Bones, Breaks & Healing

We have hit the three-month milestone since Scott’s back surgery. To recap, he fell ten feet from our roof to the concrete while cleaning the gutters. He broke two vertebrae necessitating an urgent surgery followed by a ten-day stay in the hospital.   We anticipate that the doctor will soon “release” him to “bend, life and twist” or BLT as they said. I joked that when this happens I am going to throw a bunch of stuff on the floor and watch him pick it up!

The most recent imaging of Scott’s back indicate that the rods and screws put in to stabilize his spine have done their job; Allowing the bones and ligaments to heal without threat of injury to his spine. The experiential evidence also shows us that the healing is happening as each week there is less pain and his tolerance of car rides and other activities slowly builds. Yet as the physical trauma abates, it has become more evident that the bone healing is just one aspect of recovery. The emotional injury if you will caused by the experience also demands healing may not progress as predictably as his body. The replaying of the fall in his mind, the memories of vulnerability, the experience of a “close call” that brings your own mortality and the fragility of life to your consciousness – these are all of the side effects of that physical event. These types of breaks if you will, catch us  by surprise, do not have a “standard of care,” and clearly have a healing demand and timeline of their own.

Our son Grady is also grappling with some emotional injuries because of the fall. If we could take a picture of the after effects that Scott’s accident had on Grady, it would show a mind swollen with worry, old fears resurfacing and new ones appearing. It would also show the sadness that comes from understanding for the first time in your development that bad things happen that are out of your control and that people you love, people who take care of you, are vulnerable.

Then there is me. In moments of reflection, I am aware of the “soft spots” that I feel from this injury: The first soft spot for me is in remembering the events immediately after the fall, when the paramedics were tending to Scott. I had to go into the house to finally rinse the soap out of my hair from my interrupted shower and throw some clothes on to go to the hospital. Grady appeared in the bathroom and broke down in sobs. I embraced him and assured him that his daddy was going to be ok, but that he did need to go to the hospital. What Grady needed in that moment was so much more than I could give him-time and comfort in particular. I had to hurry the moment along to get on my way to the hospital. His sobs, his fear, having to leave him abruptly in the care of loving neighbors, was a necessary, but broken moment for me. Likewise, each time I had to leave Scott at the hospital during that ten-day ordeal I would feel a wave of pain and fear when I drove out of the parking garage. Similar to leaving Grady in his moment of great need of me, it was the pain of helplessness leaving Scott there in his vulnerability.

Last year when Grady broke his leg in a baseball collision, we experienced this same physical and emotional injury and healing process-though not nearly as visceral as this one. Each visit to the orthopedic over a three-month period included an x ray of his leg, chronicling the amazing healing capabilities of the body. Each x-ray showing a fainter “fault” line where the break had occurred and etches of new bone forming in and around the break-amazing. Yet similarly, as the cast came off and assurances were given of the strength, in fact, extra strength, of the healed leg, the fear of pain and memory of vulnerability became the necessary focus of Grady’s healing.

It is these recent experiences, coupled with my own history, and the many stories of brokenness and pain in the news of late that have me thinking a lot about the nature of emotional healing and the ways in which we are all interconnected in our brokenness and in our recovery.

One of my favorite movie quotes comes from the movie “Spitfire Grill”. The quote spoken by the lead character goes like this: “Do you suppose there are wounds which go so deep the healing of them hurts as much as the wounding?” I certainly cannot speak for others but in my life this has rung true. Perhaps this intensifying of pain during healing happens in part because our amazing bodies and resilient souls give us protective rush of adrenaline and a thick coat of denial to endure, to survive, physical and emotional pain. As we engage in a healing journey, the denial wears thin and the pain throbs. Facing the truth of the original injury without those protections can feel unbearable and most of us can only endure that in small bits and pieces.

Much like a flesh wound that heals from the inside out, layer by layer, emotional healing often happens as we are ready to face another aspect of our wounding and/or as a healing presence or opportunity presents itself. Our emotional wounds need the light of truth telling, of being seen, receiving empathy.   This process can also feel tenuous, as the vulnerability necessary for healing to take place increases the risk for re-injury. A story in the news, a memory, a book or movie, an insensitive comment (intentional or otherwise) or some other triggering experience can easily re-open a tender spot.

Long ago, I expressed to someone in my life; “I don’t think there will ever come a time when this will hurt less, when my pain and shame won’t consume me.”

The wise counsel present to me at that time offered this analogy:

“Think of your life as a beautiful stained glass window being formed with each passing year. Each Payne of colorful glass represents your experiences-your joys and your sorrows. In the building of the window, as in your life, sometimes one shape or color dominates the window refracting the light in such a way that the color may dominate all the others. Over time, more panes are added to the window diversifying the colors and refractions. The Pane of glass that represents your wounding is always a part of the whole, but over time, it is less dominate, less defining. It is just one color admits a beautiful tapestry or quilt of glass.”

So as another set of bones in my house progresses through its course of healing, and as all three of us face and move through the unintentional injuries that have come along with this experience, my mind has been drawn back to this stained glass window analogy. I know that that for Grady and Scott in particular, this newly added pane of glass to their windows is quite dominating right now, coloring if you will, all that they are thinking and feeling. I am also very mindful of the many stories of late, which have given us a glimpse into the panes of glass in other people’s windows. Many of these stories, shared so courageously, sometimes many turns around the sun since the originally wounding, remind us of the complexity and layers that healing can have. I have been personally touched, triggered and validated in hearing stories of others speaking their truth-bringing light to their wounds- as a step in their healing. Their bravery gives permission or perhaps insistence to attend to our own healing, to check the wounds and assess the progress.

All of these events remind me of how amazingly resilient and yet tender we all are. I am also reminded of how important it is for us in our own way and time to share our truths with others when and where we are able, and to listen and support those around us as they share the light reflected through their own beautiful and complex stained glass windows.

Here’s to healing.

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