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Friday, I hurt my shoulder. It came on slowly. First, I felt a stiffening. Then a dull, throbbing pain. Then bending my arm hurt. Getting sweaters on and off became challenging. I could barely pull my clothes on. In fact, I did, but with great yelps of pain and tears. Note: you shouldn’t cry while pulling on your pants unless they’re truly ugly. Then, cry away.

I went in to the doctor on Saturday afternoon. He had me raise my left arm as high as I could. I made it halfway up. He tried to push it up.

“Ow!” I exclaimed.

He stopped. He looked concerned. Well, as concerned as he could look while wearing a mask. He had a cold.

“You could have arthritis or bursitis, or an impingement,” he said, eyes full of sympathy. He sent in a prescription for stronger pain medication than ibuprofen.

He sent me to get an X-ray. I wandered the hospital to find only the ER open. I thought, Oh boy. This could take awhile.

“It should be 5-30 minutes,” the attendant told me.

OK.

“Sharon? Sharon?” A female voice called out into the void of the waiting room.

I perked up my ears. I often get called Sharon.

“Sharon Ee-sham?”

I hopped up and followed the voice.

“That’s me, but I’m not Sharon. I’m Susan.”

The X-ray tech looked relieved to find me and chagrined at butchering my name.

“Sorry about that. Come on back.”

We wandered the labyrinth of hallways. Not a lot of foot traffic on Saturdays.

I took off all my metal items and stood in front of the target.

The tech lined me up.

“Turn. Back up one step. Turn a little more.” I felt like this was a professional photo session. “Tilt your chin up. Smile. Chin down. Stop punching your sister. Now!”

Anyway, I noticed something.

“Um, it’s my left shoulder I’m here for, not my right.”

“Oh man.”

Now she felt really dumb. She adjusted me into the mirror image of what I was supposed to be on the other side.

“Hold your breath. Okay. Let it out.”

I went home in pain and discouraged. I called the chiropractor’s office. They’re all out of the office until Wednesday. I left a message at another place. He can’t see me until next week.

But God.

Pretty much everyone in my immediate family has laid hands on me and prayed for me. I got prayer at church. I’ve prayed for myself. I’ve cried out to God, because I needed to go to work yesterday and wondered how in the world I would sit at my computer and type.  He has started the healing process, and I’m getting better each day. Jesus proves Himself faithful yet again.

That old song rings true.

I thought about how much we need our whole body to work together. I thought about my friends who live with constant, chronic pain, and had more compassion than before. I had no idea how much I relied on my left shoulder until I hurt it. Likewise, we need each other. I don’t have all the answers. But you might be able to shed light on my situation, give me a new perspective.

But our bodies have many parts, and God has put each part just where he wants it.  How strange a body would be if it had only one part! Yes, there are many parts, but only one body.  The eye can never say to the hand, “I don’t need you.” The head can’t say to the feet, “I don’t need you.” – 1 Corinthians 12:18-21

 

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