Insult-to-Injury Moments

Sometimes there are things that I call "insult-to-injury" things. They are events that aren't that big in-and-of themselves, but because of their context, they add insult to injury. I hate these events.

Did you know that after every core biopsy taken take from breast tissue and marked with a tiny titanium marker, they have to perform two mammograms of that breast? That is insult to injury. They even do mammograms after stereo tactic MRI-guided wire locations. That is insult to injury.

On the day of my surgery last week, after undergoing unpleasant-at-best procedures all morning, I was finally moving towards surgery. They were taking my vitals, and placed one of those automated blood-pressure cuffs on my arm. It was hooked up to a scientific-looking machine, and began to inflate. And it kept inflating. Meanwhile, the nurse walked out to get more thermometer covers. It kept inflating. When the pain was excruciating and I had no feeling left in my hand, I ripped the dumb thing off. Still it kept inflating! That was insult to injury.

The thing that makes insult-to-injury moments so hard to deal with is that you have paced yourself and know your limits on the scheduled things. I knew how to get through those horrid procedures: I was leaning on the Lord, being courageous and mentally and spiritually tough for the long haul. Then something like a vicious blood pressure machine comes along, and upsets your plans. Your find yourself at the end of yourself. There are no emotional reserves: you just spent the wad getting through the last thing.

So, the real question with injury-to- insult moments is what you will do with them? I don't want them to make me bitter. I don't want them sending me, spiraling, into despair. So, I cry a little: it helps spend the emotions a bit. And I try to "lean into" them. In child birth class, a billion years ago, our teacher talked about "leaning into" the pain: don't fight it, but use it: realize what it is accomplishing and relax around it to allow it to do its work. These insult-to-injury moments are accomplishing things in my soul, so I had better learn to relax around them, embrace them, and let them do their work. I love the way Paul puts it in 2 Corinthians 4: 16-18:

So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.

And lest anyone reading this blog think I am preaching at someone, please be assured that the someone I am preaching to is just me. This is the truth: what I need to hear and remember and cling to. Pray for the Lord to make me successful at it!