…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?

Here’s a shout out to Darrell Rasner for his 1st Major League Victory – he pitched a stellar game for the Yankees yesterday. Congratulations!
Rasner Picks Up 1st MLB Victory

Darrell & his wife Jen & son Evan are a part of Hillside in the off-season…

Started commenting on this in my previous post & got carried away…

Tuesday night TV watching for Witta Woowie Wocke (1 hour) was devoted to “The A-Team” – in the post-VietNam USA, something was needed to make the people of the country feel good about our soldiers & the travesty of an unwinnable war in Viet Nam. Apocolypse Now didn’t make us feel good, & Magnum PI was pretty intense as well in the way the show had dealt with the very real & very serious issues faced by vets as they attempted to reintegrate into society. The A-Team came at the topic from a slapstick action-adventure TV show, where no one ever got killed or hurt, despite the 3.2 billion bullets fired & bombs exploded in each episode of the show.

The premise of the show was that duh-duh-duh-duh…in 1972, a crack commando unit was sent to prison by a military court for a crime they did not commit. They promptly escaped a maximum security stockade into the Los Angeles Underground. Today, still wanted by the government, they exist as soldiers of fortune. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire…

The A-Team. Dah, duh-dah, duh-dah-dunh…Love it.

Think about it. These guys, the A-Team, a group of all-around good eggs, serve as soldiers of fortune, usually for free, as modern day heroes that rescue the poor & underprivileged of society. Still, they were accused of a crime that they didn’t commit by the Evil Military Establishment (the same guys, no doubt, that forced John Rambo to retaliate after they took “First Blood.” But that’s another post.)

Here’s a run down of the main players:

Hooray- thanks for the prayers.
After waiting a month, a prayer & a phone call got me a return call with not ONE but TWO appointments to have an MRI See: What’s an MRI? & an arthrogram (See: What’s an Arthrogram?)

The plan comes together on 9/14 in the afternoon 1:33-ish, – & depending on my speedy recovery, I should be up & ready to go for Johnny’s game @ 5 p.m., followed by my speeching on Matthew 5:14-16ish at InterVarsity.

I ask for & value your prayers as I continue this process.

Still waiting for the call on the MRI that will allow the doctor to see just exactly how much cutting needs to be done on the shoulder. At this point, I’m using my Jedi-pain management techniques, but am rapidly succumbing to the dark side. I’m finding myself looking for the advil bottle more frequently, & am having the “puppy whimpering noise” that inadvertently comes out of my mouth when I overextend the shoulder, or open the door, or turn on the gas bbq, or move.

My defense shield has failed, & the warp-drive containment shield is deteriorating. I don’t know how much more she can stand, Captain.

A side note; being in pain causes pain in other ways – I find that my interpersonal relationships are suffering from the “in pain & I’m being short & gruff w/everyone” issues, resulting from the inner-moron being released on a more regular basis. Or something like that.

Anyone else ever have a similar experience?