Island Recuperation

 A week ago, we would soon be on the road--yes even after wrist surgery the day before. We had planned to join my parents at Hilton Head on Sunday May 1st, but the surgery needed to happen as soon as it could to minimize nerve damage. However the doctor said I could recuperate as easily at Hilton Head is anywhere else, so off we went.

It's strange taking a trip when I can't help with the driving, but I was grateful that we could go. It was a fairly subdued vacation, but our last several trips to Hilton Head with my folks have been somewhat subdued.  We stay in a condo at a Marriott resort, a condo with a full kitchen, so we cook. We all enjoy reading by the pool, so we did a lot of that.  We made a pre-Mother's Day brunch:

Unlike past years, pre-COVID years, we did not go out to eat. But that's OK. since we're all pretty good cooks.  I did not even take many walks on the beach; I had a reaction to the antibiotics that meant I shouldn't get too far away from the bathroom. That, too, was OK.  At least I didn't feel ill or in pain.  And we had planned to have a low key vacation anyway even before knowing I would be recovering from surgery, so at least I didn't feel like I was holding everybody back from having a great time somewhere else.

We were able to go to the bar that is part of the resort, where we could relax and look out across the dunes to the ocean beyond. 

We did that almost every day. I was glad I had gotten my seminary work finished before my operation. While I probably could have worked on those papers, I was glad to be done so that I could just focus on recovering.

There were moments when I felt slightly guilty about having such a nice place where I could recuperate. I could look around the resort and see how much work it takes to keep the resort looking lovely--I do hope those jobs are good ones for the local folks. I live in a hospitality dependent area down in South Florida so I know that sometimes workers are exploited. There is also that guilt of thinking about being on the islands of the Lowcountry of South Carolina, that knowledge of slave labor that built the place, that knowledge of all of the displacement that occurred over the centuries. I took care to thank everyone who works for the resort, while at the same time knowing that my thanks are a meager offering. 

I am grateful to my parents who invited us--we would have far fewer vacations than we do without their invitations. I am grateful to my spouse who said yes:  yes to doing all the driving, yes to getting away.  The last few years have taught me to be grateful for time together. Once I thought that only death would complicate our together times but now I know that it could be many possibilities.

 

Thinking Back to Wrist Surgery a Week Ago

A week ago, I would have been getting ready for my wrist surgery. I was proofreading my papers for seminary one last time to submit them--that was a wise decision. I took a shower, tried to not think about the fact that I wasn't allowed to eat or drink, and sent some emails.

The only surgery I had ever had in the past was having my wisdom teeth removed the summer after my senior year of high school. It was a surgical operation, not just a dental procedure. But unlike many women, I've never had a child, I've never broken a bone, and I've never had trouble with my inner organs. So yes I was a bit anxious, but my general mood was one of wanting to get the whole thing over with.

We gave ourselves getting lost time, so we got to the surgical center early.  That ended up being a good thing, since I was the last surgery of the day, and the surgeon was running early.  I didn't have time to sit around and fret. I was whisked back into a curtained area, where I changed it into a gown, and prep work was done on me.

They did have some trouble finding a good vein for the IV, and in the end they used the vein in my inner elbow.  That was mildly unpleasant, but not as bad as giving blood. Before I knew it, I was emerging from the sedative, with a very nice nurse to help me get ready to go home. This surgery was over.

It lasted longer than expected but was a success; I'll go in on Wednesday to have a follow up and see if everything is progressing as it should. The surgeon told us that the night of the surgery would be the most pain, and he was right. I had opioids for the pain, but they didn't do much except make it easier for me to sleep, and that was no small thing. I would take one, sleep deeply for a few hours, and then take another. But by morning I was feeling pretty good for a woman who had just had her wrist operated on.

As I think back to the surgery, I am amazed at the kindness of everyone connected to the surgical center, and I am surprised at how amazed I am. I have read so many stories about how health care workers are fried to a crisp, so I was a bit fretful about that.  But everyone was extremely compassionate, which made the experience much less gruesome.

I know all the ways that I am lucky. If I was a woman in the 1880s who had fallen and broken her wrist in the way that I did, I would just make do with a less than functional hand for the rest of my life--and I would expect that my life would be shorter because of it. I am a woman with health insurance and access to good medical care, and I do realize that access to good medical care is really a game of chance no matter where we live in the US. I am lucky because I have funds so I could pay my deductible. I am lucky that I have a spouse who is good at this kind of care and patient.

I am also rich in friends. I made a Facebook post or two to keep people up to date, and I was overwhelmed by the support that came in: from childhood friends, high school friends, college friends, family, former colleagues, retreat buddies, and so on. I know all the ways that Facebook can be damaging, but I was heartened to feel support a week ago.

And I have felt heartened to feel continuing support.  It's a long road ahead of me back to full functionality for my right hand and wrist. But today let me focus on feeling grateful for the surgery of a week ago.

  

Thinking of Nurturing on Mother's Day

Here we are at Mother's Day, a strange time in the life of our nation to think about mothering and the choice not to birth a child and the ways that society supports parents or does not.  I feel I should say something, even though I'm not a mom.  Perhaps I should talk about how we all nurture.  And yet, some of us do more nurturing than others.

I've thought of posting a picture of my favorite moms.  Here's one of my mom and sister, who is also a great mom; it's one of my mom's favorites too:

I think of all the other moms I know, and how few pictures I have in my files of moms with their daughters.  I'm thinking of the Create in Me retreat and how many of us bring our moms--to me that's a sign of a successful retreat.

I should have written a blog post earlier this month recommending that we buy our moms the gift of a retreat, instead of flowers or brunch.  Ah well--next year.

Of course, what most moms need is not this kind of gift.  Most moms of younger children need better policies so that families can have better work-life balance, so that moms don't have to make such wrenching choices.

Perhaps I should issue a call for us to support more moms, through policy and legislation.  On the congressional level, right now we should save our efforts.  Hopefully the day will come when we have politicians who want to make those kinds of positive changes, but right now, I don't see it.  Sadly, I've felt this way for years.

I think of my political science teachers who would tell us that we'll be more effective working on the local level anyway.  So let's think of our individual lives--how can we make it easier for people to do the nurturing that needs to be done?

Regardless of our gender, I'd urge us all to nurture all of creation. We live in a broken world, a world in desperate need of  care. Some of us are good at caring for children. Some of us are better at caring for animals. Others of us are mourning the larger picture, as we see our planet in perils of every sort.  The world is not short of opportunities to nurture.

So on this mother's day, as we think of all the people who have nurtured us, let us resolve to return that gift, in whatever way best fits our skills, talents, and gifts. 

Broken Wrist Dispatches

 Still healing nicely. Still not used to using the voice recognition software to make a blog post but I'll get better at that in the weeks to come when my routine normalizes. Here are two dispatches from the past days:

--Thursday post-surgery wrist update: all is still well. No real pain. I am feeling incredibly lucky

--Last night I dreamed I was making a to-do list--I put calling a realtor on that to-do List about getting our last two houses sold. Yes in my dreams I still owned the last two properties, which I thought were on their way to being sold, but I realized we had never actually closed on the deals. What a treat--a grown up anxiety dream--better or worse than dreaming I've been enrolled in a class and forgotten to go to it and now I have to take a final exam?

--A week ago, I was finishing my Theology and the Arts paper and putting the finishing touches on my duplexes* that I wrote for the project. Maybe tomorrow I'll fashion a blog post out of those.

 

* Because our work in the class kept circling back to Jericho Brown’s poetry and this particular form/format, I proposed writing some duplexes of my own. I learned a lot, both about the duplex and about my abandoned lines. More tomorrow.

Meditation on This Sunday's Gospel

The readings for Sunday, May 8, 2022:

First Reading: Acts 9:36-43

Psalm: Psalm 23

Second Reading: Revelation 7:9-17

Gospel: John 10:22-30

This week's Gospel reading takes us back to the metaphor of the sheep. Those of us living post-agricultural lives probably don't know how stupid sheep are. The idea that we are sheep is not attractive. And yet we have a shepherd who loves us and calls to us, no matter how many times we wander away and get into scrapes.

What would a more modern metaphor be? That of the clueless student, who nonetheless can respond to a specific voice? That of a computer that is just a dumb box of electronics until the right programmer comes along? The electrical circuits that are mute until electricity flows from the power plant?

We might consider all the ways that Christ calls to us and we refuse to hear. Christ tells us to give away our wealth, and we rationalize: surely he didn't mean all of it. Jesus tells us to care for the sick, and we do a good job of that, some of us, as long as we liked the sick person back when that person was well. Jesus tells us to visit those in prison. I haven't done that--have you? In short, Jesus tells us to care for the poor and oppressed and to work for a more just society. How many of us do that?

This idea that we should focus on the poor and the oppressed is revolutionary. Jesus knows that if we do that, we can change the world. But even if that change takes awhile (and it does), in the process, we change ourselves in essential ways.

Jesus reminds us again and again that we're not just doing charity work, but we're also trying to create a more just world. We don't share our food just to fill the hungry stomachs, although that's important. We should also work to transform the social structure that keeps people hungry.

We have many opportunities to work for justice. Most of us don't because we lead lives that leave us tired. But often, a group that works for good in the world can energize us. Find a group that works to alleviate a social injustice that particularly pains you and join it. Write letters to your elected officials. Help build a Habitat house. At the very least, you can give food (real food, not just the castaways from your pantry) to a food bank. At the very least, you can clean out your closets and give your perfectly good clothes to the poor.

In this way, we can help God, who is making a new creation. In this way, we respond to the call of our shepherd.

Wrist Surgery Day

My wrist surgery is this afternoon. If you are the praying sort, the sending healing light sort, the here are some good wishes sort of person, all are appreciated. 

April's End

A week ago, the Create in Me retreat would be ending. Let me create a blog post of a few things that have been happening since then.

--On Thursday, I went to see the hand and wrist surgeon, and I spent time getting organized for surgery on Monday.

--I am still not feeling pain in my wrist, but I have been getting pain in my right bicep and my shoulder. It feels like I had a hard workout, back in the days when I was doing weight lifting and whole body workouts. And then there are the times when I move in a certain direction and my arm makes it clear I should not.

--It's not the upper body workout that I had in mind, back in the days when I would look at my arms and despair at their flabbiness.

--I am intrigued with how little I am eating these days. It takes a lot of energy to feed myself the first serving of anything with my left hand. I usually say no to seconds. I've quit snacking because it takes so much effort to cut slices of cheese for cheese and crackers. It's not the diet plan I had in mind.

--It's been an interesting time being in the condo, with lots of concerts in the arts park. The one I might have most wanted to see, Béla Fleck and Abigail Washburn, was on Thursday night when I had my last seminary class for the semester. But we did walk over earlier in the afternoon to watch them rehearse, which was really cool.

--I have been working hard to get my seminary papers written before surgery on Monday. I am in the homestretch. It will be a relief to be done with seminary work even though I am enjoying it.

--I am working on a final project for a seminary class that requires me to chart important historical developments, leaders, ideas, and books, a history of the Jews from the return from Babylonian Exile in 538 BCE to the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 CE. No, it's not a 50 page paper; we're supposed to do all of this in just 7 pages. I am trying to sum up the importance of Alexander the Great. Philosopher spouse says “He was a student of Aristotle.” Somehow I don't think my Hebrew Bible teacher would see this as the most significant reason why we remember Alexander the Great.

--I am glad I am not taking seminary classes this summer. I will focus on the online classes I am teaching, the physical therapy that lies ahead of me, and getting ready for the fall.