If you’ve read my blog for awhile you know I’ve been struggling with tennis elbow for quite sometime. Tennis + typing on my computer = a locked up elbow. I tried physical therapy first which did help tremendously, but I got fed up (microwave society, remember?). I wanted it fixed, and I wanted it fixed NOW.
So I scheduled a cortisone shot for Thursday, but as most doctor’s offices are, mine was backed up for over an hour. I had to leave to pick up my son at school so I rescheduled for Friday at 9:30. No problem. Should be early enough in the day so my doctor wouldn’t be behind.
Scratch that. I finally get called back at 10:45 and he sees me at 11:10. So if you add all that time up, I had about two and a half hours to think about this shot. I had heard that it didn’t hurt at all but also it was extremely painful. So you know where my mind wandered…
Maybe it was staring at the framed picture of Belle and the Beast or the one of Snow White with one of the dwarfs while I was waiting (the orthopedic clinic used to be a pediatrician’s office and no one has gotten around to replacing the Disney artwork with bland pictures of sailboats or a nondescript forest), but I couldn’t help but think back to some of the worst visits I had at the pediatrician’s office with my children, because those trips always included shots.
One incident in particular came to mind, when my son was about 4 or so. He was very sick, very high fever, throat swollen, the whole 9 yards. By the time we were called back (again, waiting for an hour or so in the doctor’s office) he had totally soaked through my shirt with the sweat coming off his sweet big head. After examining him our pediatrician suggested a shot to get the antibiotics in him quickly. Yep, let’s get this ball rollin’ fast, sister. He’s very sick and momma is holding on to her sanity by a very thin rope.
My son had been extremely lethargic until he spotted that needle. He was young, but apparently had a fantastic memory. He snapped to attention and went ballistic (which for those of you who know him is extremely rare) when the nurse came at him with that shot. As I tried to hold him still in my lap I remember thinking that for a 4 year old he sure did have some kind of incredible hulk-like strength.
I ended up laying on top of him on the examining table. Yep, there I was, holding him down so the mean nurse could do her thing. Not exactly the action that makes you feel like momma of the year. I cooed and I cried with him, telling him momma was there, that he was going to be all right.
So Friday as I waited on my shot, thinking through how scared he was, and how scared I was, I promised Jesus he wouldn’t have to sit on me to make me still but told Him I sure would appreciate it if He would hold my hand.
And I know getting a cortisone shot is nothing compared to what some of you are going through, but God’s promises are the same no matter what your situation.
“For I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear, I will help you.” (Isaiah 41:13)
When you are faced with your fears, cling to Isaiah 41:13 and experience the truth of God’s promise to be with you and hold your hand in the midst of your trials and troubles. It’s a promise we can all depend on no matter what we face in our day.
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