Category Archives: marriage & parenting

marriage & parenting, personal growth, self health

3 Days in the Hospital – 3 Lessons Learned

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Last week I was plucked from my life for three harrowing days. Stripped of my belongings and even my clothes, I was locked away from the world with my every move being monitored. I was stabbed repeatedly and even injected with radioactive material.

I was in the hospital.

After a couple day of dealing with dubious chest pains, I thought it prudent to visit my local ER with the hopes that they could dispel my suspicion of heart attack. Three days later, after running a gauntlet of examinations, an automatic sliding glass door powered open granting me freedom from the medical center.

Long story short, I did not have a heart attack, but I do have an enlarged right ventricle which will require that I log more hours in the sterile spaces of our health care system.

Three days of torturous day-time TV and conversations about mortality, afford one a lot of opportunity to reflect on life and to think about the things that truly matter. Three observations stuck with me and are still bouncing around my head as I still linger in the shadow of this experience:

  1. My family’s needs supersede my own. I HATE going to doctors. I avoid them at all costs, even at my own peril. If it were up to me, I would opt out of my company’s heath care program and stock up on duct tape and gauze. But I’m regularly reminded that it’s not about me. I’m the leader of my home, and my family’s needs take precedence over my preference. If I were a single guy, I would have skipped the ER. I would have washed down a pair of Ibuprofen with some beer and hoped for the best. But, it’s not about me.
  2. I need people in my life. As a raging introvert who’s pursuing the rugged individualistic American dream, I try to weather most storms on my own. I don’t like to bring people into my messes. I posted no selfies in my hospital gown because I didn’t want people feeling sorry for me or reaching out to me. Frankly, there’s something wrong with that approach to life. Some did find out about my condition and reached out to me to encourage me. I needed that. It made a difference. I felt fairly isolated from humanity during my stay, like a con locked in the bing. Freedom came in the form of encouraging words.
  3. I need to be more humble. Okay, this thought wasn’t some grand revelation. I knew this already. I’ve been praying about humility and about breaking down my wall of pride for some time. In a way, this experience was an answer to prayer. Being wheeled through a hospital in an open-backed gown, unshaven, unbathed, blood-stained, exhausted is a humbling experience. Remembering the frailty of the human condition gives laser focus. Recognizing that I’m not in control, nor have I ever been in control of my life is reorienting. I needed all that

Friends, we are all going to find ourselves in positions from which we want to escape. I almost yanked out my IV and ninja-walked out of that hospital on day two. But I trusted there was some reason I was there, and that I would take something away from the experience. I hated it in the moment though.

If you find yourself in such a situation today, my encouragement would be to figure out why you’re there. God brought you to it. How do you need Him to equip you or change you to get through it? Don’t face it alone. You are not alone.

If you need someone to talk to, you can email me at jwilloughby443@gmail.com or call (800) 273-8255 to talk to a professional.

marriage, marriage & parenting, personal growth

Dandelion Whine

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I deal with quite a bit of lawn shame. Looking out over my vast .26 acre lot, I often find myself thinking, ‘Meh.’ My yard is especially inglorious this time of year when it needs cut every three days and the weeds are plentiful.

One of my biggest issues is that although my yard needs cut every three days, I am more like an every six to seven day kind of guy. I know my grass is too long when I can see the wind rippling through my lawn like it’s the Serengeti.

I could have sworn I heard Hakuna Matata echoing across the plains the last time I mowed. A “problem-free philosophy” my eye. Whoever wrote that song clearly didn’t have chickweed covering half of their front yard.

I’m not sure why my inability to grow a great lawn bothers me so much. I guess my inner-farmer is offended. I think back to the pioneer days when agriculture was essential. If you couldn’t grow food, you couldn’t eat.

Then, I imagine my 10 pioneer-days children who all look like Tiny Tim (from A Christmas Carol, not the eccentric ukulele player) staring at me with their sunken eyes wondering why their papa can’t get the crops to grow.

I don’t know, Tiny Tim kids! Stop with all the pressure!

I realize that one of the biggest barriers standing between me and a beautiful lawn is time. I don’t invest a lot of it into my lawn.

I assume I could have great landscaping and make my imaginary Tiny Tim family proud if I were to work in my yard every night. But my time is more wisely invested.

I’ve started to notice that some of the best men I know share a similar affliction. Their yards aren’t great either. These men are coaches, dads, granddads, leaders, servants and big-idea guys who are pouring into their families, into youth, into marriages. Lawn care is an afterthought.

They are eradicating emotional weeds and helping prune and nurture spiritual gifts that are just beginning to bud. While I wouldn’t put myself on the same level as some of these men, I see that I often let my yard go for one more day because that day is being invested in something more meaningful.

I am learning to be okay with that.

Someday my body will reside six feet beneath a well-manicured lawn, and whether that’s tomorrow or 50 years from now, I want to leave behind a positive impact.

I want to know that I did something with my time and gifts that helped others in some way. Lawn care (unless I’m caring for someone else’s lawn) simply doesn’t do that.

Now, I have some civic duty and pride that compels me to keep my yard respectable, but it will never look like a golf course. My lawn’s mediocrity is freeing up my capacity to be great in other areas.

I am good with that.

 

marriage & parenting

A Tale of Two Hospitals

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Last month, I had a day that started and ended in hospitals…two different hospitals, in two different counties, by the side of two different family members.

That was not my favorite day.

The first visit was a planned procedure for my wife. Arriving at the hospital at 6 AM, we were advised that Jody should be ready to go home six hours later.

I entertained visions of all the tasks I could accomplish in those hours and still return to the hospital before Jody’s anesthesia wore off.

But when Jody mentioned to the nurse that I was going to leave and come back, the nurse shot a glare at me that said, ‘What kind of heartless-monster are you?’

So I canned my dreams of yard work and resigned to the fact that my next six hours would be spent devouring every issue of Better Homes and Gardens and O Magazine that I could lay my hands on.

I did end up leaving the hospital briefly to grab breakfast, which elicited another ‘heartless-monster’ stare. Apparently, nurses are trained to deliver that stare to dopey husbands like myself.

Six hours of reading women’s magazines sort of felt like ten, but I survived and got some great recipes for summer salads. Oh yeah, Jody survived too.

Fast-forward five hours, and I am prepping the grill for dinner. My eleven-year-old son (Alex), who was shooting baskets in the driveway, bursts into the house frantically, trailing a stream of blood. He falls to the ground holding his toe, blood pooling on the floor.

And my response was, “Alex are you kidding me!?” It is responses like that which may prevent me from winning the Father of the Year award yet again.

But my reaction was based on the fact that two weeks earlier he burst through that same door missing a large patch of skin from the same toe. After which, we had an extensive conversation about the benefits of wearing shoes while playing basketball.

Apparently, my pro-shoe argument was not persuasive enough, and as a result, I found myself speeding up the interstate for my second hospital visit of the day.

Two hours and three stitches later we were home. Both of the patients were on the mend, and my patience was mending as well.

As I lay in bed that night reflecting on my day, I wasn’t pleased with my responses to the situations in which I found myself. I should have known that my role as a husband meant I was going to sit in the waiting room for six hours. The nurses’ glares told me that should have been a foregone conclusion, but it wasn’t for me.

And I should have reacted better to my son’s injury. My concern for his well-being should have trumped my anger. Both of my reactions were born out of selfishness. I was worried about my time and my inconvenience. As the leader of my home, my concern for my family needs to be on par or above my own.

I quietly and humbly recognized that in the still of the night and prayed for the strength and wisdom to react better.

Here’s to hoping that happens. And here’s to hoping I never have another two-hospital kind of day.