Every Sunday afternoon, I go to the cabinet that houses all my medicine and gather the plethora of bottles and place them on my kitchen counter. Then I open my pill boxes and begin to fill them with the various medications that I need to take each day. And there's never a Sunday as I go through that routine that I don't think about my mom ... sitting at her kitchen table on Sunday evenings filling her pill boxes. Many of those evenings, I sat with Mom and listened as she talked, smiled as she laughed, felt the pain of watching her grow older and more frail with each passing year. But I never really appreciated the significance and importance of her weekly filling of her pill boxes until I had to start the process myself. Almost overnight, I went from taking one multivitamin each day to needing pill boxes to help me organize and remember the multitude of pills that I now have to swallow each day.
Each time my doctors change my medication amounts or add in new drugs, I usually have side effects. Funny, I don't remember Mom ever talking about side effects from her medicine; perhaps she was among the fortunate folks who don't experience any issues from their medications. I, however, don't fall into that category and have come to dread any changes in my medication regimen. As a general rule, the side effects don't last longer than a couple of weeks ... thank goodness. Having a round-the-clock upset stomach or aching muscles or a headache that is relentless ... suffice it to say those are just not fun times for me. While most of the side effects dissipate relatively quickly, there is one ... one quite annoying and embarrassing one ... that has never gone away, and according to my doctors, it probably never will.
In the truest spirit of honoring all of you who have written or told me personally how much you value the openness and honesty of these blogs, this one's for you. My lingering side effect? My armpits itch ... and I'm not talking just a little itch once in a while, friends ... I'm talking my armpits itch all the stinking time. I've discovered something about itchy pits over the last year or so ... there is no graceful way to scratch an itchy armpit. You can try, but you end up looking like a monkey, and people wonder why in the world you're swinging your arms back and forth at such an odd angle. Trust me on this one, there's no graceful way to scratch an itchy armpit.
I'm certain that some of you are scratching your heads right about now (which is so much easier than scratching your armpits, I might add) and wondering why in the world I'm writing about this in a blog. But those of you who are faithful readers know that there's generally a reason behind what at times seems like utter madness on my part. Remember Paul? Yep, that Paul ... from the Bible ... the Paul who repeatedly asked God to remove his "thorn in the flesh," and yet as far as we know, God never took that thorn away from Paul. He had to learn to live with whatever it was, and to trust that God had value and teaching in allowing that thorn to remain.
I've lost count of how many times I've prayed that God would make my armpits stop itching ... and yet, they still itch. All the time. And believe me, I can't even begin to imagine or understand what it is that God wants to teach me from my itchy pits. I do know, however, and I do understand that God is still God. God is still God whether my armpits itch or don't itch. In good times, God is still God. In difficult times, God is still God. Should I live to be 100, God is still God. Should I draw my final breath before I finish this day, God is still God.
He always was ... He always is ... and He always will be God. No matter what. God is still God.
No comments:
Post a Comment