So Alabama’s losing the Sugar Bowl to Oklahoma in a lackadaisical effort last Friday was pretty awful, but I felt reasonably well physically.
Before the trip, I’d had my pee tested, once again, and I had been found clear of any remaining infection — meaning that my three rounds of antibiotics following back surgery two months earlier was finally over.
I was still recovering from the stiffness and soreness of my back surgery, and I was looking forward to finally getting back into decent shape after a brief vacation in New Orleans.
But by mid-Saturday morning after we’d returned from the game (11 days ago, back in Tuscaloosa), the feelings of infection had become overwhelming. A trip to a doc-in-a-box (operated by a premier emergency room physician) resulted in two antibiotic shots, and yet I continued to grow weaker and less responsive.
My wife had the good sense to take me to the emergency room early afternoon, where I was I diagnosed with sepsis — while no less than four medical professionals desperately tried to start an IV in me … and I just kind of drifted away wondering what the big deal was.
“Sepsis” is what we used to call blood poisoning. The primary signs are evidence of widespread infection, sudden loss of blood pressure, and death. Death is usually the giveaway-symptom. The emergency room team had to get my pressure up to “human” just so the antibiotics could flow through the bloodstream to where they were needed.
Evidently, I had had an infection still hidden in a kidney, which got into the bloodstream and was fast creating pneumonia in my lungs. An hour or two later, and they likely would not have been able to save me.
Surgical Flamethrower (not to scale)
So I’ve been out of touch the last several days, I’m about 600 emails behind, and I’ve given no thought to future blog posts. But it sure beats death.
It’s actually a whole LOT better than death, but it did involve yet another uteroscopy, in which a surgeon cleans up kidney stones using a water hose, vacuum cleaner, rake, and flamethrower
— and the only available orifice through which one may enter the kidneys without making a brand new hole.
(I have avoided using certain images known to prompt fainting among readers.)
I’ve not been in any shape to post anything here or on Facebook. I’m not sure if that’s apt to change quickly. Despite being 10 or days removed from the sepsis attack, and finally home from the hospital, I find myself exhausted most of the day. I’m watching far more TV than is good for me, and writing — which was once second nature — has become laborious.
I figure I won’t start feeling energetic enough to be worth anything to anybody until I finish the oral antibiotics I’m on. (Antibiotic from “anti” meaning against and “bios” meaning life — hence, “antibiotic”: a substance that makes you feel mostly dead (which is much better than totally dead)).
I have little doubt that I will return to active blogging in a week or two or three. Or something like that.
In fact, it’s both encouraging and not encouraging at all to learn how very well things runs without you. Expendability is tough on the ego but still quite a relief when you are forced to step aside for a few weeks.
I keep thinking that this is the time to write the blog post on taking stock, on being kinder to your children and pets, to revisualizing the world in light of my recent mostly deadness.
But I did not undergo some sort of epiphany (it literally took me three days to think of this word … writing is so much harder …). I laid in the hospital bed knowing that my wife, children, and grandchildren are deeply loved by God and would be cared for by him, even if I were not to be around to take credit for God’s provision. I didn’t feel like I’d left a whole lot of stuff undone. I wasn’t anxious to die, but it’s not that the thought of death was all that unattractive. It’s just that I have a few more miles of tread left while I can still be of service to the Kingdom. The tread is wearing a bit thin, but I’m still roadworthy — or will be again soon enough.
I’m not big on legacy building or building monuments to oneself. That’s not the path to immortality. On the other hand, I think everyone would like to know that his days in the mortal plane were not without significance. Our significance is not measured by how well we’re remembered, but by our influence on others who remain behind.
If we live well, not only will God give us immortality to live with the angels, but we’ll arrive at heaven’s front stoop greeted by the hundreds, even thousands, whose lives were touched by us in ways that matter for all eternity. Maybe we’ll be met by a few thousand spiritual descendants converted by a missionary we gave $5.00 to as a 6th grader as part of a Bible class project. Maybe we’ll be met by the great great grandchildren of the babies we cared for in the nursery, so their parents could be in Bible class. Only known to God might be the fact that this hour or two of childcare is the only thing that kept them faithful during dark times.
Who knows? A blog posted, a Bible class taught, or just a life well lived may well be the tipping point in the lives of others that touch yours in ways you barely notice but that God sanctifies into life-changing, even world-changing, events. Make no mistake: you influence far more than than you think.
And so we foster good habits, good practices, right relationships so that our lives prepare treasures in heaven to greet us at the end of it all.
(Mat 6:19-21 ESV) 19 “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, 20 but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. 21 For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
It’s almost a self-fulfilling prophecy. When you value eternal things rather than the temporal, then you busy yourself with things of eternal significance — and this builds up treasure in heaven.
Since your treasure is in heaven, and not on earth, death becomes relativized, that is, hardly the absolute barrier between here and there, now and then, that is so terrifying to so many. That fear comes from having too much treasure here. I’m actually looking forward to it — whenever God decrees that my time in his service is done.
And it also happens that the treasures in heaven may well be the same treasures that anchor us here. Family, friends, the pleasures of this life. These are, of course, good things given us by God — and dying seems a separation from these delights. But if our family and friends have been promised immortality by God, we’ll enjoy them all the more with the angels. Death is no separation but a movement toward a greater unity with those we love.
(Joh 17:22-24 ESV) 22 The glory that you have given me I have given to them, that they may be one even as we are one, 23 I in them and you in me, that they may become perfectly one, so that the world may know that you sent me and loved them even as you loved me. 24 Father, I desire that they also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory that you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world.
My daughter-in-law is pregnant with my first granddaughter. It’s pretty exciting. If I died tomorrow, I won’t miss her. Rather, I’ll meet her at the entrance to eternity, along with all my great-grandchildren, where she’ll have some great stories to share with me, to catch me up on all that we missed.
And it will be better than life itself.
You see, we live this life mostly dead. We do. If real life is eternal life, then a mostly alive person would think and dream and plan about eternal things — the things that betoken real life, but we all spend nearly all our time and energy focused on things destined to die. We value the dead and the nearly dead. And so we live mostly dead lives.
Fortunately, God can redeem us from even that. But what a shame to live this special gift of life as though dead were alive and alive were dead.
Jay, I pray your recovery will be steady, rapid, and complete. Thank you for sharing your experience and reflections. These things help one to gain perspective of what is temporary and what is of eternal value. I would much rather learn from what you (and also Edward Fudge) have shared than have to have this type of experience myself, but that time will come for us all. Some will get some extra time to put what they have learned into practice. I believe that the perspective you shared is a glimpse into the eternal plan of God, made before the creation of the world, that should grow into His image (Eph. 4:24, Col. 3:10) by being transformed into the character of Christ (Rom 12:2, 2 Cor. 3;18). May you be brought to complete healing by the mercy and power of God. David
I am thankful you are on the road to recovery. Thank God for caring, perceptive wives!
Glad you remain with us. You are a blessing
Painful for you but good news for your readers of which I am only one. But, I can say I look forward to what you will write next. To you good health!
So glad you’re still around to blog! Good perspective on life as it leads to eternal life.
Sure is good to hear your good report. I just cannot imagine how you managed to write such a long report, and I have not seen your level of competence diminished from the stress and medicine you have endured. Take care as you heal.
From one mostly dead human to another: I’ve been missing you, but thank you for this view from the brink. It helps to give more significance to the little things we do, to the relationships we nurture, and to the casual “touches” of another’s life that means so much but costs so little.
Jay, it’s good to hear you are back on the road to recovery. I trust you continue to get better. May God continue to give you strength is my prayer. Look forward to your return to the blog, let the young lawyers have the business worries for a spell, they might just realize the chair in the corner office isn’t so plush! Godspeed.
God bless. Be well soon.
Jay; You must stop taking an Alabama loss so seriously that it puts you in the hospital.
Glad you are geting over it, and will soon be back to your writing.
Jim Neely
Jay. great thoughts on death. How many will be waiting for us on the far shore when we cross Jordan and will come running toward us through the shallow water reaching for our hand.
What a reunion!!!
Great thoughts Jay, right from the heart! Such a great perspective. One of your finest posts. Take two aspirins, get some rest and post again in the morning!
Jay ~ I’ve missed your regular postings and am glad that you will begin again. Thank you for your perspective on being “mostly dead.” Firstly, you repeatedly made me laugh, which was unsettling as you described a near death experience. Secondly, you reminded of our great hope in being fully alive and to not put too much investment in this life. God bless your recovery.
I just knew that something must be wrong. I wish it had been your computer down and not you down. I liked the illustration of the medical procedure. Your humor and intellect may seem to be dim, but I think it is still there………….and not as dim as it may feel to you. God Bless You as much as you bless all of us.
So glad you caught you’ve survived to write again. You’re right…we live this life mostly dead and look forward to sharing in our Lord’s glory eternally.
This situation does make me think you need a succession plan of sorts for your blog site. When you are called home, don’t leave us wondering what happened. Somebody will need to give us an update.
So glad you’ve survived to write again I mean.
Nancy,
Thanks for the note. Actually, before I went in for back surgery, I gave my wife my passwords and instructions on letting the world know of my demise should that happen. I did try to plan ahead.
But unlike the surgery, the sepsis came up unexpectedly, so much so that word largely got out via church emails and word of mouth. It was too sudden and severe to even get mentioned on Facebook (how weird is that?). By the time it was clear I was only mostly dead, and very likely to recover, the family’s focus had turned toward recovery.
Now, the successor part is a bit harder, you know. I suspect that the blog will die with me. If my wishes are honored, the posts will remain archived in perpetuity, in case they prove of value to someone someday. But there are lots of great Christian bloggers out there. Hopefully, the need for my particular ministry expires before I do. If not, God will provide.
Glad to hear you are doing a little better. I have had over 40 kidney stones – last one was earlier this week I have also had four rounds of epidural back injections and a rhizotomy in the past 18 months in hopes of putting off back surgery indefinitely. I say this simply to say that I know a little of what you have gone through and hope God blesses you with quickly and thorough recovery.
Hesed,
Randall
It’s at the peak of being truly alive that the stench of death creeps in to steal away all of our hopes, dreams, and ambitions.
But enough about Alabama football. :—-)
Too soon?? Too soon?? :——-)
Jay —
Seriously though, if I may ask, in the five yrs I’ve followed your blog you’ve seemed to be plagued with numerous maladies for a reasonably young old person. I’m not sure how to polish that so I’ll leave it. :–)
Do you have something more chronic going on that I don’t know about?
Good stuff, Jay! Sorry to hear of the harrowing event that prompted it though. Maybe I’d better get busy with those plans to visit University! More in email…..
Glad you are on the road to recovery. Praying that each day finds you stronger.
So glad to hear from you via your blog! Though you say your writing has suffered, it’s still very good. You continue to be in our thoughts and prayers and may your strength begin to return soon. It’s been a challenging time for you but I love your humor and the faith that sustains you.
Do take care!
He speaks for us all in writing, “Jay; You must stop taking an Alabama loss so seriously that it puts you in the hospital.” Sports just are NOT that important! I first heard of your blogs from a friend I met at a Tulsa Workshop (was it 4 years ago), and I am glad that the Lord has caused you to share with others your thoughts! I hope you keep on thinking and blogging for many more healthful years.
I also pray that you will fully realize that new birth is of water and spirit (repentance toward Jesus and immersion in water then being raised up INTO new life), that the Spirit is God’s gift to those who are newly born into the kingdom of Jesus Christ rather than the cause of new birth. I’m convinced it’s faith in JESUS which leads to being reborn. I’m sure that faith comes from hearing the GOSPEL which is all about Jesus. Those who are already in Paradise will of course know more about the subject than most of us here do. You well describe our meetings there.