Today I helped fill our ward’s Bishop’s Storehouse assignment. I wasn’t sure what we’d be doing, and whether or not it would be something I could do, but I knew I was available. Besides, what would be the harm if I got there and they needed us to read fine print while doing jumping jacks and singing? I could just excuse myself, right?
Fortunately, we just filled orders and re-stocked shelves. The Church welfare program is so awesome in the storehouse endeavor. Reading the order form took some effort but it wasn’t too bad. My first order was a whopper and it took me about 30 minutes, partly just finding the right product. Everyone else was working more quickly, but I reminded myself that it wasn’t a race.
When I began filling my second order, I noticed my familiar foe of fatigue setting in. I wasn’t sleepy, but my coordination and balance started eroding. This was not taxing work, but I guess it raised my body temperature enough that my feet stopped responding correctly. Great. I was in no particular hurry, but I did not want to create a spectacle. I found a chair at the front of the store and started taking little breaks, pretending to be studying the order form. Well, part of it wasn’t pretend because my eyesight worsened too.
This order was even bigger than the first one so the cart started getting really heavy. This was a blessing in that it provided a more sturdy support for leaning! When I get “exertion fatigue” I have a hard time even standing upright. I start slowly falling forward. It is so weird.
OK, I knew this wasn’t a race but I was taking really long time. But I needed a little break. I sat down for a few minutes but it is hard to loaf in such a productive environment. My cart only lacked toothpaste, raisins, strawberry jam and 18 rolls of TP. C’mon dude! Stand up and just grab the jam and the raisins, then come back and sit for a minute. I know, chronic illness, blah, blah, blah. But it is 25 feet away and you are 43, not 93 for crying out loud. Well, I did it, jam and raisins were safely in the cart but I barely made it back to my gerontology chair.
OK, the non-food items are on the last aisle, I encouraged myself. I could do this! Just don’t make a scene; it isn’t fair to everyone else.
I rested but I was berating myself pretty good. I realized that I didn’t need to be a hero; I could just ask someone else to finish my list, oh but wait, I can’t talk. Well, barely. Just do it, you wimp! It is toothpaste and toilet paper, not the gosh dang Crusades. Get up and finish the order! I used my laden cart as a walker and got the toothpaste but while loading the TP my legs staged a little coup d’etat. (They don’t care if I’m almost done; they were.) I slumped over my cart heavily and then somehow found the strength to grab the last two rolls. I set them on top of the burgeoning pile. Then one roll fell off. Big problem. Gravity was only one-way for me at the moment. Fortunately my friend Michelle was standing nearby and noticed the errant roll and picked it up for me. I think she also noticed that I was laboring to stay upright and she accompanied me the few steps to the cart drop-off place.
Now I just had to return the clipboard up front, but without my “walker.” If I could only get back I could sit down and cool off. 20 minutes and I would be fine. It was at this point that I did the most difficult thing I had to do all day. Michelle asked if I needed her to help me walk back. Everything inside my head screamed “No!” but better sense prevailed and I sheepishly said “Yeah, I think I do.” She held me up as we began our 80 foot sojourn. I can get so pathetic! Half way there my friend Tim jumped in to help. So much for not creating a scene.
It’s not wounded pride; it’s just that if I had been a bit more careful I could have done it. When will I learn?
The senior missionaries offered to get me water or a banana. It was not a matter of blood sugar or hydration. I was not faint. I just had to rest for a spell. I did, and after lunch I had relatively little trouble with the meat orders or re-stocking shelves. But I know everyone kept an eye on me.
I enjoyed myself, and am glad I went, but I am acutely aware that my scant production did not outweigh the burden of concern that I levied on the party, and for that I am sorry.
10 comments:
I love this post, as it helps me to better understand the physical and mental barriers you have to deal with daily. As I read, I couldn't help but think that I would have had the exact same mentality as you, and I can see how it could be so difficult to be patient with yourself.
The only thing I wanted to add is that you should not be worried about the "burden" of concern you created. Love is not a burden. It is a blessing and privilege and honor. Their concern was of love and strengthened their spirits.
Don't you dare be sorry that others, who love you, stepped in to help. You were THERE! I think back over the years when I was responsible for getting ward members to the Cannery or the Pear Farm or the Bishops' Storehouse and it was like pulling teeth sometimes. I learned that the best way to get a room full of men to suddenly start studying their shoelaces is to ask for volunteers or pass around a sign-up sheet. Once in the late 60's in Bell Ward, the only people I could get to go to the cannery was the bishop, me and the 2nd counselor! You are wonderful and faithful and I am your father and I ought to know! Carry on, my son, carry on.
You are right, both of you. I am certain that those that helped me didn’t mind one bit. Not only are they friends, but these are the “salt of the earth” folk, the ones who did volunteer. Some even were missing work to be there. I understand that with my condition I am not going to be Mr. Productivity; I’m OK with that. I was only bemoaning the fact that my own selfish reticence to pay better heed to those limits resulted in a little “scene” that was avoidable.
As Logan said, it was a glimpse into a frequent mental battle I have. I know that self-castigation over limitations is foolish and potentially counter-productive, but it is difficult to harness. Like my jogging, I just need to find the right balance between exertion and over-exertion (or between pushing myself and pavement!)
amazing! Can I steal this for one of my lessons?
Rachel, of course, but I can't imagine how. You surely are well beyond "Not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength" and "Compelled to be humble."
As I read this post I considered the widow's mite.
Similarities: nominal contribution and a very high percentage of available resources
Differences: I don't remember that if she had only rested a bit more often that she would have had a lot more to give. Also, she wasn't self-published!
As I read your post, my heart swelled with gratitude for Michelle and Tim for being there, noticing a need, and doing something about it. And I agree with Logan, about it being a blessing to them.
A couple of weeks ago I was running late for basketball and Steve asked me if I would make sure the garden was watered that morning. I told him I would, and figured 10:30 a.m. is still morning, but I knew that he really wanted it done at 8:30 a.m. so I made the choice to be even later to basketball and watered the garden. Anyway, as I was racing to basketball I noticed that someone was laying in the gutter on Walnut. I quickly pulled over and raced out of my car to see if I could help. It was an older gentleman in our ward who has recently had some medical concerns. He was out walking with his walker, lost control and fell over. He said to me, "I fell off my horse!" and I was overcome with sadness, mixed with relief that he was not in greater peril. I helped him get up on his feet again and noticed blood on his face where his glasses met the side of his head. I started to walk him home and when we got about two houses away, he told me that he was okay and could make it now. I sensed that he needed some independence and left him with an overwhelming sense of gratitude that I was able to help in some small way. I know I gained more from the experience than he did.
You continue to be a hero of mine. I can't even imagine the challenges you face is trying to balance out accomplishment with ability. We love you and pray for you daily.
My lesson is on enduring to the end faithfully. I'm using it. The good news is that they will all remember who I am talking about....the guy who didn't quite have stage 4 cancer!!
You are baiting me, but I'm not biting. I told you that I'm not going to make fun of that anymore!
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