Alphabet Soup

Today, here at Mayo Clinic, was alphabet soup day for my hubby: EEG, EMG, MRI, etc. I wonder if there is a correlation between which letters are used with the amount of the bill. It filled the day leaving no time for any spare activities. Bob has wanted to go fishing or geocaching, but that is not in the stars at this time. Instead, he got to imitate a chubby pincushion in his EMG. He does not feel neglected.

The technicians stopped on some of the evaluations to call the lead doctor. I doubt they were checking on the doc’s evening activities, and it’s about three weeks until we hear about any of the results. It’s one of those things where we want them to find something to explain Bob’s pain but nothing too severe. Note: I am not Bob’s only pain!

Tomorrow Bob gets to go get his hands slapped as they review his medications and urge him to take the non-narcotic path to a long life of chronic pain. That will surely boost his mood. It will be reunion day for me at St. Mary’s Pain Clinic. That’s where I stayed for three weeks not that long ago. He also has the full gambit of psychological and cognitive testings lasting the whole afternoon. They say to even bring snacks since the exams are lengthy. I don’t think they had in mind a suitcase of yummies, but they never listed any specifics and Bob likes to be prepared. I hate those tests where you have to reach a ceiling – a specific number of consecutive errors. No matter how you do on the test, you just remember ending with a bunch of wrong answers. Scores from earlier tests he took back home will be used for comparison purposes. Psychologists will ask him all sorts of fun things like reciting the pledge backwards after stating the prime numbers larger than 3,000 while doing cartwheels around the room. OK, I might have slightly exaggerated on the last one, but you get the main idea.

I forgot some of the beauty I am able to see while I wait for Bob during his testings. It sends shivers up my arms straight to my heart as I notice couples holding hands while waiting for other doctor appointment or a solemn senior quietly kissing her husband while she strains pushes his wheelchair down the hall. Moms bounce babies with silent tears streaming down their cheeks. Teenagers pace around the chairs pretending they are too cool to worry but never take their eyes from their devoted parents just across the room.

Love echoes through the halls and provides the stamina needed for the nine million tests ordered each day. If you strain your ears in a quiet corner, you can hear all those prayers heading straight to God. Life is good.

God Uses Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good

        -  You see those herculean bonds of love supporting those with chronic pain.