A Pause from the Daily Grind
We all know a Ned Ryerson. He's the annoying Captain Obvious who gives us great hindsight only after we step in a knee-deep puddle. In the case of Groundhog Day, Phil Connors had the pleasure of bumping into Needlenose Ned every day only to constantly hear his nasally mocking voice: "Watch out for that first step!! It's a doozy!" (maniacal laugh, maniacal laugh).
As I'm yet again drawn to a Bill Murray icon of the 90s, my daily routine this past week makes me feel like I've also been waking up to the same song each morning and going in repeated circles throughout the day. Take pills, eat, ache, complain about the ache, walk the kids to the bus, check email, eat again, lie down, watch Netflix, stand up, stretch, sit down, complain about the ache some more, walk to the bus, watch ESPN, eat, take pills, struggle to fall asleep. Repeat wash and rinse.
The physical pain in my back, abdomen, and leg has been driving me stir crazy but also makes it difficult to focus for very long. Thankfully I was able to get into the office for a few hours yesterday to break things up a bit and feel more normal. Next week will hopefully allow me to do more activities as I move further away from surgery and the trough of the initial chemo infusion (usually between days 8-10), although we just learned that I need to have another spinal tap toward the end of the week which is already messing with my head like Ned (Bing!). Then round 2 begins the following Monday on October 16th.
Given the absence of productivity combined with restlessness and pesky pains, it would be pretty easy for me to take a line from Phil. "I'll give you a winter prediction: it's gonna be cold, it's gonna be grey, and it's gonna last you the rest of your life." To be truthful, I've been kind of crabby extrapolating and thinking about my winter ahead. Is this how I'm going to feel for the next 3 months? And fatigue is supposed to accrue from here? Ugh.
Just when I'm tempted to wallow in my discomfort, I'm reminded about the brevity of this season and more importantly the green pasture on the other side. "For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison." (2 Corinthians 4:17). This is but a moment, and my current burden is light relative to the weight of other cancers that might be far more debilitating than what I'm going through (my side effects have frankly been minimal and modest so far through the first two weeks).
But let us not lose sight of the big picture implications either. I just finished a great book from a young pastor (Paul Wolfe) who was also treated for non-Hodgkin's lymphoma 15 years ago. He made a strong point that we easily reverse the magnitude of our present suffering with this future reality; we think our troubles are too big now with little appreciation or expectation for the far more significant eternal glory ahead. Paul again writes "For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us." (Romans 8:18). There is so much more around the corner that we simply cannot see just yet. But that doesn't mean it's not there to be fully grasped and claimed by those who hold true to the promises of God.
We all have a daily grind to one degree or another. Some days are filled with more routine than others, although we're learning firsthand that God can be found and experienced no matter the forecast of our circumstances. It just so happens that He often likes to blow up routine to get our attention so that we're reminded of His presence and eternal glory - and that is beyond all comparison, Ned.