Right off the bat tonight, let me say to those of you who are clucking your tongues and shaking your heads at me because there's a four-letter word in the title of my post this evening ... if that's all it takes for you to get your panties in a knot and be mad at me, then you probably shouldn't be reading my blog anyway. I don't mean to sound harsh ... and I sure hope you'll keep reading along with me ... but really ... sometimes I wonder why the people who get so worked up about some of my subject matter keep reading. Maybe there's some blog enforcer guy or gal I don't know about who's forcing those folks to read my posts. Or maybe some people simply like to look for something to complain about. I tend to think it's the latter of those two, and honestly, that makes me sad. So before you go all Dirty Harry on me and reach for your guns, allow me to suggest that you read the rest of tonight's post first and then if you still feel the need to shoot ... well ... in the words of the great Harry himself ... "Go ahead, make my day."
Some of you may recall a post I penned back in January titled "The Bump" in which I talked about a bump that had appeared on my left index finger that was painful enough to cause me to ask my doctor about it. If you didn't catch that post and you'd like to get the details of the bump and my subsequent visit to the doctor, you can read it by clicking here. Turns out my achy finger bump is a bone spur accompanied by a ganglion cyst ... what a disgusting word, by the way, "ganglion" ... that's one of those words that makes me want to throw up even just typing it. I spent an hour and a half on Tuesday morning listening to a hand surgeon explain to me that neither the spur nor the cyst would go away on their own. No matter how many times I asked him if there was any way they might just disappear, he kept saying, "No," accompanied by the following words ... "They will just grow bigger and become more painful over time." Certainly not the answer I kept hoping for, I can assure you.
As the doctor explained what he would do to remove the conjoined pair of despicable finger invaders, my stomach got queasy and I broke out in a cold sweat. I'll spare you the details of the "procedure," but I'll be given a local anesthetic and be awake while a man I've only met once carves away at my appendage. I'll have five to seven stitches and have to wear a finger splint for three weeks ... should I actually choose to have the surgery. Yep, I have a choice as to whether or not I have the surgery ... I can have it now, or I can have it later. Quite frankly, I don't like either choice not even one little bit ... nope, nope, nope I surely don't. As I drove to work following my appointment, I found myself wondering how I would button my shirt or pants, how I would take a shower and gel my hair, how I would put my earrings in, or how I would type. By the time I got to work, I had convinced myself that I will be rendered completely helpless if I have to wear a finger splint for three weeks ... completely and totally helpless.
I've written countless times about the fact that I often have to be presented with a lesson over and over again before I finally get just what it is I'm supposed to learn. Today I was emailing with a friend and in the course of our conversation, I mentioned how thankful I am for her friendship and for her being willing to walk the journey with me. It's probably not a coincidence that I bumped my finger just as I opened her email and began to read ... I'm not sure whether the tears that filled my eyes were from the pain in my finger or the touching truth within her words.
"It is a journey. And for those who think the bumps in the road are too much, they haven’t figured out that that IS the journey. The bumps make it more fun (and hard, and challenging, and exciting, and rewarding). Damn those bumps."
A little over an hour later I was in a meeting and a guy said, "There will be bumps in the road ... you can be sure of that." I know ... I've got goosebumps, too ... jeez ... gooseBUMPS ... I get it ... I get it already ... I get it. I've been mulling over the words in my friend's email ever since I read them this afternoon, and I've realized tonight that I've been looking at the bumps in the road (or on my finger, as the case may be) the wrong way. I understand how right my friend is ... it's the bumps in the road that make life life. It's the bumps in the road that challenge me ... it's getting over or around those bumps that gives me courage, builds my strength and provides me with the deepest fulfillment. It's the bumps in the road that make me a better person ... it's the bumps in the road that make me.
Damn those bumps, friends ... damn those bumps indeed.
Some of you may recall a post I penned back in January titled "The Bump" in which I talked about a bump that had appeared on my left index finger that was painful enough to cause me to ask my doctor about it. If you didn't catch that post and you'd like to get the details of the bump and my subsequent visit to the doctor, you can read it by clicking here. Turns out my achy finger bump is a bone spur accompanied by a ganglion cyst ... what a disgusting word, by the way, "ganglion" ... that's one of those words that makes me want to throw up even just typing it. I spent an hour and a half on Tuesday morning listening to a hand surgeon explain to me that neither the spur nor the cyst would go away on their own. No matter how many times I asked him if there was any way they might just disappear, he kept saying, "No," accompanied by the following words ... "They will just grow bigger and become more painful over time." Certainly not the answer I kept hoping for, I can assure you.
As the doctor explained what he would do to remove the conjoined pair of despicable finger invaders, my stomach got queasy and I broke out in a cold sweat. I'll spare you the details of the "procedure," but I'll be given a local anesthetic and be awake while a man I've only met once carves away at my appendage. I'll have five to seven stitches and have to wear a finger splint for three weeks ... should I actually choose to have the surgery. Yep, I have a choice as to whether or not I have the surgery ... I can have it now, or I can have it later. Quite frankly, I don't like either choice not even one little bit ... nope, nope, nope I surely don't. As I drove to work following my appointment, I found myself wondering how I would button my shirt or pants, how I would take a shower and gel my hair, how I would put my earrings in, or how I would type. By the time I got to work, I had convinced myself that I will be rendered completely helpless if I have to wear a finger splint for three weeks ... completely and totally helpless.
I've written countless times about the fact that I often have to be presented with a lesson over and over again before I finally get just what it is I'm supposed to learn. Today I was emailing with a friend and in the course of our conversation, I mentioned how thankful I am for her friendship and for her being willing to walk the journey with me. It's probably not a coincidence that I bumped my finger just as I opened her email and began to read ... I'm not sure whether the tears that filled my eyes were from the pain in my finger or the touching truth within her words.
"It is a journey. And for those who think the bumps in the road are too much, they haven’t figured out that that IS the journey. The bumps make it more fun (and hard, and challenging, and exciting, and rewarding). Damn those bumps."
A little over an hour later I was in a meeting and a guy said, "There will be bumps in the road ... you can be sure of that." I know ... I've got goosebumps, too ... jeez ... gooseBUMPS ... I get it ... I get it already ... I get it. I've been mulling over the words in my friend's email ever since I read them this afternoon, and I've realized tonight that I've been looking at the bumps in the road (or on my finger, as the case may be) the wrong way. I understand how right my friend is ... it's the bumps in the road that make life life. It's the bumps in the road that challenge me ... it's getting over or around those bumps that gives me courage, builds my strength and provides me with the deepest fulfillment. It's the bumps in the road that make me a better person ... it's the bumps in the road that make me.
Damn those bumps, friends ... damn those bumps indeed.
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