The Irony in Life

Life is full of ironies. A prominent thoracic surgeon who was scheduled to do my procedure, and who has saved hundreds of kid's lives, has cancer and will be unable to return to the operating room. Our thoughts and prayers are with him and his family during this incredibly difficult time.

Another one of life's ironies is that my thoughts and prayers are constantly with a family whose husband; son, father, mother, wife, or daughter will be my donor. If I only knew who they were could I warn them? Could we stop whatever calamity is coming? This is a very sobering predicament. Like the young single mother who gives her child away to a married couple for adoption, there is an almost indescribable sacrifice, which takes place.

My wife works with babies fresh from Heaven while I have a friend who buried people for his profession until he sold his business. On and on it goes and the irony of life and death is fascinating, sobering, difficult, and mysterious.

Where do we find comfort in all of this? It's almost impossible for me to discuss such strange diversions in life without acknowledging my faith in a loving Heavenly Father who knows and understands all things.

A spiritual hero of mine and theologian leader Neil A. Maxwell wrote, "Irony is the hard crust on the bread of adversity. Irony can try both our faith and our patience. Irony can be a particularly bitter form of such chastening because it involves disturbing incongruity. It involves outcomes in violation of our expectations. We see the best laid plans laid waste."

He continues, "With its inverting of our anticipated consequences, irony becomes the frequent cause of an individual’s being offended. The larger and the more untamed one’s ego, the greater the likelihood of his being offended, especially when tasting his portion of vinegar and gall."

"Words then issue, such as Why me? Why this? Why now? Of course, these words may give way to subsequent spiritual composure. Sometimes, however, such words precede bitter inconsolability, and then it is a surprisingly short distance between disappointment and bitterness."

Maxwell further suggests, "Amid life’s varied ironies, you and I may begin to wonder, did not God notice this torturous turn of events? And if He noticed, why did He permit it? Am I not valued?"

"Irony may involve not only unexpected suffering but also undeserved suffering. We feel we deserved better, and yet we fared worse. We had other plans, even commendable plans. Did they not count? A physician, laboriously trained to help the sick, now, because of his own illness, cannot do so."

And finally, Neil Maxwell concludes, "In coping with irony, as in all things, we have an Exemplary Teacher in Jesus. Dramatic irony assaulted Jesus’ divinity almost constantly.

"For Jesus, in fact, irony began at His birth. Truly, He suffered the will of the Father “in all things from the beginning.” This whole earth became Jesus’ footstool, but at Bethlehem there was “no room … in the inn” and “no crib for his bed”

"At the end, meek and lowly Jesus partook of the most bitter cup without becoming the least bitter. The Most Innocent suffered the most. Yet the King of Kings did not break, even when some of His subjects did unto Him “as they listed.” Christ’s capacity to endure such irony was truly remarkable."

"You and I are so much more brittle. For instance, we forget that, by their very nature, tests are unfair."

A scripture reads something like, "I do not know the meaning of all things? But, I know that God loves His children."

And another which provides great comfort says, "The spirits of all men, as soon as they are departed from this mortal body, yea, the spirits of all men, whether they be good or evil, are taken home to that God who gave them life...those who are righteous are received into a state of happiness, which is called paradise, a state of rest, a state of peace, where they shall rest from all their troubles and from all care, and sorrow."

Often, in my mind flow the words of another spiritual hero, Joseph Smith, who wrote, "I am like a huge, rough stone rolling down from a high mountain; … knocking off a corner here and a corner there. Thus I will become a smooth and polished shaft in the quiver of the Almighty."

All of my life's challenges and mountains to climb have brought me closer to my family and to God. I would not trade them for all the money in the world. These things are difficult and discouraging at times but there is much greater suffering in the world than my own. And through it all I am comforted knowing that God is my friend.

Visit my blog titled My Faith in Jesus

Read the full sermon "Irony: The Crust on the Bread of Adversity" by Neil A. Maxwell

My Heart Cath

Prior to yesterday’s heart cath my wife Lynnette and I were fortunate to visit with a cute little boy named Grant and his parent’s Kyle and Allie. Grant was born with HLHS and needed some repair work on his liver, which was shaped like a horseshoe around his other organs. But, gratefully, after many prayers and good medical care, Grant is on the mend and doing better. Doctors need to keep him in the pediatric intensive care unit (P.I.C.U.) for another couple of weeks before Kyle and Allie can take him home. In the meantime, his parents have an RV they can stay in parked at the hospital. Kyle has been attending school in Logan, Utah.

While in the P.I.C.U. we saw many familiar faces and had a brief conversation with one of my surgeons. We also learned that little Jack Trent is recovering very well from his Fontan and they hope to take him home soon.

As for my cath, we checked in at noon and waited with other same-day surgery children. I always enjoy sitting in there as the only adult going into a procedure. Toys are everywhere. There was one woman telling her grandson how to play his video game. So I pulled out my Iphone and played a golf game.

We were called into a room after 30 minutes. They checked my vital stats and had me take off my clothes and put on a gown. Doctor Gray came in and we discussed the procedure, which would be my third cath since being listed for a heart last August.

My anestiologist came into the room and we discussed how they wouldn’t put me completely under like the children but they would give me an anti-anxiety drug and another causing amnesia. (In my childhood I remember being awake for most of these caths although they now put the kids completely out).

After saying goodbye to my gorgeous wife I walked into the cath lab which looks like an operation room. There were several nurses and techs prepping the room. We joked about the temperpedic mattress on the narrow operating table. We laughed about many other things as I laid flat on the table.

They hooked me up to machines and began a slow drip of the drug in my picc line. Once the drip was going they put an IV in my left hand so I could have my 24/7 medication Mileranone running into my picc. I continued joking about my vulnerable situation. The radio was playing “round and round” by a metal band called RATT. I hadn’t heard that song in a long time. I mentioned, “you’re putting me out to this 80s song?” Slowly, I faded or drifted off and the procedure went forward.

I remember talking through the procedure although I was very sleepy. I felt the wire going into my body through an artery in my left groin area. It was somewhat uncomfortable, but not painful. It’s like being at the dentist after they’ve numbed you and you feel the pressures of the drill in your mouth but no pain. Doctor Gray checked my heart's pressures, the stent he had put in six months ago, and clot off a large collateral artery.

I awoke in the recovery room surrounded by other children in their beds, plenty of nurses, and a lot of movement. I have to be honest I felt extremely uncomfortable and had a lot of anxiety. I’m not sure if I had a bad reaction to a drug or if some evil power overcame me. I was discouraged and mentally drained. I felt like the character Andy in The Shawshank Redemption trying to escape through the narrow tunnel he had spent years try to dig to his freedom.

After an hour Lynnette put my socks on my feet. I put on my shirt and eventually the anxieties went away. I became calm and asked for some food. I asked my nurse for the popular root beer slushy many have grown to love. I downed a few of those and by 10:30 pm we were able to pack up and head home after getting a dose of antibiotics through my IV, which they would remove. I still have a large bandage over my left groin that I’ll take off in a few hours.

In the midst of suffering I try to remind myself that it does end. It might seem like a million years away. But, the pain ends. Some suffering last our whole life – but it ends. I am comforted by my faith and knowing there is a loving God who does not find joy in our suffering but finds joy in what it makes us become.

(Pictures: Top - Grant and his parents Kyle & Allie, Middle - Me and Lynnette, Bottom - With my Mom whose spent years in a children's hospital with me)