On an innocent enough Tuesday morn,
When the strangest experience makes
its dawn,
“Abnormal internal structures” in our
dear little life,
We learn that she or he is in the
state of real strife.
As the doctor stared into our eyes
that day,
The moment surreal, emotions not kept
at bay,
To hear “there are issues” and to let
that sink in,
To our faith in that moment was all
we could cling.
Sitting there silently as he broke
the news,
Shattered and shaken, no thought of a
ruse,
We walked out into the world, forever
it’d changed,
Somehow our lives were indelibly rearranged.
***
There is no preparation for bad news. To bad news there is the
experience of being blindsided. Even during the process of a critical medical assessment
procedure where nothing can be taken for granted there is still insufficient
preparation for what could potentially come.
And it did come for us late that Tuesday morning, on a gloomy winter’s
day, with rain filtering down from the heavens. Those doctor’s eyes and the
sternness in his resolve and even the humidity in his eyes; the instant of
silence spoke like a megaphone of what we were about to hear.
That pressurised burning sensation in the chest, the excruciating mindfulness
of the moment, time sort of standing still while the emotions scramble to keep
up; the doctor walks into his office and sits down, deliberating, pensive, very
considered.
Certain words leave their mark. “Internal structures,” “compression of
the lungs,” “herniated diaphragm,” and “enlarged kidneys,” all resound like a resonating
gong in the hyperconscious seconds.
Leaving the ultrasound consulting rooms, having been waived of the fee,
a meld of shock and watery eyes, the thing I noticed was how comparatively
inconsiderate people were. But they didn’t know what we did. It wasn’t their
fault. We had such special information. Suddenly we are positioned in the
frustrating dilemma that the world is far behind; our friends and relatives
have no idea and breaking the news brings all kinds of reactions – sadness, of
course, guilt, silence, echoes of support, and even naivety.
Grief ripples into the lives of everyone affected. And we all are... connected
and affected.
***
There is no preparation for grief; no answer for bad news. All we can do
is meet the moment as honestly and as strongly as we can. There is integrity in
that. There is inspiration for life in that. No matter what occurs, our faith
in God carries us through.
© 2014 S. J. Wickham.
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