Dealing With a Life Sentence

First, let me say how very much I love my wife – even when I do stupid things that hurt her. God has blessed her in many ways, but culinary skill was not one of them. (Did I mention I love her very much?) So, I usually do the lion’s share of food prep in our house. I am no Julia Child, but I do alright. Using razor sharp kitchen implements takes a certain amount of confidence. Confidence that you will create a beautiful dinner for your family without inadvertently slicing off a finger. A few years ago, I was using one of those mandolin-type slicers that cut vegetables so thin you can read a newspaper through them. They come with a plastic guard to keep a safe distance between the razor sharp blade and the aforementioned finger. A smarter man would have been using that guard, but I am not a smart man. (GROSS-OUT ALERT IN 3..2..1..) It seems that, in addition to slicing a wicked thin pile of onions, I also nearly sliced off the tip of one of my fingers.

Then came the obligatory rush to the minor emergency clinic (seemed major to me) to have my finger returned to its rightful configuration. Yes, getting TWO STITCHES was the most painful thing I have experienced since Kenny G’s first album.

That brings me to the point that pain is completely relative to the person experiencing the pain. A couple days after getting the stitches, I had no pain at all, but my wife lives in a world where the pain is intense and without end. It is a prison for her – a life sentence without the possibility of parole.

That put things in perspective for me. Now, when I fall off a ladder (as I did trimming a tree a couple weekends ago), it gives me pause. As I was looking up at the sky from the yard, I thought, “Well, this is nothing compared to what she has.” I know pain is not a contest, but it does make me think twice before I complain about my back hurting when she is in her chair unable to get into a comfortable position.

I try my best to understand RSD – I do. It’s hard because my back was fine in a couple days, but her pain will never go away. The best her meds will ever do for her is make her slightly less uncomfortable. That’s gotta suck. I would have gone completely mad years ago, but she has the grace and faith to somehow hold herself together through all of this. I have heard it said that God will never give you more than you can handle. Well, she is a living example of what God can do on earth because I certainly could not handle what she lives with every day.
I should remember that when I do stupid, hurtful things.