So here I am one day before I go
under and let a doctor poke around my heart.
Funny how I don’t really think of it much more than going to the dentist
really. Actually I don’t think it is much
different than what I do. Go in, look
for damage. Check for extension and clean it up. Ok maybe a little different. After all, I
have always said the F.D. doesn’t stand for fire department, it stands for free
destruction. I hope the doctor has a
little different technique than I do.
I have to admit my biggest struggle with all of this is admitting what
happened. Logically, I know chest pain
is caused from a lack of oxygen secondary to a lack of blood flow. My imagination still says it couldn’t,
didn’t, happen. I still want to sort out
in my head how it could have been muscular, or maybe I should have had more
water during the day, that would have kept me from being dehydrated and causing
that “feeling” in my chest.
To really name it and call it chest pain says that I had a heart attack,
though I can assure you that didn’t happen, right? After all I’m only 49. To admit I had a heart attack is to admit I
am weak. Each time I shared what
happened, it pained me to admit it.
A couple times I even said out loud that I was broken. I have this image of Scar from Lion King in
my head. I don’t remember the exact
exchange, however I do recall when he is downplaying something he has done and
in a very regretful tone, Scar laments being born in the shallow end of the
gene pool.
That’s where my head goes. I
wonder, have I been born in the shallow end?
Am I too weak and broken? I often
joke with guys when any of us get hurt about being weak stock, and we all
laugh. I’m not laughing now though,
after all I’m a fireman, I am invincible.
I am not like Scar from the shallow end, I am Clint Eastwood, always on
top, indestructible, always winning in the end. (Except of course for Gran
Torino where he dies in the end.)
I know that my other big struggle that I know is ahead of me is humility. You see, I have always been the go to guy—If
it’s broke I fix it, whatever it may be.
Not only can I not help others right now, but I also need to admit I
need help. Even further, I need to stop and allow others around me to help me.
The fact is that most of my struggles with this event, from its
inception to the surgery, to recovery, is all a pride issue. Proverbs tells us that, with pride comes
disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom.
I need to understand and admit that while the Lord made me in his image
I am also human. I love the quote from
Terentius. (159 BC, an old dead guy) “I am human, I consider nothing human
alien to me.”
You see the fact is that while I want to be indestructible like Clint
Eastwood, I am actually more like Scar in that I am merely a human. I am broken
from the start and can only find fullness in my faith, in striving to be like
Christ even if I act or try to often to be like Clint. I would just ask the Lord to not have me like
Clint in Gran Torino.
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