Saturday, July 7, 2007

...And the cast comes off

The day finally arrived - the cast on my daughter's arm was scheduled to be removed. She was incredibly excited about it and announced it to all of her summer camp friends, counselors, neighbors and anyone else who happened to listen. After this, she'd be able to participate in the camp activities she'd missed out on - swimming, mini-golf and go-carts. At the doctor's office, she hopped around like a jumping bean.

We were lucky to have a doctor with a great personality who joked with her during the procedure. I think we were both expecting
a frightening, high-pitched buzz saw. But, the little tool really sounded more like a vacuum cleaner motor and was completely benevolent.

Since I've never had a broken bone that required a cast, it was fascinating for me to watch this process. How the saw the cut through the fiberglass so easily. How the pliers cracked it open like an egg. How her arm was lifted out like a precious little treasure. I was startled to see how tiny and fragile it looked. When I applied lotion to the dry, flaky skin, I felt like I was handling a delicate piece of porcelain.

How amazing it is that these bones of ours can be placed into hard shells to heal. That within these hard shells our skin starts to wither, our muscles begin to atrophy. My daughter's arm was tender after the cast was removed. It was hard for her to move it around. It ached. She asked that I wrap it at night to keep it warm and still.

I remember someone
once telling me that it's baffling that humans continue to thrive in this world. With all that can injure and harm us, we still have survived millions of years. We need a certain amount of food and water daily, a certain level of oxygen to breathe. We can't be exposed to extreme temperatures for too long. We have learned to avoid poisonous plants and dangerous animals. We have discovered the right level of immunizations to cure deadly diseases.

At the bookstore recently, I found a book for my daughter on the solar system. Every time I see the lineup of the planets, I am amazed. Nestled within the lifeless orbs that circle the sun it this perfect little beautiful ball of blue and white, shining like a beacon in space. When I was little, I watched a TV program called "The Big Blue Marble" and I think that describes the planet perfectly. How incredible that life thrives on this planet, out of all the planets that we know of. It is a miraculous thought.

Are we simply lucky to be alive? It is just coincidence that, in this world spinning through space, life flourishes in the light of the sun? I think there is
a deeper mystery to the perfect balance in our world. There is a reason we are here, that we have survived for all this time. There is a reason that we can heal after being broken. That a small little arm weakly emerging from it's protective shell can grow strong again. So strong that it can swim and play and drive a go-cart.

Ernest L. Woodward was quoted as saying:

So great has been the endurance, so incredible the achievement, that,
as long as the sun keeps a set course in heaven, it would be foolish to despair of the human race.


So I celebrate the wondrous gifts of this world. I give thanks for the miracles that occur every minute of every day. I relish this life and marvel at its beauty.

2 comments:

Donna Longenecker said...

I'm so glad she made it through this, and you too. Miracles do happen!

Galen's manspace said...

Jen,
Such a entharlling story you could fall into it and happy to see that Miss Madison is back on her merry way. B-well. PaPa