Preparing the Heart: Fighting the Long Defeat

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He has dwelt in the West since the days of dawn, and I have dwelt with him years uncounted . . . and together through ages of the world we have fought the long defeat.
~J.R.R. Tolkien from The Lord of the Rings

 

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It is only 10 days before we bid farewell to autumn and accept the arrival of the winter solstice signaling the long slow climb back to daylight. This giving-way to the darkness has felt like a defeat we may never recover from.

Yet the sunset becomes a startling send-off for fall, coloring Mt. Baker and surrounding an almost full moon with purple in the eastern sky. Our farm, for a deceptive few minutes, appears rosy and warm in crisp subfreezing weather. Then all becomes gray again, and within an hour we are shrouded in thick fog which ices the asphalt as darkness fell.  It becomes a challenge to avoid the deep ditches along our country roads, with the white fog line being the critical marker preventing potential disaster.

The ever present evening fog this time of year cloaks and smothers in the darkness, not unlike the respiratory and gastrointestinal viruses that have hit many households hard this week. Plenty of people have been vomiting, feverish, coughing and snuffling, unable to leave the bathroom or see past the ends of their swollen noses, as if the fog descended upon them in an impenetrable gray cloud. It is an unwelcome reminder of our vulnerability to microscopic organisms that can defeat us and lay us low in a matter of hours, just as a sudden freezing fog can lure us to the ditch. We are forced to stay put, our immune systems fighting back at a time when there are dozens of responsibilities vying for attention in preparation for the holidays. Little gets accomplished other than our slow wait for healing and clarity–at some point the viral fog will dissipate and we can try climbing back into life and navigating without needing the fog lines as guides.

Ditches have been very deep for some folks recently, with the diagnosis of cancers and devastating surgeries swallowing up their light and joy. Despite profound losses and pain, people courageously continue to fight, climbing their way out of the darkness to the light.

The day’s transition to night becomes bittersweet: these bright flames of color herald our uneasy future sleep after fighting the long defeat on this soil.

The sun “settles” upon the earth and so must we.

Be at ease, be comforted, put down the heavy burden and rest. We can celebrate, with chorus and gifts, the arrival of brilliant light in our lives. Instead of darkness overcoming us, our lives become illuminated in glory and grace.

The Son has settled among us.

 

Sure on this shining night of star-made shadows round,
kindness must watch for me this side the ground,
on this shining night, this shining night

The late year lies down the north
All is healed, all is health
High summer holds the earth,
hearts all whole
The late year lies down the north
All is healed, all is health
High summer holds the earth, hearts all whole
Sure on this shining night,
sure on this shining, shining night

Sure on this shining night
I weep for wonder wand’ring far alone
Of shadows on the stars
Sure on this shining night, this shining night
On this shining night, this shining night
Sure on this shining night
~from James Agee’s poem

O magnum mysterium,
et admirabile sacramentum.
Ut animalia viderent Dominum natum,
iacentem in praesepio:
Beata Virgo, cujus viscera meruerunt portare
Dominum Christum
Alleluia

 

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Stretched Thin

“I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.”
J.R.R. Tolkien

It is not supposed to happen while taking vacation days from work.  I’m supposed to be well-rested, eager to return to work and ready for the next challenge.  Instead, some viral crud has collided with my immune system and won;  I’ve spent the last 24 hours with chills, fever, muscle aches and no appetite.   I was thinking my strange dreams and overwhelming laziness over the previous two days was just the real “me” coming out while on vacation, but now I know it was the real virus instead.

I try to go at 100 miles per hour in my professional and personal life to get everything done, rarely taking breaks as I feel I’ll never regain the momentum needed.  I’m finding that approach to life can’t be sustained, either because my body can’t do it any longer, or more likely, my brain doesn’t easily stretch that thin any longer.    I’m realizing there may a steady pace that is sustainable and I need to find it.  Right now that pace is from bed to bathroom to computer and back to bed.  I hope to aim for a little more adventure tomorrow.

When I am stretched too thin–when tears flow easy–it is time to slow down and taste the bread and not worry about buttering it.

It is time for the body to be restored by the Body.

A Febrile Ceasefire

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Flu viruses rank up there with mosquitoes, rats, and slugs as creatures of questionable value to the Planet Earth.    I realize there is a reason for all things at all times, but how I managed to invite one of these little RNA stuffed darlings  into my nasopharynx is a mystery.  I was washing my hands to the point of being red and raw and wearing a N100 mask when in contact with hundreds of coughing feverish patients.  It still happened.  It outsmarted sanitizer, respiratory barriers, and social distancing.  So now on day three of fever and general misery, I bow in homage to the virus that lays millions low.  Misery does not love company.

Viruses do tend to have an equalizing effect on society.  They are no respecters of social status –one nose and set of lungs is as good as another.  However, the fact that thousands of deaths occur annually due to these little creatures is significant.  You’d think a virus would know better than to kill its own host, but some hosts can’t take the onslaught of cytokines and inflammatory response.   It is still pre-H1N1 vaccine in most parts of the world, and some of the antiviral medications have little effect, so it becomes an outright virus vs. host battle.  That’s what it feels like: a Lord of the Rings-Orks against the Elves and the Dwarves-onslaught happening in every muscle of my body.  I’d forgotten about some of those muscles.  Some haven’t made themselves known for decades, probably not since my last influenza, or when I tried taking a yoga class in my twenties.

So my only physiological response is fever.  This isn’t necessarily a bad response, as some studies suggest that a hot host is not a hospitable host to many viruses.  We’re not nearly as tolerant of fevers as we used to be.  A recent study has shown that giving a dose of Tylenol to children before or after their routine immunizations, to help decrease pain and fever, actually blunts the immune response so they don’t make as much antibody, which is the whole point of the vaccination to begin with.  So there may actually be need for fever in certain circumstances.  In my lovely 50’s era baby book, my mother noted in 1955 that my 6 month shot was a “good take” because I spiked a 104 degree fever, signaling a good immune response to the vaccine.  That was one way the doctors calmed down nervous mothers about brand new vaccines.  Fever is a “good” sign.  Nowadays, that kind of fever after a vaccination would be enough for a trip to the ER and potentially a law suit.

If there is anything I’ve learned in 30 years of doctoring, it’s that the pathogens continue to be smarter than modern medicine no matter what weapons, chemical or otherwise, we come up with next to arm ourselves.  Thankfully, we have immune systems that are remarkably effective for most things, but the fight required to win the war with a virus is not for the faint hearted.  It is a down and dirty trench and barbed wire battle field.

Just right now, it feels like time for a ceasefire…