Amputation

Amputated.

Severed.

Cut off.

Well, perhaps not cut off literally, but cut off figuratively. Unexpectedly and suddenly terminated. Like most traumatic accidents, I was unprepared and caught off-guard. I wasn't happy about the loss either -- to put it mildy!

Last week my longsuffering, elderly Macbook computer shut down - and never woke up. A permanent siesta of sorts.

I went through the typical stages of grief that are defined by Kubler-Ross:

At first, disbelief. "What?! This must be a fluke. Surely my computer will reboot. I just need to try it again and give it more time. It's not really broken, just acting out..."

Then anger. "Why God?! Why now? What I have done to deserve this? If you're trying to teach me a lesson from this loss, please teach it another time. I don't want a lesson in patience and endurance without complaint now. No, no, no!"

Third, bargaining. "Please, please, please, God! Just make my computer turn on this once. I need it. You know I need it for work, for staying in touch with my husband and friends, for my sanity. Please make it reboot. Please let me know what you want of me and I'll do it. Just let my laptop get past its grey screen of death."

Fourth. Despair. *sob* "Why?! Why oh why? It's not fair, God. You take away my husband. You take away my health (I had a stomach flu and mild case of malaria at the time) and now you take away my only means of communication with the outside world. I'm going to suffer in loneliness. I don't want to by like Job of the Bible." (At this point, my attitude was more along the lines of Job's wife, 'curse God and die', than anything).

Finally, Acceptance. "C'est la vie. What will be, will be. Everything will sort itself out in the end. I'll survive. Somehow I will manage."

Tumultuous thoughts such as these tossed around wildly in my mind. Back and forth. Just when I might think I had come to a full acceptance of my loss, another situation would present itself and I'd realise afresh how much I missed using my laptop.

How does one know when they've truly given their problem over to God and "let go". As the verse in 1 Peter 3:5 says, "cast all your cares upon Him for he cares for you." This sounds good in theory.
Or how about the popular saying, 'let go and let God'? When can one know they've actually truly and meaningfully 'let go'? Sometimes I think there is a rather extended period of give and take. Letting go and then grasping back at our problems - not quite sure we can fully trust God to handle the problem just yet. It is a process.

During this period of angst, I attempted every means possible to resurrect my Macbook and trick it into rebooting. At the local public internet cafe, I searched and found a blog about what to do when 'good Macs go bad'. I added some new terminology to the linguistic  centre of my brain. Terms like 'safe mode', 'verify disk and repair disk', NVRAM, along with a whole lineage of Mac feline operating systems: Mountain Lion, Leopard, Snow Leopard, Lion.. A regular jungle of Mac cats! Did  you know, there is even a computer code can typed, 'fsck-fy' -- it seemed rather appropriate at the time.

In spite of my best efforts at reanimation, my computer stubbornly remained in suspended animation - a persistent vegetative state - not quite alive but not dead either. "Mostly dead," as they say in the film, Princess Bride.

But mostly dead is for my intents and purposes, dead. My 'technological right arm', my 'second brain' is gone. A traumatic amputation.

My primary means of international communication is gone. My data bank of work files is locked away. My encyclopedia for looking up medical questions is frozen. My television screen for watching shows is finished. My library for reading books is closed...

I am sure you get my gist. It was a major operation. A significant disruption to my normal daily routine of life. It wasn't pretty.

The Bible says that if your 'hand causes you to sin; cut it off.' I am not going to say that my computer was causing me to sin although the thought did cross my mind somewhere within my Kubler-Ross grief striken state. I am still searching for meaning behind the whole fiasco though. My humanity is seeking to find a reason why. Perhaps that is human nature? I cope with loss by trying to find a reason behind it. I'm not looking for a silver lining but I find that seeking to find a reason is somehow comforting, perhaps. Loss without a reason or a purpose seems so much harder to accept, oddly.

Maybe one day I will look back and discover a reason. For now, I can only hope that the searching will lead to something positive. I wish my computer would start working again but I believe I have reached the point of a more steady acceptance. I don't identify with Job's wife anymore. I may not have the patience of Job yet but I feel more comfortable saying, 'the Lord gives and the Lord takes away; blessed be the name of the Lord'.

I think about how intimately connected I was with my computer. Consider all the vital funtions it had in my day to day life. I used it multiple times a day. I connected with it for knowledge, entertainment, relationships, communcations, problem-solving, even just to tell the time of day sometimes. I logged onto my computer to read the news at least once, usually many times, in a day. My computer really was like an extra data storage memory bank. My 'second brain'. My life doesn't feel complete without my computer.

Today I read John 15. In that chapter, Jesus speaks about connecting to himself, the true Vine. "Remain united to Me and I will remain united to you. A branch cannot bear fruit by itself; it can do so only if it remains in the vine. In the same way, you cannot bear fruit unless you remain in Me." John 15:4

Perhaps instead of a vine, one could use the modern analogy of Jesus being the master computer. Like my computer used to be my access point to the world wide web, Jesus is my access point to all knowledge, heaven and His Holy Spirit. Jesus is my life. He should be such an integral part of my day to day life that I will go through withdrawal and grief, just like I did with my Macbook, if I am unable to connect and boot up with Him.

"Without Me [Christ] you can do nothing." John 15:5

I cannot function as smoothly without my Macbook. Life is inconvenient having to borrow another person's computer or use a public computer at the outside internet cafe. Life is inconvenient but not impossible. But, without my connection to Jesus, life is more than inconvenient; it's impossible.

"I have told you this so that My joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete." John 15:11

'Unite to Me' -- connect to Christ. He is life. And, in that life, our joy can be complete.

I wonder if there is a Macbook heaven?

A Fitting Diagnosis

(Names and details changed for privacy)

“Doc, will you see this man tomorrow?” Nurse Kay gave me a very beseeching smile. “Please.”

“You know I normally avoid non-emergency consultation on Saturday, Kay,” I replied, unconvinced.

“But doctor, he was really disturbing me when you had to go out,” Nurse Kay grimaced as she shook her braids at the memory. “I thought he was going to bite my head off.” Her gesture conveyed a genuine sense of pain regarding the recent encounter.

“Really?”

“Yes, doctor,” she added in earnest. “I really had to talk to him a lot to get him to calm down. I promised him that you would see him tomorrow at eight o’clock.”

I realised this Friday had taken its toll on everyone’s patience, including my own. Complications and emergencies in the hospital ward, unplanned procedures, a funeral to pay homage to a fallen colleague in the medical field – the day had been a blur of activity. The frustrated, impatient frowns from the outpatient clients in the waiting room had not escaped my notice earlier.

Sensing my weakening resolve, Nurse Kay pressed home her supplication. “Please, doctor, I told him to be here promptly at eight o’clock.”

“You know I have church on Saturday, though.”

“ I told him that. He said he would be here at eight. I told him if he came late you would be gone to church.”

Nurse Kay knew she’d won her case. I sighed. “I already took the history and everything for you, doc.” She smiled with a triumphant grin and handed me the patient’s book.

I opened the green paperback notebook and peeked at the chief complaint.  I wondered what dire emergency had made this man angry when he wasn’t attended to in the clinic so promptly. I hoped that if he was seriously sick he would have consented to admission after a brief consult with our competent nursing staff. Thankfully, his vital signs were normal. He was 32 years old, I noticed. I shook my head. It usually takes a lot for an otherwise healthy adult male to see a doctor.

The next morning, Saturday, I walked over to the hospital to check on the inpatients. As expected, anytime I am in the hospital, other clients find me and I found myself completely occupied until 9:30 am. I forgot that I hadn’t even seen the mysterious impatient patient from Friday. By the time I remembered, I was already in church. I had certainly given him ample time to make it to his special appointment by 8 am. I had been around until 9:30. Perhaps he’d gone on to another hospital given the urgency of his demands?

Monday came round. Mondays have a bad habit of appearing every seven days, it seems…. Anyway, the client numbers in the outpatient clinic were above 30, so, much to half the folk’s dismay, some waited quite a while to see the doctor. At the end of the day, I noticed a familiar green medical booklet in my shelf.

“I called his name several times today,” I explained to Nurse Kay. “What happened?”

“He left, doc,” Nurse Kay shrugged. “He said he couldn’t wait.”

“He was only the second patient in line to be seen today though,” I countered. “Besides, I waited for him in the hospital on Saturday and he never showed.”

Sigh.

Tuesday came. I was hurrying to open up the clinic and get morning worship going. Several clients milled around the front door, waiting for our outpatient services to get started for the day.

“Doctor, I want to see you,” a young gentleman pressed forward as I stepped up on the porch to unlock the door.

“No problem,” I gave my automatic reply. “I will see you after we have our morning staff worship. You are welcome to join us.”

“But, doctor, I’ve been waiting. I want to see you now.”

I tried to take a step back as this gentleman was rather cramming into my personal space. (I’m not one to need a huge bubble either). I held up my hand in an attempt to keep us from bumping noses. “After worship, I will start my consults.” He was clearly not dying or in any visible pain. There was nothing externally wrong with him that gave any indication he needed to be seen more urgently in the hospital and be admitted.

“But, doctor, I’ve already paid to see you.”

“And I will see you – after worship,” I re-stated firmly. I gathered up the worship hymnals and passed them out. “Here, have a book,” I indicated a place on the bench for him to sit while I held out a book of hymns. The other staff and patients were thumbing through the pages, searching for a familiar melody. Assessing the situation, he grudgingly settled down.

~o~

“Mr. Johnson,” I looked at the now recognizable green book and name. So, he was back – again.

“Coming,” a familiar gentleman rose from the waiting room bench, pocketing his mobile phone. The gears clicked. The less-than-patient gentleman of the morning was none other than the mysterious missing patient from Friday. Interesting.

I sat down at my consult table and read over Nurse Kay’s detailed history of his main reason for consulting. Mr Johnson settled in the chair opposite.

“Doctor, I’m tired,” he frowned and turned his palms upward with a dramatic sigh. “I have a lot of responsibilities. I can’t wait.”

“Ashia,” I let him continue.

“Thank you, doctor,” he automatically replied. “Doctor, I came here on Friday and you were not. They told me you were at a funeral.”

I nodded in confirmation.

“I couldn’t wait until you came back.”

“I looked for you on Saturday,” I replied. “I waited for you until I went to church.”

“I came, doc, and you were not,” he insisted.

“Didn’t the nurse tell you to come at 8 am?”

“Yes, but doctor, you were not.”

“I waited for you until I went to church at 9:30 am.”

“But, doc, I came.”

“You came after I’d already left for church.”

He conceded the fact with a nod. “But, doc, when I came you were not.”

“I was at church.” Since church is generally considered a legitimate reason to abscond from the hospital, I knew Mr Johnson had little recourse to argue now. As I expected, my pronouncement silenced his complaints for a few moments.

“I’m here now,” I attempted to clear away the past and re-focus our meeting on the present. I gave him my full attention. “Now tell me about your problem. What brought you here to consult?”

Mr Johnson gathered his thoughts for a few moments and let them sort. He took a breath and released it slowly. Then he began. “Doctor, my girlfriend,” he paused, “my girlfriend’s not happy. When we make love my stamina is not too strong. I weaken too fast.”

“You mean that when you have an erection, you climax too quickly?” I clarified.

He nodded.

Diagnosis: Premature Ejaculation

Rather fitting, given the circumstances?

 ~o~

“We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they are good for us—they help us learn to be patient. And patience develops strength of character in us and helps us trust God more each time we use it until finally our hope and faith are strong and steady.”

Romans 5:3,4