Playful, Pius or Remembered Stuff

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Thursday, January 21, 2010

The rest of the story

When my wife read the last post, she said that I should tell the rest of the story. Yes, there is more to the story, but I thought you were already bored and decided to quit at that point. So here I was with a broken collar bone--in two places, by the way--on New Years Eve. My daughter had girlfriends in the house for a sleepover. My youngest son, Jonathan, was breaking out with chicken pox. Well as God directs providentially, Barbara's parents were about to pay us a visit from Montana. Barbara's father, Russell Piper, was ordained to the ministry in the OPC about 1937. So when they arrived the next day, they were greeted by their daughter at the front door, who announced, "Hi, Daddy. By the way you will be preaching tomorrow."

Meanwhile every time I tried to rise from my bed I experienced sharp pains in my back as though I had pulled muscles or something. It felt good to lie down. I was even reasonably comfortable sitting in a chair with a straight back. But when I would lie down, and get up, ouch! It felt like someone was tearing my back out. I called our family doctor, and he ordered x-rays to see what was the trouble. Someone "read" the pictures to him over the phone, and he immediately called me and said that I should report to the hospital again. It seems that when they originally took pictures of my collar bone, they didn't look far enough, for I had also broken 4 ribs which were displaced by about a half inch. In fact my doctor pushed the panic button because he thought one of my ribs may have punctured a lung. Further examination determined that was not the case, but at least now I had a reasonable explanation of my killer pains. Apparently when I hit the wall of ice with my sled, I must have conked my head and broken my collar bone and displaced those ribs all on the same side. I guess I really needed all that Demerol after all.

By the way, here is a good place for me to testify to the wonder woman qualities of my wife. Little things will get her down. If I raise my voice to her she will cry and I will ruin her whole day. (Maybe that's not so little.) Poverty got her down. A husband who was more often gone than home when she needed me, that was a bummer. She was a trooper through all that. But when crisis struck our lives, she always transformed into wonder woman. I know of few people who can rise to the occasion the way she can. God has wonderfully blessed me with this dear girl for a life companion. She does me good and not evil all the days of our lives together. (Proverbs 31:12)

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