Wednesday, October 09, 2024
60.0°F

Sometimes we have to look beyond the immediate horizon

by Carol Shirk Knapp Contributing Writer
| September 26, 2018 1:00 AM

Fall equinox has arrived. Six months until the spring version. Daylight in a box. Shrinking into a corner come winter solstice and bursting out again in its summer counterpart.

The thing to remember this time of year — as the days grow more tired and seem earlier to bed — is they will roll over and wake up revived again. That morning cup of joe. Caffeinated cosmos.

This seasonal shift, combined with an upcoming major medical event for my husband, has got me thinking about horizons. The short and the long. What is evident and what might become evident.

A double spinal fusion — Terry’s third back surgery in less than four years — is only days away. You can surmise he is feeling something like the daylight this time of year. Let’s just creep into that box and don’t come out. Avoid the whole depressing business.

So the other day I said, “We’ve got to look beyond the immediate horizon.” What we can see now is more pain and inconvenience. Weeks of physical limitations — no bending, twisting, lifting. A tedious recovery. Blah! It doesn’t inspire me, either. And I have only a supporting role in the whole drama.

But if this procedure isn’t performed, due to a new injury, he’s not going to be in shape for much. Stairs are becoming nearly impossible. Imagine our surprise when he saw our daughter’s surgeon friend on our Alaska visit in August, and that man turned out to be good friends — going back years to medical school in Chicago — with Terry’s surgeon in Spokane! Tops in their field, they both agree this surgery will benefit him.

You can’t get much surer than that. There’s one thing left for us — face the ordeal. Drive to Spokane and get it over with. But that’s not really all there is. What we can do is look beyond the short horizon — those shrinking days — to a horizon in the distance. Expanding as far as we need to go in our reach for the good that might be.

Surgery recovery rules may say not to bend, twist, or lift. But they do not limit reaching for hope.