Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Someone asked me recently if I believed in karma. Thinking I knew where the question was headed I replied, “No, not if you’re talking about that come back as an earthworm bit to learn humility because you missed the lesson the first time around.”
Well.... Seems karma decided teach me a lesson anyway. :/
A few posts back I mentioned an abscess caused by infection. Fun stuff, that. Especially the twice a day packing where one fills the hole with strips of cloth impregnated with iodaform. (It’s what makes “the hospital smell.” Ugh)
Last night, I discovered what I thought was my last bandage, the one I applied over the ‘gaping maw’ until it closed completely, had been soaked through. Subsequent digging, poking, and squeezing revealed a drainage point and I sent an email to the doctor handling the case, describing what I observed.
Her response: “Come see me at 11:00am.”
Sigh. I was afraid of that. :)
I watched, fascinated, as she laid out her tools with the air of long practice. She chatted amiably about plans for her future, barely glancing at me as she tore open packages and pads, scissors and swabs, and laid them out on her tray.
“This will be uncomfortable,” she said as she brandished a long handled cotton tipped swab. Her eyes met mine, and I’m sure I saw something like regret on her face.
I shrugged and told her not to worry about it as I scrambled to get my video recording phone into position. Laid back as I was, I could see neither her work, nor the screen, and I hoped my estimated angle was correct.
She nodded and turned to her task.
I couldn’t help wonder what she was thinking as she poked and prodded, seemingly indifferent to the fact that her canvas was a living body, full of nerves and sensitive places that simply don’t respond well to the intrusion of foreign objects.
Obviously she cared, else she wouldn’t have made her comment, and yet, she worked with the casual precision of a master painter, well versed in the art of wielding a brush. Such precision either comes from long practice, or from simply divorcing herself from the reality of the situation. Yet neither seemed to apply to this pleasant lady. She was not old, nor did she present herself as brusque or uncaring.
As I looked down at myself, laid out like meat on a slab and still modest to the world, it occurred to me there must be a third option. Something I had not considered until now: Resolve.
Her blue gloved hands were deft and sure, and her voice as she described her suspicion was steady and crisp.
“Ah, that’s what I thought,” she said and held up the wooden handle of the swab, indicating the depth of her discovery with a thumb placed almost two inches from the opposite end. “You’ve got another pocket.”
In layman’s terms, for I surely cannot remember the technicalities, she described a ‘hole beneath the hole’ where the previous infection, now thankfully gone, had left a kind of chamber that filled with fluid and needed to be drained.
Again.
I should have known, should have expected it. Hadn’t I described just such a thing during the first go-around, and hadn’t I removed a chunk of ‘stuff’ from that very hole? Knowing that the healing process must occur from the bottom up, I should have realized that the cavity was not simply ‘the space between muscle and skin’ as I originally thought, and should have packed deeper.
My bad, but then again, I’m not a trauma surgeon. There are some things I do not know after all. :)
I acknowledged her explanation and she looked at me again, closely.
“I have to say, I am surprised by how stable you are. Most people wouldn’t be able to deal with this sort of thing very well.”
“What sort of thing?” I asked.
She shrugged. “You know, the pain, the packing. Stuff like that.”
I smiled and nodded. “Oh. I have a high tolerance. That’s all.”
True enough, but in light of my revelation watching her work, it came to me that there was perhaps another reason as well: Resolve.
Simply put, personal resolve makes us do what needs to be done, even when the work isn’t enjoyable. Resolve carries us to destinations despite the hazardous travel conditions, and it allows us to be strong when we’d much rather run crying from the situation.
Her resolve to do the work, despite the pain she knew she would cause. My resolve to accept the circumstances as fact and deal with them.
Our resolve to reach our goals, regardless of the stumbling blocks life often puts in our path as we make and keep a place for ourselves in this wide world. Resolve guarantees we arrive, wiser if not safer, and cements our position in the great karmic equation.
And personally, I have no intention of coming back as an earthworm. :)
Thank you Angila, for your commitment and for your resolve. I wish you the best of luck on your new adventure, and I’m confident you’ll reach your chosen destinations easily. No resolve needed. :)
Folks, I kid you not. I have the very best doctors in the world!
Patric