Chaplain on the Other Side of the Rail

  I realize it has been a while since I have shared anything about my journey. Let me take a few minutes to catch up. I like this to a kitchen renovation. Phase one was dealing with the blocked ureter. Honestly, that seems to be going very well. i’ll have another ultrasound sometime before the end of the summer, but unless other symptoms come up, we will consider that matter addressed. I’m grateful at how well that went. Now, we get on. Phase 2 is not exactly like new construction. Rather, it’s about learning to live with some of the things that came from the construction.  Maybe, it’s like going from a gas stove to an induction stove. There are new tools that weren’t enough previously. There are new dishes, because the old ones weren’t meeting the need. I had a specialized PET scan. When you get a PET scan, it’s kind of like a CT scan with a particular kind of radiotracer. They injected me with the tracer, and I waited for about an hour, and once it had time to go ...

  I realize that I have not communicated in a while about my health and about my concerns. I have been telling people that I feel kind of like a kitchen renovation. Things are going well with phase one, and once phase one is done, we can go onto phase 2. And perhaps, when phase 2 is done we can get onto phase 3. Phase one is the blockage of my ureter. I seem to have recovered well from that surgery. I still have some places where the surgical glue is still there, and occasionally the dog or one of the cats put the paw someplace that isn’t perfectly comfortable, but I feel a lot closer to normal. Let me correct that: I feel a lot closer to something like normal. I have to admit that I’m not sure what normal is. At any rate, on Monday I see my urologist for the critical follow up for the blockage. We are also going to be talking about next steps. As I said, there is phase 2. My PSA has continued to rise. A month ago I joked that, while United Healthcare had denied my speci...

 I am learning – relearning – what it means simply to get on with it.  A week ago today I had my procedure. I keep saying that: I should be saying clearly that a week ago today. I had my surgery. The good news is that I seem to be coming along nicely. The small wounds across my body from the robotic scope are still a little tender to the touch, but they don’t bother me moment by moment. The same is true of the hole in the back where I used to have the drain from my kidney. I’m doing a little more each day, and I have had my first shower. That was lovely. It was also a little frightening. Something about showering always catches my more painful knee and I have to work around that. While I have been told I can shower, I have been cautioned against the tub bath or a hot tub or anything that would keep all of these little wounds submerged. So, I find myself stopping to wonder just how wet is too wet. That’s what things are like at this point: I’m now safe enough and comforta...

“  O God of unchangeable power and eternal light: Look favorably on your whole Church, that wonderful and sacred mystery; by the effectual working of your providence, carry out in tranquillity the plan of salvation; let the whole world see and know that things which were cast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are being made new, and that all things are being brought to their perfection by him through whom all things were made, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.” I am on record stating that this prayer is the single most important prayer in the Episcopal Church. It’s not about the most prominent day. Rather, it comes up on important days pointing forward. It is the last solemn collect in the liturgy for Good Friday. It is the last collect in the Great Vigil of Easter. Finally, it is the prayer for every ordination. Now, not everyone would agree with me, I suppose, b...

  It is the morning after the night before; which is to say that I have my next procedure this morning. I could say I’m going under the robot, and it would be more accurate than saying “under the knife,” but not as dramatic.   I am hopeful. I am also a little tired of this. And I am blessed: so far this is not a new pattern. I knew there are folks for whom something like this is standard. Some pattern may become standard for me, but I’m not there yet.  There seem to be a number of verses of the Psalms that begin “When….” That thought is meaningful for me today. It is also meaningless, at least in the recognition that I don’t control much of anything. I have to hearnwhat I have said often to others: control is an illusion.  I am not your average patient. I will feel better when they actually get me back to Pre-op. That’s what comes of having spent so much of my life in hospitals. Let’s just get this started. 

    These days, I am dealing with pain. For some time now, my daily routine has involved naproxen twice a day or ibuprofen several times a day, carrying on with my arthritic knees. Right now I am in that time before a procedure, when they require that you stop all NSAIDS. And so I’m relying on acetaminophen to do what it can do, and beyond that I am simply doing less. In all of this, I’m not really wrestling with the Problem of Pain. I do have a framework to think about that, of course. Anybody who’s really wrestled with their theology figures out where they’re going to stand on that, however, difficult that stand might be. No, I am quite clear that the appropriate answer to the question of, “why me?“is just “why not me?“ Years ago, when I was the chaplain who helped open a small suburban hospital, I was asked to participate in the process improvement committee for pain management. The nurse was coordinating. It said that was because, “pain is always a spiritual issue, isn...