I had major surgery last week and have been recuperating
at home after a one-night stay in hospital. All of the nurses at the hospital following
my surgery asked me about my level of pain, quite continuously…how I was
feeling and if the drugs were making me comfortable. Let me just say, the pain
pump in the IV is a grand invention. I was doing great. Once I got home, fortunately
I had some pretty hard-hitting drugs, and my level of pain was medium and my
level of comfort was better than it could have been without the marvels of
modern medicine. No pain pump, but my alarm reminded me when to take the drugs.
But even with the drugs, overall, I was still really uncomfortable. I was out
of my normal routine. I was in pain. I couldn’t eat what I normally ate (which
maybe was a good thing??). And I couldn’t sleep in my normal sleeping position.
I couldn’t lift anything over 5 pounds. And I wasn’t able to walk more than 200
feet without feeling like I was going to pass out. So I was generally really uncomfortable.
Yes, it passed for the most part. I still have twinges of pain this morning.
And in certain sleeping or sitting positions, I gasp in a bit of pain. But this
situation has shown me how we can totally be lulled into a false sense of
security that our comfort is just every day normal and won’t ever be
challenged…that somehow, we will always have some level of comfort and normalcy
in our lives. That nothing major will change or happen and we’ll just continue
day by day. Almost a “we are invincible” type thought process. Yes, I was (and
still am a bit) feeling challenged physically in regards to my comfort. I just
want to be healed and be done with this. Alas, it takes time. So I patiently do
what I need to do in order to recover my “normal” level of comfort. I’m not
typically a patient person…
So as I was recovering this past weekend, I was shocked
and saddened, along with many others, to read about the horrifying news of 6
Americans killed and severely injured in Afghanistan due a suicide bomber attack. One
of the murdered individuals was a young, bright Foreign Service Officer who was
just starting out her life in the FS, Anne Smedinghoff from Illinois (pictured above)…she and the others in the group were
delivering books to a local group of children in one of the local villages in
Afghanistan outside the “safe area” when they were attacked and killed. They were working to provide a certain level of comfort and normalcy to the people of Afghanistan. It is
so very difficult to help provide comfort for others in such a grand loss. I
have several colleagues and friends who are struggling with very important losses in their lives: the loss of a loving
aunt, the death of a close and dear friend, the loss of a husband a year ago, the unexpected hospitalization of a good friend for a severe issue, and the recent loss of a good friend's mother,
and the loss of her father not so long ago. My heart aches for people when they are in pain
like this. It is a completely different kind of pain than physical pain…though
it sometimes literally feels like you have a pain in your heart. Loss is so
very difficult, especially when it is not expected…but even when it is looming…so
very difficult. I ache for the family members and friends of those killed in
Afghanistan...and for those families and friends of those lost in previous attacks and battles in Iraq, Afghanistan and Pakistan. I sometimes stress myself
out wondering how I can comfort friends who are affected by these situations. What can I say? What can I do? Is there
anything that can help relieve their pain? Sometimes there are words…other
times there is nothing to say. A wise friend of mine once said to me that
sometimes the best comfort you can give someone is to just tell them your
honest feelings…which for me was “I have no idea what to say. My heart aches
for you and I just want you to know I’m here for you when you need me.” When I
said this to someone a while back during a horrible crisis this person was
having, it didn’t really make me feel better…in fact it made me feel helpless…but
my friend told me it meant a lot to her that I was here for her if she needed
me. I wanted her to understand that I may not be able to help heal her or take
away her pain, but I wanted to try to help with some level of comfort for her.
Many times it doesn’t feel like enough, no matter what we do.
Loss is never easy, no matter what the situation. And we
all deal with it differently. Comfort isn’t easy either. We all need different
kinds and levels of comfort at different times. My Faith still challenges me
greatly in this area. How could God take away someone so young and full of
promise? How could God allow us as human beings to suffer so greatly and so
deeply? If he died for our sins, why do we still have to endure the loss and
grief of our loved ones? It sometimes does not make any sense to me. But I do
know that God has put others on Earth and in our lives to help us. To comfort
us when we need it. I’m a strong believer that God puts people in your life
(and you in theirs) when it is most needed. And not always for the reasons you
might think. I have heard this many times though I don’t know the source, so I
write it as unattributed: “With great love comes great loss and great despair.
But also with great love comes great comfort and joy and happiness within.” It
helps to comfort me at small points throughout the grieving process. Other
times it just makes me angry, which I know deep down is part of the whole big
picture of things. My supposition is that we are all here to help others in
some way, no matter how small. So that does bring me a certain level of
comfort.
A wonderful friend from work came by this week to visit
me and brought her 2 little dogs to visit. One of them has been very sick and
this was her first time out. For those of you who know how much I love dogs,
this comes as no surprise that I got down on the floor and pet and loved them
both. I was in quite a bit of physical pain, but that time with my friend and
her pups was a great comfort to me. When she left, I was still in pain
physically, by emotionally and mentally, I felt lifted. And during her visit, I
had pushed past some of the physical pain. It is always so nice when someone
does something to help someone else’s comfort level in some way…that day my
friend comforted me greatly and I am sincerely appreciative for her visit J
As I prepare my packing list for Greece, I’m
incorporating “comfort” items to help me adjust. It sounds so silly, especially
when some of my colleagues will be in places like Mali, Nigeria, Yemen, and
other very austere and dangerous locations. I can get just about anything I
need when I am in Greece (thanks to Amazon.com and the Western European culture…).
But for me, there are certain things that will bring me that small level of
comfort when I first get there, so I’m taking them with me set to arrive with
my UAB (unaccompanied Air Baggage – usually arrives within 1-2 weeks after I
get to post): lavender/vanilla dryer sheets, a few boxes of pumpkin and date
bread mix, my flute and a few pieces of music, and my stuffed dog animal. I
know that even though I’m going to a great location for my first post, I’ll
have some major twangs of adjustment and discomfort. Living in a new place
always does that…overseas, US or the next town over. After the honeymoon
period, I know I’ll be missing family and friends, and that I will even miss certain
US culture items and conveniences. I just need to plan for that feeling. But it
will eventually pass. And another great comfort to me is that when I arrive in
Greece, there will be a group of people who are there already who understand
this process…who have been through it before…who can help my level of comfort
with little things…other FSOs and family members. So they will inadvertently
help my comfort level by helping me find a nice local grocer, or help me scope
out a good place to get local food (yeah!), or will show me the best route to
get to the beach (see? So much to be thankful for with this post!) J And when someone new
arrives, I can (and will) pay it forward. I can then provide someone else with
that little bit of comfort in a foreign situation.
For me, I have to remind myself often that my ultimate
comfort comes from internal peace and grace through my Faith. And that God does
not allow me go through this life alone. We will all face physical, mental, and
emotional challenges throughout our lives…but with the love and support of
others, and the support we find in our Faith (no matter what that Faith may be),
that comfort will be there for each and every one of us so we can work to help
others find their comfort in life as well.
I found this song somewhat by accident this morning, and honestly, I think it speaks to this topic so well...and it speaks to me as well...the song is by Birdy and is called "People Help the People...we can all provide some level of comfort to others...let's do that all that we can...and I truly believe it will come back to us thousand fold.
:)
ReplyDeleteSo very true. Sometimes the greatest comfort comes from those who have no idea they are even helping you.
ReplyDeleteThe kind sales clerk who always has a smile on her face, no matter the circumstances; the man who holds the door pleasantly and lets you pass. The child who has no idea why you might be upset, but is willing to climb up in your lap and hug you for no more reason then because you look like you need it.
And as to your words of not knowing how to comfort someone suffering a loss, yours was the greatest of all comfort...being honestly available to them for whatever they might want or need. The words "I'm here for you" have no stronger feeling nor lesser spiritual value than anything else the person could possibly have said. Is it not the same with God? He doesn't promise happiness nor freedom from terrible things happening, but what He does promise is that, forever and always, He will be there for us.
Thanks again for sharing your thoughts with us. Again, a truly wonderful blog.
Cheers,
B