My First Concussion: A Reflection on 2018's Lenten Discipline

My Lenten discipline for this year was different. Usually, I pick something like giving up desserts or junk food, or adding something like restarting my daily devotional if I’ve gotten out of the habit or listening only to Christian music in the car (the main place I listen to music). My Lenten discipline is usually something I can accomplish with my own self-control. This year’s Lenten discipline was completely out of my control. I gave up being sick.

            I had been on antibiotics for six out of ten weeks starting in December, treated for pneumonia, an ear infection, and chronic sinusitis. By Ash Wednesday (this year on February 14), I was tired of being sick. So, half-jokingly (because I knew it was out of my control), on Ash Wednesday I told my congregation that for Lent I was giving up being sick.

I took my last antibiotic pill on the first Sunday of Lent. In one sense, I kept my Lenten discipline, in that I didn’t catch a cold or any other virus. This was nothing I did, however, because I didn’t do anything special to not get sick. I still went on hospital visits and home visits. I still greeted every parishioner with a handshake or a hug as they left worship. I still exchanged signs of God’s peace during worship. I still have a three and a five year old who bring home germs. I still have a weakened immune system because of the treatment for my rheumatoid arthritis, meaning I’m more likely to catch something and more likely to get sicker for longer with it. I refuse to be paranoid about germs or live in a bubble, even when I’m giving up being sick.

So, instead of a virus, during the 5^th week of Lent, I gave myself a concussion. It was the day school let out early because of ice and snow. Since I was home early with my kids I decided to do a load of laundry. Leaning over into the hamper, I wacked the center of my forehead hard against the corner of the dresser. My kids heard me yell, “OW!” and came running. The five year old got me an ice pack from the freezer. The three year old got me a Band-Aid (and one for himself, too!) Instead of laundry, we all sat on the couch and watched a movie. As the week went on, it got better (partly because I had time to myself for two days going to a friend’s memorial service and, therefore, the ability to pay attention only to myself and what I had to do and time to rest).

Then came Holy Week. And I overdid it, making my symptoms worsen. It wasn’t church-related activities that overdid it, though, it was more laundry. On Monday, my day off, I did six loads of laundry, and was so pleased that I’d even gotten them all folded and put away! (Some would say, sounds like you shouldn’t do laundry! However, I refuse to live my life as a hostage, or victim, to any medical condition. You gotta keep living.) Tuesday morning was okay, but Tuesday afternoon I hit a wall, complete with more symptoms I hadn’t had before, like light sensitivity. Wednesday, I paid more attention, nursed it along, survived, and went to bed at 8:30 p.m. Thursday was my scheduled rheumatologist appointment, but since my RA is doing better since the last dose of Remicaid, my rheumatologist was much more concerned about my concussion and worsening symptoms. He sent me directly from his office to Head First, an urgent care specializing in concussions and head injuries, half a mile down the road.

Sports trainers don’t quite know what to make of a 38 year old pastor mom concussion. I’m not their usual patient. One of them asked forgiveness for missing church on Easter because he was on his honeymoon. I told him I think God understands. They gave me a computerized memory and speed test. I scored in the 90^th percentile (for my age group). What can I say, I’m competitive and I love puzzles. Yet, as long as I keep having any symptoms, they keep wanting to see me back.

I was reminded again about Paul’s explanation about strength in weakness, “God said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ …For when I am weak, then I am strong.” (2 Corinthians 12:9-10). A colleague with Food for the Hungry told me that when I was first diagnosed with RA in 2006. The professor I worked with the most in seminary told me that in 2010, just before I graduated. There is strength in weakness. I am just as strong when I am sick as when I'm healthy. 

Take it easy. Rest. No heavy lifting. This advice came mere hours before the Maundy Thursday service. What did I do? Texted my youth group families to ask for help with the heavy lifting and finishing set up. And they came through.

When I am weak, then I am strong, because then I have to depend on others and we are all stronger together.