Numbing the Pain

Last week I threw out my back, and if you’ve ever had lower back problems before, I’m sure you can feel my pain for even the simplest of movements we often take for granted. Getting out of bed requires rolling like a log, and baby steps takes on new meaning as it takes forever to get from point A to B. And there’s no hiding it from anyone when I lean 30 degrees forward as if someone threw 50 pounds over my shoulders.

This isn’t the first time my back disagreed with my intentions. The last time I was given strict instructions by my wife not to do anything dumb or get injured playing basketball since we were getting on a plane for vacation the next morning. My back didn’t listen very well (or maybe that was me), and I humbly admit I wasn’t very helpful carrying our luggage or doing anything of value for that matter over the next week on the beach. Not sure I even made it to the beach.

But I like to think that I’ve learned a lesson or two lately about getting help when something isn’t right with my body or health. Or maybe the lesson is just listening to my wife. Probably both. Without much debate, I went straight to a physical therapist to get me straightened out this go around. After all, I had a golf match in a couple days (ok, maybe I haven’t really learned that much). And low and behold, the combination of stretching the right muscles and consistently applying some new exercises proved invaluable for me to get back on me feet in no time. Well, in time for golf that is.

As we approach my next round of scans in a couple weeks, it’s hard not to look back 12 months when my cancer journey began. I was down 50 pounds, coughing incessantly if not embarrassingly, and starting to have night sweats. Despite pleading from my wife and a growing line of friends, I wasn’t in much of a hurry to get input from a professional. Meaning I was stupidly slow to go to see a doctor to actually get me straightened out. You could say I was blind to the obvious symptoms I kept complaining about and subsequently deaf to anyone who suggested I call a time out.

Who likes to call time outs? Coaches only do that when things are going poorly in the game, and I was too busy running the plays and sweating (I mean glistening) to pause or slow down. Now that I can hop in the DeLorean of my mind and go back in time like Marty McFly, I can see how silly I must have looked. Totally stubborn and feeling too important to realize I was hunched over 30 degrees and walking like a buffoon.

Thinking about the current culture (and dare I say idol) of busyness, I believe it’s a bit too easy to get caught up in the daily grind without thought, reflection, or reason. Our calendars are so jammed with stuff, much of it good stuff, that we don’t have the margin to actually see or think clearly. We get in the habit of hurry, which increasingly numbs us to deeper meaning and substance. We too easily become content with what the world wants from us rather than those we love and cherish the most.

I consider myself quite fortunate at the moment since I’ve been forced to call a time out. Lost my health. Lost my job. Voila! The discipline of slowing is so much easier now. But what about later, if and when life “normalizes” with a more predictable rhythm? What do I need to structurally change in my life to make sure I don’t slip back into old habits or recreate a calendar that numbs me to such obvious and painful distractions?

For all my employed friends (which I hope includes everyone) who might be struggling with the angst and pressures of a heavy calendar, please oh please take a moment to call a time out. Otherwise a time out may be called for you. It doesn’t have to be more than a half day of reflection or a breakfast by yourself, although I would recommend taking a full day off from all of your obligations to just be. Think about what matters most in your life, and then make sure you are investing your time where you can get the greatest return that also aligns with your top priorities and objectives.

This exercise requires removing the noise and probably could use some reading and reflection material followed by thought and prayer. And write down what moves you. Then repeat 30 days later. Or more often if “time allows.”

Let’s get proactive by prescribing breathing room that will keep us sharp and focused rather than numb and blind. Then just maybe we'll get in better shape on our own so we don't feel the sharp pain of breaking down.