April 2 – “The power of the toe”

Now, Chris is claustrophobic.  Not just a little bit.  She has to be careful just trying on a hat.  No roller coasters for her.  Not because she's a sissy.  She can't stand to be strapped in.  And the boys used to love it when we would drive through a tunnel, or – the all-time favorite – under a trestle with a train passing overhead.  Truly an occasion for a Chris minor melt down.  So you can imagine her chagrin when the doctor told her she needed an MRI … of her head.  And that's where we headed after her night vision goggles, air in the ear experience. After a pleasant meal at a Fuddruckers we found just around the corner from the Balance Therapy place, we headed over to Diagnostic MRI Central.    They had been warned about her aversion to tight spaces.  So after a bit of haggling about how we were going to pay for the test (they wanted it all right then, which was not the arrangement we had negotiated over the phone.  But the girl we talked to wasn't there, of course), they handed her some calm-me-down pills to place under her tongue.  I guess the haggling got her more riled up than we thought.  The "calm-ative" didn't do much calming.   When it came her turn she went back with the tech.  I dutifully stayed behind to guard her purse with my novel and crossword puzzle book.  I could most definitely feel a nap coming on.  But before I could get settled in, I heard my name.  The tech was looking for me.  What happened?  Did they refuse our credit card?  Did Chris pass out?  Did the machine eat her alive?  Ah, no.  Chris was desirous of my company.  I was instructed to put my keys and anything else metal in a locker.  (I actually forgot to put in my hearing aids.  I didn't think about them until he handed me ear plugs.  When I said I had to take them out, he was horrified that I hadn't already.  He said the evil monster machine would suck all the power out of the batteries.  He said I could take the crossword book.  I don't think he really meant it, though.  At one point when the machine was on he told me to hold onto the mechanical pencil tightly because we "didn't want it flying in and hitting Chris on the head."  Horrifying picture).  So, it seems that Chris had seen the patient before her coming out of the monster's – er, machine's – innards.  No way was she disappearing into that tiny space for over an hour.    My job, I soon found out, was to hold her hand and help her get through it.  I took up my post as he tried to strap her head down to the table.  That wasn't happening.  So he wedged in a cushion next to each ear, covered her eyes with a cloth, and slid the plastic head piece into place.  And he managed to get her about halfway in.  About the time our parted, she calmly but sternly indicated that it was time for her to come out.   A brief respite was in order, so we received a tour of the facility.  Actually it was just a ruse to show her the other machine, the one with no sides.  He offered that option, but since the top would still be but inches from her face, Chris took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and literally marched back to the original beast, muttering, "No.  Let's do this and do it now."   She had been preparing for this moment for several days, listening to music and reading her Bible.  Her plan was to spend her time singing songs and quoting Scripture.  So she crawled back up onto the table and promised she would keep her head still if he agreed to leave out the foam wedges.  Surprisingly, he agreed.  Knowing that I was not Elastic Man with the superpower of stretching my arms like rubber bands, I knew that at some point I would have to release her hand.  And that's when I remembered … the  Power of the Toe.   I learned of this power when I was dealing with a pinched nerve in my lower back.  I woke up one night screaming and punched Chris.  My big toe felt like it was going to explode from the inside out.  That's when I discovered that the great  toe is the secret conduit of power into and outside of the body.  So instead of jumping headfirst into the monster to maintain my grip on her hand, I casually moved down her leg until I had a grasp on her Great Toe.  The table began its descent into the tiny crevice.  But I held on.  The loud noises began.  But I held on.  Except for a few brief moments when my arm went numb and I had to shake circulation back into it, I held on to that toe.  I stood up for over an hour.  I worked crosswords with my left hand.  With every slight toe wiggle, I responded with a gentle squeeze, urging my energy to pass through the toe conduit and give her energy to withstand.   Meanwhile, deep inside the bowels of the snorting monster, Chris came to rely on the tiny toe touches she felt.  For alas, she could think of no songs except Jesus Loves Me, and she couldn't remember how that one began.  She could think of no scriptures to quote.  And then the toe connection faded from her personality reality.  She was beginning to panic.  Suddenly, out of the darkness, she had a random thought about two of the Seaside kids, Travis and Cody.  And then Anna.  And then Terry.  And then Dennis.  Then a barrage of other people flooded into her brain.  And she prayed for each one right up to the time of her much anticipated exit.   Want to know Chris' answer to extreme stress?  Get outside of yourself.  Think of others.  Pray for them.  Do random acts of radical kindness to them.  The force that is greater even than the power of the toe?  Love.   Jeremiah 17:7-8 says, "But blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him.  He will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream.  It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green.  It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit."   Father, thank you for being in tight spaces and knowing just what will get us through them.  Amen.