Sometimes We Don't Want Logic, We Want Compassion

I recently had a follow-up appointment with my dermatologist about my "not, not cancer" spot on my arm.  When I had the procedure done, she told me that I would have a scar, but that the way she was going to sew it was going to leave a fairly minimal scar, one that she could even do some minor abrasion therapy to later on to render the scar virtually unnoticeable.

On the day I left my surgical appointment, I left with the idea that I would remove my bandage, see a minimal scar and a few months later at my follow up appointment, I'd go in and she'd do her magic on whatever was left.

That is categorically NOT what happened.

First off, when I removed my bandage I had a hideously red and very bumpy scar.  It actually looked like someone had sewn an angry, red, fuzzy caterpillar to my arm.  There was nothing minimal about that scar.  So, I called the doctor's office and got what is probably a very commonly relayed "Calm Down" speech.  I was assured that within 6-8 weeks I would be fine, my scar would be fine, the world would not end, and I could someday wear sleeveless shirts again.

Fast forward 6-8 weeks and that is categorically NOT what happened.  My scar was less red, but other than that, pretty much the same.  I decided not to panic this time and gave myself a pep talk.  (Not the Kid President kind of pep talk, but more like the "don't be ridiculous Carol, it's a scar, not an amputation, geesh!" kind of pep talk.)  I also decided not to call the doctor and get another lecture about calming down.

But every time someone would see my scar (I'm not even kidding here people!) they would say something like, "oh my" or they would suck their breath in sharply.  Clearly, a surprisingly ugly scar.

So, when I went in for my appointment, I was ready to take that dermatologist to task over that scar.  It wasn't at all what she told me I was going to get.  It was far, far worse.

I feel the need to tell you that my dermatologist is an incredibly sweet person.  Very soft-spoken.  Very sensitive in her bedside manner.  So when she said to me, "Mrs. Jones.  You're being superficial about this.  You have a small scar.  It's significantly better than death by cancer, which is what you could have experienced had we done nothing," I was somewhat taken back.

And I cried.  I mean like a baby, snotting, sobbing cried.  (So embarrassing.  I am an ugly crier, so there I sat with a red-splotched face and a hideous scar on my arm).  Ugly from head to . . . well . . . elbow.

I said, "I know you're right.  Of course you're right.  My logical mind can tell me you're right.  And then there's my illogical mind that just wants to be pretty."

All that to say, perspective is important.  Of course I understand I'd rather have a scar than cancer.  But sometimes hearing what you already know is still just hard to hear.  Sometimes, we just want a little compassion.  Sometimes, we just want someone to tell us it's all going to be okay.

Day 47: Crisis

When I think of the word, crisis, I tend to think of things of a global scale.  The hunger crisis.  An earthquake.  A flood. 

Or I think of personal tragedy.  The death of a child.  A terrible car accident.  Divorce.

Rarely do I think of small, seemingly insignificant events, that in the heat of the moment seem large, but in hindsight seem tiny and trivial.

For most of us, if we are lucky, we are never going to experience global crisis, or even incredibly serious personal tragedy.

So the crisis we know IS the day to day, seemingly insignificant trivial events.

But I would guess that strung together, it is the day to day crises that takes its toll on a family, a friendship, a marriage, a relationship.  They elevate our heart rate, our blood pressure, our cortisol levels, our adrenaline and our survival instincts.  Strung together, these small daily crises can become epic in our lives.

Enjoying the moments that are filled with laughter, therefore,  becomes all the more important. 

Cherishing the small victories,

laughing at our own mistakes and the mistakes of others,

and letting go of the stress of the crisis of the moment becomes critical.

All that to say, a rich, peaceful, abundant life will be filled with daily crisis.  It's what we do during the crisis and beyond that determines how epic the impact will be.  I find a big deep breath and the ability to laugh at myself keeps things small and in perspective. Usually. :)  And when that doesn't work, wine and chocolate help.

I Needed That

Last night I went to a Mexican restaurant with a friend of mine. It was kind of impromptu. I lead a young women's group on Tuesday nights, and normally grab a junky fast food dinner, so I thought since I had the time, I'd go sit down and eat something a little healthier. (Relax, I had chicken fajitas and I hardly ate any chips. Besides, today is my "weigh day" so I sure wasn't gonna scarf down a ton of mexican food the day before) . . . anyway.

So, my friend and I are sitting there. She is having a beer and I am having a margarita. To some of you that might seem weird, a Children's Pastor drinking a margarita, but we aren't legalistic about alcohol at my church, so I didn't feel at all weird about sitting in a mexican restaurant drinking a margarita. However, I do try to be sensitive to who might be in a restaurant if I choose to drink, because, well, it's too long to explain so just trust me that I try to be sensitive.

I see this big group of women come in with gift bags and babies and a few little children and literally they sit them down right next to our table. So, I keep looking over at the table to see if I know any of these people or their children and if I am likely to offend any of them. I apologized to my friend who was with me for being so distracted. She asked me if I was worried because I was having a drink, and I said, "No. Not at all. "

She said, "Good. You shouldn't be. It's not like you are getting drunk and doing a table dance." (nice) :) But as she is saying that she holds her arm up in the air and winds it around in the air (picture a cowboy on a bull, with his arm up in the air . . . that's the picture). Right as she said "table dance" and moved her arm around, the waiter walks by, sees her and says excitedly, "All right!"

I laughed hysterically. She slunk down (is that a word?), covered her face, and tried not to die from embarrassment, meanwhile laughing along with me.

All that to say, laughter is a good diversion. It's good for the soul. That's why we are supposed to eat, drink and be merry.