I’m sitting here at my table drinking coffee, pondering the week that was…

Surgery on Monday turned out great – the complete thickness tear discovered on the MRI was nowhere to be found once they got inside the shoulder w/the leetle camera & knife – just some fraying. No tear means my recovery time is cut down by 1/4, & is evidenced by the fact that I am typing with both of my hands right now – I stil am supposed to wear my sling, esp. in crowds (its more for the crowd than for me, I was told) but in the priv-acy of my domicile, I am free. At this rate, I may be playing guitar by the time I go to Deutschland.

Travelling post-surgery is as bad an idea as I have had lately. The bright side of a Tuesday trip to LA was that I got to pre-board with the others in wheelchairs & the harried parents with reckless ankle biters. Can’t say I didn’t feign a bit of angst (for Teeem) in order to look less pleased with myself getting to pick whatever seat I wanted on the Greyhound in the Sky airlines… Also, reconnecting with friends T & D was worth the price. Ate at the Cheesecake Factory (BBQ Burger & Wings, no cheesecake :(…) Reno NEEDS a Cheesecake Factory.

Spoke at the LPC Chapel Talked about Ephesians 2:10 – w/the main idea being that God loves us because we’re His children, not because of what I can do for Him. Beings as I’m one of His masterpeza’s. A main talking point was Van Gogh’s Starry Night. I am not a mass-production, I am a masterpiece, & am unique… the things I BE & DO will reflect that – as a person, & in all the roles I fulfill.

Nobody booed or shouted “Blasphemy”, tore their clothes & through dirt in the air. This is especially significant to note as there were 2 members of the Foursquare Doctrinal Committee present. Woo hoo.

Found out 3 minutes ago that Jerry Cook has colon cancer. (For more on J to the C, see SCOEY’S HEROES POST) Treatment is starting immediately. Prognosis is good. God is better.

Thanks for walking through life with me. I’m richer for it.

Joe Montana is one of my heroes. When I was 10, the worst team in football, the 49ers, drafted Joe Montana in the 3rd round. (I know, they are once again among the worst teams in football – but as long as they beat Da Raiders this week, they will at least be able to say, “We’re #31!” But I digress.) It was a perfect time for me to engage with pro football – I had just started playing the game myself (Pop Warner) & the local (Bay area is local to Reno, if you squint hard enough…) team brings in a guy that has a knack for finding a way to win games that seemed like they were done & over.

Montana’s tenure as QB brought 4 Super Bowl victories. 3 Super Bowl MVP’s. Several years of watching a wispy guy with a so-so throwing arm lead the 49ers to victory. My favorite Montana moment was in Super Bowl XXIII XXIII Recap (that’s 23 for non-Roman Numeral types) where the Bengals of Cincinnati were overcome in the last minute for yet-another-come-from-behind-victory via a TD pass to John Taylor. I remember that moment as vividly as if it were yesterday. I was working as a Domino’s pizza delivery guy, (busiest day of the year is Super Bowl Sunday, BTW) & had the good fortune to be called to deliver 8 pies (industry slang. I’m an insider, don’t you know?!) to a hardcore 49er fan that wouldn’t let me leave his house. He made me (twisted my arm!) sit on his couch, eat a piece of the pizza I’d just delivered, & watch the entire last drive. After, the TD, it was bedlam. The dog was the most excited out of all of us, though I think it had to do with the pizzas that fell to the floor when everyone jumped up when the touchdown was scored. We all kinda looked like Montana does, in the picture above left. I cried when he left the team for the Chefs (sic). I cried again when he retired. Never met him. Hope to, though.

Which leads me to another hero: Jerry Cook. He’s the guy in picture on the right. I met him via his book, Love, Acceptance, & Forgiveness in about 1981. It became a staple in my “Books To Read On A Yearly Basis”, along with The Chronicles of Narnia, and C.S. Lewis’ Space Trilogy.

Jerry Cook helped a pessimistic (realist?) & often cynical churched kid & sometime PK see how the church could be. Should be. Functioning with Christ’s Love. Acceptance. And Forgiveness as core values guiding the behavior of those within the church towards each other & towards those not yet there. The Jesus Jerry talks about, knows personally, & introduces to his listeners/readers transcends style, culture, national origin, gender, & age groups.

This absolutely transformed my thinking & I believe is largely responsible (along with a praying mom, several divine interventions & redirections, & lots of grace,) for me being, doing, & thinking what I be’s, do’s, & thinks. (Interestingly, when I met my friend Johannes Livelli for the first time, we just hit it off. Immediate connection. Like we’d been friends for years. I found out later that one of our biggest commonalities is our church/Jesus view were shaped by Jerry Cook – me by the books I read, him through a 7 month internship he had in WA with Jerry as his overseer. Lucky!)

I met Jerry for the 1st time in 1999; he is an authentic, engaging, compassionate person, & is a lot like what I think Jesus would be if you met him on the street. Tonight, I get to hang out with him (and a few of my closest friends too.)

It started with a Willie Mays impersonation. On April 18th, (easy date to remember, 2 days pre-4/20!) while playing shortstop I attempted to make an over-the-head catch, running full speed, by laying out. Didn’t catch the ball. Touched it, though. Landed on my extended left shoulder. Familiar pain shot through my body. Shoulder’s out.

Fortunately, Aric G, a budding chiropractor (nice picture, I know – you’re thinking of him with little flowers all over…) helped work the arm back into its rightful place. Hoped that things would heal. Nope. Rest. Strengthening exercises. Therapy (complete with ultrasound stimulus.)

Doctor’s visits brought up the possibility of a tear in the rotator cuff. That’s what it felt like from the first day, actually. I tore my right rotator cuff in high school with the help of a few friends on the football field & a fun little drill known as “The Meat Grinder.” MRI & arthrogram determine that the cuff has a complete tear that needs to be fixed asap. Cut me, Mick,” says Rocky Balboa.

I have a date: Monday, 10/9 – check in 8:30 a.m., surgery 10:30 a.m. Everything goes well, surgery’s done by 11:30 a.m. recuperate in post-op, & then go home @ 2 p.m. More info as I get it.

It’s taken a couple of days after my tests & the subsequent anti-nausea meds to feel normal, clear headed, able to process at my usual breakneck pace. The results of the MRI confirmed what the good Dr. thought in the first place – complete tear of the left rotator cuff. Surgery is being scheduled ASAP; not an emergency per se, but the good Dr. doesn’t want me doing something foolish that would/could damage the shoulder worse. Oops. Like softball. Basketball. Working out.

Thanks for your prayers.

…but nobody wants to die…

I’m reading a book (actually have about 7 or 8 going right now,) with the same title as the one I used for this post – its by David Crowder & Mike Hogan. I’ve been a-waiting for this book, on pre-order for about 3 months. Check it out here: Everybody Wants To Go…

Among other roles they fill, Crowder & Hogan are a part of the University Baptist Church in Waco; Crowder is the worship guy, & Hogan is the DJ; (I, by the way, am praying for a DJ or 4 for Hillside – & if you wonder why we might need a DJ, you haven’t heard any of the great music Crowder & Hogan put out in their day job as 2/5 of the David Crowder Band.) But that’s not why they wrote the book – it came on the heels of losing their friend & pastor in a freak water-baptism electrocution incident last October, which I blogged about HERE: Just scroll down to the bottom post entitled “?”

So, the book is about death. Death & dying. And the response of the living. Loss. Numbness. Shock. Crippling sadness. Grieving. How difficult it is to move on to normalcy, whatever that is, after the death of a loved one.

So far, so good (the book that is.) Especially interesting was reading how, because the accident occurred during a Sunday a.m. church service, that Sundays just haven’t been right ever since… A good book makes me introspective & self-evaluative; drives me to examine me & why I do what I do. I have been looking at my own responses to the death of those close to me. And also how I respond to others as they experience death, loss, tragedy, etc… I want to be able to help people navigate through the labyrinth that surrounds the mystery of death – & I know I can’t do this until/unless I can navigate it myself.

Sometimes I think that I’m doing ok with this process.

Other times, I just feel small & insignificant, marked by cares & worries, & the unknown. Death has marked me significantly, & my outlook on things. Not morbidly marked, but significantly changed by the suffering that follows on death’s coattails nonetheless. How?

I’ve been told I’m more compassionate than I was before (this may cause some of you who know me to wonder, “So, what kind of ogre WAS this Scoey?” But I digress.) I believe more. Jesus is real-er, in the quietly comforting & calmly confident kind of way. Like not feeling tempted to have to try to answer the inanswerable WHY questions, or feeling the need to offer cliches & Christian platitudes. A longing to be w/Jesus. And to be a source of comfort. And to bring peace & rest with my life, attitudes, words, & demeanor.

One of the life-issues that I wrestle with, an ever-present conundrum that I navigate regularly has popped up again. It deals with “absolutes” – you know, the situations that are accompanied by the phrases, “always” or “never,” “everyone” or “no one.”

I think that there are things that are absolutely true for every Christ-follower… we just can’t agree on what all those absolutes are.

What falls into this category? Here are a few… forgiveness, tithing, being a part of (e.g. serving & interacting) within a local church family, treating others like I’d want to be treated, & caring for others that may not be able to care for themselves. There are many more on my list, but you get the picture… Seems like any discussion about Absolute-ville that goes beyond the “love God, love people,” ilk seems like an invitation to a Sco-sized pinata-fest.

I arrived at the Washoe MRI center with plenty of time to spare, filled out the requisite paper work, & was shuttled back to the changing room. Yes. I was ushered into the place where they keep hospital gowns, those cute little numbers w/too much Southern exposure. Fortunately however, they also had cool pants which I got to wear. Seems as though the only size pants they had was Travolta in SNF. No matter, the issue wasn’t comfort or style, it was getting through the MRI & arthrogram. I must have been walking funny, because Nurse Teresa asked me if I was ok – I told her that I was fine, but that the pants must have been made for Olive Oyl’s brother She informed me that they have several sizes of pants available; unfortuneately, the only size that had come back from the cleaners was String Bean Disco king. Eventually, I found that if I shuffled like a geisha I could avoid tearing a hole in the pants – until they asked me to climb up onto the gurney. That was a sight to behold.

Anyway, in order for the MRI to sufficiently “R” (resonate), they have to insert a 22 gauge needle into the shoulder joint, drain the joint of excess fluid, then refill it with a dye that will “R” for the MRI. Any dye-filled fluid that leaks out of the shoulder joint (capsule) will leak from the tears; this illuminates the specific areas of damage so that Herr Dr. doesn’t have to lay open the shoulder & can just operate arthroscopically, (less intrusive, less damage, less recovery time.) The arthrogram process is a simple straightforward procedure. Just not today.

The Dr. Radiologist couldn’t get the needle into the joint. She tried. A lot. About two hours worth. For some reason, my shoulder has a hard “thingy” in it that parried every attempt made to get into the joint, thereby making the entire MRI process a moot point. No sedation, no “knocky-outie”, no more tests.

So, enough of the the dye that the Dr. was attempting to put into my shoulder joint made it into the surrounding tissues, meaning that I would have to wait a week or so until it dissipates; then I go in & repeat the whole process again.

I had a good conversation w/Nurse Teresa w/the spiritual catholic background – she was very inquisitive about my job & when she finally figured out what I do (hard to be specific with a 22 gauge needle in your shoulder,) she talked about spirituality, her moral code (golden rule), hypocrisy of religious people (not in an attacking way, but in the “this shouldn’t be” kinda way,) her experiences at a Christian Fellowship where she went to a get-together to connect & was ignored, & at another place she encountered Speaking In Tongues which was very spiritual & connect-y to God. Fun MMC stuff.

9/27 @ 10 a.m. is my next date w/arthro & MRI. I’m bringing my own pants next time.

Tomorrow is the long-awiated MRI (& arthrogram) day @ Washoe. The MRI takes place in a cool, vanilla scented tube-like chamber that is actually a big magnet, & it looks much like the one in the picture. I go in @ 1 p.m.

You may be wondering: why vanilla scent? Because “vanilla is calming…” Really. So I ask you – what IS calming?

It can happen when you’re driving – taking a second to change the radio, talk to a passenger, grab the cell phone, & WHOOAH, you’re headed off the road or into the lane next to you. What do you do? Overcorrect – turn the steering wheel. HARD. In the opposite direction. This can turn out to be just as dangerous, as it takes you from danger in one side of the lane to danger on the other side of it – it can destabilize the car, & cause it to roll, & if you’re going fast enough, to do an A-Team style flip.

A friend of mine in a land far, far, away quit his job at a church a few months ago. He had put his notice several months earlier, so his impending departure wasn’t a surprise to him or to anyone around him. What led to his resignation? Disconnection from the church as a whole, overwork, lack of fulfillment, clash in value systems, dissatisfaction with where life was heading, rapidly, to name a few. Leaving was a good move for him – it probably could have happened sooner – getting out seemed to be a good answer that would allow for good healing & some healthy life, church, & especially God-perspectives to settle.

What’s happened since June, however, isn’t heading in that direction at all – he’s not going to church much, & when asked about finding a point of life involvement w/in church, the response that’s given is one of disdain & disgust. Bitterness & frustration seem to be the main bubbling over by-products of where he is now. Seems to be an overcorrection. What I mean is that he’s gone from an unhealthy, frustrating situation working for a church to a place of equal unhealth – he’s worked at a church & it was a bad experience. Now, it’ll be a cold day in Hades before he makes “the mistake” of getting connected & involved in another place. Overcorrecting from a dangerous place to another dangerous place.

This happens a lot – I’ve seen it in many, many people (those that have been vocational, bi-vocational, & heavily involved in church) that get burned or burn themselves, & then think the answer is to do the opposite of what it is they did before. If a lot of “church” was bad, then cutting it back to next to zero should be better. What actually seems to be happening, however, is that the individuals are being cut off (by themselves) from the very life & health giving relationships that they need to nurture in order to get healing… Bugs me.

The remodeling & renovation projects we’ve been in for the last few months led to me losing my journal. I guess I didn’t lose it; I just misplaced it. More than once in the last week I’ve searched for this & come up short. Then, last night, when I least expected it, I came across it in a pile of books. Hooray!

One might wonder why someone with 3 online blogs needs to have a journal, yet another palce to record my thoughts, wonderings, prayers, & miscellaneous meanderings that eventually end up there… I enjoy the putting of pen to paper, & the feel of the leather cover. I’ve gotten very particular about what my journal is like… The only (reasonably priced) journal I’ve found that meets the standards I’ve set is made by Cavallini & Co. It’s called the Milano – there are a couple of hand-made, hand-crafted (translation: EXPENSIVE) journals that I really like, but I couldn’t bring myself to spend $80+ for them…

Finding my journal means I get to return to writing – I haven’t been able to write over the last few weeks because I couldn’t start in another journal, knowing from experience that this one would show up eventually. It got me to thinking – sometimes I wonder how much specific personal revelation should go into my journal… its not like this forum, which is meant to be read, commented on, & responded to – its a collection of private thoughts, frustrations, hopes, dreams, & failures… What if it falls into someone else’s hands? Do I want that kind of personal revelation for all to see, or is writing in my own “code” something that is dictated by prudence?

Thoughts?