Ten minutes to reflect on bodily frailty.
I was lifting something heavy, a normal activity but well into the margin of difficulty. As I lifted, my dominant (right) arm was slightly twisted. Under the strain I heard 3 sudden pops, like bones rubbing hard in a twist. I dropped the load, safely, in real pain, though manageable. Nearby onlookers -- I was dumping a washing machine into the dumpster -- saw my situation and finished the job for me as I wondered what to do.
I went to an MD friend who recommended ER for an Xray. Broken bones ruled out, I await an MRI and visit with an Orthopedic doctor.
Another MD friend determined it is almost certainly the biceps tendon I discussed in Monday's post.
Frailty. I remember the tears beneath the surface as I told my wife. We take mobility for granted and now my right arm is out, along with all the activities that demand its use. This is not easy. I find myself chafing. Where is peace, resignation?
I long for the realization of helplessness and willingness to allow others to help. It is such a proper human thing, the oil of humility in the midst of thinking we can do anything and everything, no need to rely on others.
This is a bane. I have not been aware of it well, no doubt because that which is close goes unnoticed. Until. Until we are broken and helpless and see our frailty.
Of course this doesn't mean we neglect self-reliance. But we remember, in these times, how much we need others. And, how much others need to be needed. Nothing hurts worse than wanting to love and help and being rebuffed by the self-sufficient and self-reliant. We all need one another and something like inter-dependence is the best approach.
I pray for grace, with tenderness, tears, and gratitude for a torn biceps tendon.
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