I’m been having one of those weeks where I sense God is more concerned with my patience than my balance.
There is good news. After nearly aceing the Burg Balance test a week ago, my score climbed from an initial 17/56 six weeks ago to a 55/56 last week. I graduated to the next level – the Functional Gate Assessment, where I scored a 28 out of 30. That’s great news, though it led my physical therapist to introduce a whole new set of balance challenges, turning my therapy sessions into something akin to the NFL combines. Suffice it to say, I will not be mastering the new drills anytime soon.
The challenges came in two other forms: my new glasses and my voice.
- The glasses: Both eyes see well and have full motion but they are not cooperating with each other, which leaves me seeing double or something like it. It’s not fun. Neither are the glases. Those of you who made the transition to bi-focals (or progressives) know that they take a while to adjust to. Well, my prism glasses are about ten times more challenging. I was told by the neuro-optomistrist and my occupational therapist that the glasses would be hard to get used to. They were not lying. I can wear them for about five minutes at a time.
- My voice: Twice in the last week I’ve seen an Otolaryngologists – that is, a doctor whose specializes in the vocal chords (or vocal folds, as those in the know seem to call them.) His brochure says that he specializes in helping “professional voice-users,” which I guess includes me. He’s a nice guy and clearly knows a million times more about vocal folds than I do, but the visits include him sticking a camera down my throat which violates several articles of the Geneva Convention. (Sheri ran out of the room when he pulled it out the first time). I’ve known for some time that my left vocal fold was paralyzed by the stroke and that it may or may not “turn back on.” I’ve also known that I’ve been left with an anemic cough. What I didn’t appreciate is how important a good cough is, and how sore (and swollen) my throat could get if I coughed really hard with a really weak cough…especially when you pick up a common cold as I did this week. I’ve been silent for the last 24 hours in order to bring as much voice to preaching this weekend as possible. Pray that I can talk clearly and audibly this weekend, and pray for the left vocal fold to turn back on.
Finally, one last – and somewhat random – thought. At dinner last night, with friends who’ve been navigating their own set of challenges, I picked up a memorable line. At each turn of their crisis they reminded each other, “remember, the children are watching.”
We will all get knocked down. The question is, how do we respond, and what does our response teach those who are looking on, especially our own children.
Press On,
Mike