Odd title, right? Let me see if I can tie those 3 things together for you.
Some of you may remember me talking about my “bad big toe” before we went on vacation in June and July. The toenail on my right big toe had been a problem for some time – I can’t even remember how it was originally injured – and the toenail finally came all the way off earlier this year. Kind of freaky because I’d never lost a toenail before, but ok. A new nail was already growing underneath, but it didn’t look right. Instead of being nice and new and perfect-looking, it was growing out in a sort of convex manner, with the entire top edge growing INTO my toe. An ingrown toenail all across the top edge of the nail – yipee!! Very painful, and not what I wanted to happen with this new toenail.
The pain had sort of a cycle it would go through: There would be intense pain as the nail grew and hit new areas of unsuspecting skin, then a decrease in pain for a week or so as it settled down, then another round of intense pain as it grew more. Nails grow REALLY slowly… Now, you would think I’d go see the doctor, right, because it hurt so much? Wrong! You have to understand what this year has been like.
Things started off with a bang in January when I woke up with a case of Bell’s Palsey (the week I was to speak at a conference – yay!), then 1 large and 2 small (“small” being relative…) kidney stones, also in January, and a leak in my “bleb”, in January as well!
I’m pretty sure that instead of thinking “wow, that’s a lot of drama in one month!”, you’re most likely wondering “what’s a bleb?”. OK, so by definition, a bleb is a small blister or bulge. When dealing with glaucoma (which I am), a bleb is a blister-like fluid collection formed during a trabeculectomy (traditional glaucoma surgery that creates a new fluid drainage canal). A bleb has to be present on the surface of the eye for the surgery to work. Aqueous fluid (the fluid inside the eye) flows through the fistula (new drainage canal) into this bleb where it then finds its way out of the eye. Voila! Reduced eye pressure! But when there is a leak in the bleb (which is sort of common – these critters are sensitive), the eye is at risk for infection and pressure that is too LOW, which is totally foreign concept for those of us who battle glaucoma. But I digress.
So by the time June rolled around, I was pretty much emotionally done with having issues that required me to involve the extended medical community. I’m moody like that.
So, after weeks (months?) of pretty intense pain (couldn’t stand to have a bed sheet rest on that toe…) I went to see a podiatrist. This was about a month before our big European trip in June. His advice? Well, first he said, “Hmmm. I’ve seriously never seen anything like that before.” Great. After I made appropriate encouraging head gestures, he offered his advice. Which was to remove the nail permanently, as the nail bed had likely been damaged and it would always give me grief. At that point it hurt so much that I asked if he had time to do it RIGHT NOW. He said to go home and think about it. Which I did.
Well, the more I thought about it, the more that answer just didn’t sit right with me. Remove the entire nail FOREVER just because it hurts NOW? I decided I’d just wait, soak it every day, baby it, and see if I could smooth the top edge after it had grown out more. But there was a risk – what if it hurt this much while we were in Europe for 3 weeks, doing a lot of walking and touring? The doc had said the pain following removal would be nothing compared to the pain I was having now. Temping. But I decided against it. I figured that I would wear sandals during our vacation, since Italy and Greece tend to be hot during the summer, and as long as I didn’t whack that toe too often, it would be ok even it did hurt.
So off we went on our adventure to Italy and Greece, me with my sandals and a toe that would make your stomach lurch if you looked at it (scabby, oozy… ). So far so good. We walked a bunch every day, and it was a-ok. Hit it a few times, but the pain was not too bad.
Then about halfway through the trip, it started to heal. I figured that out when I realized I wasn’t constantly focused on keeping the toe safe and hiding it from people’s view. I was just WALKING LIKE A NORMAL PERSON! The injury started to get better. And by the end of the trip, it was all better! No pain, no ingrown top edge, no scab, no oozing. It just looked like a particularly short, normal big toenail.
And it got me to thinking about pain and patience. Instead of the podiatrist telling me, “I know it hurts a lot right now, but perhaps the right course of action is to let the body do its job and see how this heals over time. We can always remove it later if daily soaking, keeping it open to the air, and being a bit careful don’t work.” I was encouraged to take drastic (in my opinion) action to stop the dang pain.
Have you noticed how our culture’s M.O. is to do whatever it takes to MAKE THE PAIN STOP? Doesn’t matter if the pain is physical, emotional, spiritual, or mental. Doesn’t matter that the pain is doing what it is supposed to be doing, we want it to stop.
Pain tells us that something is wrong. We may have emotional pain if we want something really badly and can’t have it. Or if someone we love dearly is suddenly gone. And we want it to stop hurting so much. We may have spiritual pain if we have committed some sin and are facing the consequences. And we rush to “make it right” (which is the right thing to do, don’t get me wrong), because we want the pain and discomfort to stop.
Pain is a consequence of some sort of action. Sometimes the action was ours, sometimes it wasn’t. My toe hurt because I had injured it. Had I not injured it, it wouldn’t have hurt. If I rob a bank, I will be in emotional (and maybe physical) pain when I get caught. If a friend does something horrible to me, it will hurt, even if I didn’t do anything wrong. When I am depressed, it hurts, even when I’m doing all the right things to get better. True healing almost always takes way longer than we think it should. God’s timetable is different than ours, but His timing is always RIGHT.
The thing I learned with my toe was that sometimes you just have to be patient and endure the pain as you move towards healing. Be faithful in doing the right things, and then practice patience as you let healing work. Have faith that doing the right thing will, in the end, bring healing. If God wants you to change course, He’ll let you know. He always does.
If my toe had had bright red streaks running down my foot and been oozing green pus (sorry, that’s gross, I know…), and swollen to 3 times its size, I’d have done something more drastic to deal with it. But it wasn’t doing those things. It hurt. Oozy, but not infected. My body was doing what it’s supposed to do – heal an injury. The toe needed time and proper care to heal. Just like we do. And I have a brain that allows me to decide what the appropriate action is.
We are so afraid of pain.
Pain is so often an important teacher, but sometimes we are so intent on escaping the pain that we totally miss the lesson. We find a way to stop the pain, then go merrily on our way, thinking we have solved the problem. But what if we didn’t? What if all did was make the pain go away and the problem is still there?
I’m thankful that my toe is all better. Thankful that all the kidney stones (that I’m aware of…) have left my body, thankful that my bleb leak is fixed (another story in patience). My point isn’t to neglect getting care when you need it. I guess my point is to try and see what message pain has for you. To take a step back, stop focusing on the discomfort, and instead figure out what the cause of the pain is and what the proper course of action should be.
I still hate pain, but I am getting better at figuring out what message it has for me.
Peripheral Wisdom 