more revealing. Even casual acquaintances suddenly became soulish friends. I have enjoyed the candor.
I’m paying better attention to my body…not in a hypochondriacal sort of way (I hope) but in a partnering sort of way. It may have saved my life.
This is inevitable and maybe a little stereotypical, even for me, but I am dwelling longer on the questions of meaning. In the time I do have…years, I hope…how should I invest my life? Getting my second book finished feels like a quest, now. Hint: It’s about living at a high level with vitality, passion and purpose for as long as you can. Stay tuned…I am shooting for a 2026 release. I promise (myself).
Finally, I am spending more time thinking about wonder, and mystery…and yes, God and eternity…and joy and contentment. This fall the leaves have been as brilliant as I can remember. The shrimp and grits I made last night tasted the best they ever have. And the Rachmaninov 2nd piano concerto I listened to yesterday was as evocative as I’ve ever heard it. Maybe I’m paying attention more than ever.
I’m curious as to your response to the “what now?” question. It’ll be good to hear from you. Next week I’ll address the second huge question that, actually, preceded the first. As I lay in my bed in the E.R. having just been told I faced danger, I wondered “Who do I tell?”