A Love That’s True

No marriage is without its stress points. Whether it’s something internal between husband and wife or something external that life throws at both of them, hard times can either make or break a relationship.

Broken HeartStatistics show, for example, that having a bankruptcy can cause a couple to split up. The birth of a special needs child can do it, too, or in-law problems, a critical spouse, or chronic health issues. And when life-and-death cancer hits, anything can happen.

A couple could blame each other for the dilemma they’re in. They might argue about it and berate each other, harming their relationship. But they could also weather the storm together, clinging to one another tighter than ever.

Mary and Bervin are currently traveling through one of those life-and-death crises, each of them exposed to a mountain of stress and sadness. Cancer has a way of doing that to people. But everything I’ve observed between the two of them points to increasing togetherness rather than a cracking of their marriage bond.

The day of Mary’s surgery (Monday), as four of us said goodbye, she went around the circle giving each of us a strong hug. Coming to Bervin, she passed him by. “I’m saving the best for last,” she said, looking at him. Then after hugging the rest of us, she went back to him and held on tight.

What part does God play in the traumas that come to all married couples? For one thing, he doesn’t waste even one of these experiences. Rough patches in marriage are particularly useful from his point of view, since they tend to polish off our rough edges and make couples look to him for help. At least that’s his hope.

Heading to surgeryGod’s intention is that when trouble comes, wives and husbands will race to put supportive arms around each other, satisfying the other one’s need without concern for their own. By doing so they demonstrate humility, servanthood, and true love, which pleases both their partner and the God who bonded them in marriage. It also primes the pump for a next time, when the one who’s been given the most, eagerly becomes the giver.

Traditional (old-fashioned) wedding vows include this concluding statement: “What God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.” (Mark 10:9) In other words, nothing of human origin should be allowed to pull them apart. When circumstances threaten to do that, even if it’s a disease, God hopes husband and wife will cling instead of crumble, coming out the other side stronger than ever.

That’s exactly what’s happening with Mary and Bervin. Mary’s life will never be the same now that cancer has come, and their marriage won’t be the same either. But that’s ok, because it’s going to be better than ever.

“Love… endures through every circumstance.” (1 Corinthians 13:7)

Mary’s prayer requests:

  1. For a peaceful night after a day of difficulty
  2. For pain meds to work without causing nausea
  3. For thorough healing of Mary’s insides
  4. For stamina to meet physical demands

Slow…. But Sure

We live in a high speed world that demands we accomplish more in less time but get better results. This stands in sharp contrast to the way God works, and as Mary and the rest of us are learning, the way our bodies work, too: healing happens slowly.

Nausea has plagued her worse than the still-raw wounds left by Dr. Truty’s scalpel. It isn’t that the medical staff isn’t working hard to help her get better. Today, for example, Mary was visited by the surgical team of doctors, by multiple floor nurses, a few techs, several volunteers, and an impressive “pain management team” of three. All of them are trying to bring healing to her, listening closely what she says about how she’s feeling.

Nurse call buttonOur problem is we want her complaints fixed “yesterday”. It’s the same thing when Mary needs a nurse and pushes the call button. We expect she’ll come bursting into the room at a fast clip, 15 seconds after the light goes on. But though we sense we’re surrounded by experts, the machinations of a large hospital function painfully slow. The same goes for the healing of a wounded body.

photo(116)Since Monday night when Mary arrived in her hospital room after surgery (flashing a peace sign), several tubes, hoses, and lines connecting her to helpful machinery have been removed. This is tangible evidence improvement is indeed being made. Though her body still hurts, each day brings bits of progress.

And there’s a scriptural parallel to all this slow healing. God frequently uses the human body to picture spiritual truths. For instance, he parallels eye problems with the sin of judging others, and hearing trouble with a refusal to listen to his instruction. He uses the images of left and right hands to describe discreet giving, and compares different body parts to different spiritual gifts. He also labels the church a body, with himself as the head.

Mary’s slowly healing body can also represent something spiritual: God’s slow, gentle teaching to those who want to learn from him. Often he has to instruct us with the same lesson again and again before we get it. Learning takes time.

Occasionally we slip backwards, too, just like Mary’s body does. Her nausea may decrease while pain increases. Or cotton-mouth might improve with a spray, but the spray tastes terrible. And so we keep at it, in Mary’s case pushing the call button for help, and in spiritual matters calling to God for help in our Christian lives.

In both cases progress will come. Slowly, yes, but surely, too.

“Desire without knowledge is not good — how much more will hasty feet miss the way!” (Proverbs 19:2)

Mary’s prayer requests:

  1. For effective pain meds that don’t increase nausea
  2. For better nighttime sleep for Mary, and also Bervin (on a cot in the corner)
  3. Continued gratitude for so many people still praying for her!

 

A Day of Waiting

Prep for major surgery can be a long, sometimes exasperating ordeal. But these days hospitals work hard to make it manageable. For example, in the family waiting area at Mayo Clinic there’s a wide screen TV monitor much like those used in airports to track flights. Each patient receives a “flight number” and can be followed through the maze of stops along their route.

Waiting RoomThe monitor’s color-coding makes it easy to see exactly what’s happening to your loved one. White means she’s still in admitting. Orange is posted when she gets called to the operating room. Yellow is for having entered the OR, green for “go-time” on the procedure, grey for a patient in recovery, and pink for the good news that it’s time to leave the surgical floor.

To sign up for an operation is to sign up for lots of waiting. Tense waiting. Waiting when it’s tempting to let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t.

For instance, today at the beginning of Mary’s surgery we all knew the doctor planned to do a brief laparoscopic look-around before beginning the complicated Whipple procedure. That would include a biopsy of the liver, located next to the pancreas. If other cancer was found, the Whipple would have been aborted, and Mary would have been rolled to recovery.

We’d been sitting in the crowded waiting room about 30 minutes when a nurse came in and said, “Peterson family?”

My heart stopped, thinking the worst had happened. But then she said, “We have her room ready, if you’d like to wait there instead of here.” Whew.

In admittingThis morning as the 5 of us hurried on foot toward the nearby hospital, a whipping wind filled with biting snow didn’t make it easy. Temperatures were in the teens, and it felt good to pass through the revolving doors into the warm lobby of the Mayo Clinic’s St. Mary’s hospital. As always, Mary soldiered through without complaint, despite not being allowed to have a warm breakfast like the rest of us.

The long day was dotted with waiting periods. Since the surgical schedule experienced one delay after another, Mary’s procedure started 6 hours later than originally planned. More waiting. But when the surgeon finally appeared with a report on how everything went, he was smiling. “It went beautifully,” he said, “and she did great.”

Dr. TrutyAlthough pathology won’t be complete until Wednesday, Dr. Truty (right) talked of “clean margins” and said he had been able to keep the stomach intact, including the pyloric valve that attaches to the intestines. As with all Whipples, he took out the gall bladder, part of the intestine, the tumor, and the head of the pancreas. He said he was extremely pleased with the results.

When the waiting was over and Mary was finally wheeled into her room at 11:00 pm, we were probably far more excited to see her than she was to see us. Worn out but without pain, enjoying her “happy drugs” and cooperating nicely with the staff, her first words to us were, “Go home and go to bed.” On her nightstand were her Scripture cards, her Bible, and a photo of her with Bervin and their 9 grandchildren.

Nine grandsOne of them, 6 year old Beck (front, 2nd from right), had talked to Mary on the phone this morning. Whenever he says goodbye he always says, “I love you to the moon and back!” But this morning he said, “Grandma, I love you all the way to Pluto and back!”

And that BIG love goes for all of us…..

“The desire accomplished is sweet to the soul.” (Proverbs 13:19)

Our prayer requests for Mary:

  1. Praise for a safe surgery performed by a skilled surgical team, for negative margins, and a negative liver biopsy
  2. Pray for a good night’s rest
  3. Praise for excellent caregivers at Mayo Clinic
  4. Praise for the commitment and vision of the Franciscan Sisters and physicians who make this a place of healing