It's Like Our Country Has a Brain Tumor...
“I am so sorry. We found a massive brain tumor. We need to admit your husband to ICU right now and he will be having brain surgery in the next 24 hours.” The ER doctor broke the news to us as best he could. We sat there stunned. Wait, I brought Jon to the ER because he was vomiting and had headaches all weekend. But we thought it was the flu! A brain tumor?!? That was October 3rd, 7 years ago. My husband survived his brain surgery, re-learned how to walk, drink through a straw, throw a ball… They couldn’t remove all of his tumor, though they worked hard at giving us the best possible outcome. Unfortunately, the surgery left my husband deaf in one ear, with facial paralysis on the right side of his face, and trigeminal neuralgia in his right eye. Though the loss of hearing and facial paralysis flipped our life upside down, the trigeminal neuralgia has introduced us to the tragic world of chronic physical pain. Wikipedia describes trigeminal neuralgia as one of the most painful disorders known to medicine. Its nickname is “the suicide disease.”
My husband now lives with this horrific condition, experienced through daily pain in his eye. Most days it is a dull pain that is always there, but every few weeks, the pain spikes. As I type this, we are in the middle of a spike. When it spikes, Jon winces in pain. He has to physically hold his eye shut. It is debilitating. Now please know, the brain tumor thankfully had no effect on my husband’s brain function and personality. He’s a hilarious, smart, talented, wise, kind man. And a total babe. Did I mention he’s a babe? ;) But let’s talk about pain. Pain can steal the best of who he is. When you’re in pain, you don’t want to be around people - especially people who are “hard” for you. You aren’t as fun and social as you usually would be. You are less patient. You’re on edge. You feel frustrated and exasperated.
The other night, Jon was in a full spike. Wincing, holding his eye closed… It broke my heart. I sat, looking at him and thinking about all of our learnings about pain…. And then it hit me.
I stared at him wide eyed and blurted out, “Our nation is in pain.”
He looked at me like I was nuts and said, “Um, ok. We all know it’s crazy right now in our country.”
“No, babe,” I said, “It’s like the country has a brain tumor and it is in pain. Like, your kind of pain. The kind that makes you upset and frustrated. And causes you to not be the best version of yourself.”
You see, living with pain can take your breath away or make you crawl into a ball. But it also can make you easily angered. Annoyed. Sensitive. And irritable.
Our country is in pain. You see it in the online interactions. You see it in the protests. On both sides of All The Issues. You see it in businesses closing. And in the hundreds of thousands of lives lost and the loved ones left behind. You see it in the eyes of people of color. You see it in the eyes of those marching in the streets. You see it in the eyes of police. You see the pain on every news station. Every social media feed. You see it in the depressed. And in the oppressed. You even see it in those who walk around numb and disillusioned. So. much. pain.
What I’ve learned over the past 7 years in my close relationship with pain, is that pain needs to be validated. It needs to be respected. It needs to be loved. And loving someone in pain looks different than loving a healthy person. Loving someone in pain takes extra compassion and kindness and patience. It takes modifications to everyday life. It takes sacrifice. Jon is so self aware and has learned so much about himself through his pain. We have new agreements: As pain begins to spike, we assume specific roles. Jon doesn’t want to be short or impatient with our kids, so if they need something while he’s in pain, I fill that role. It releases him of having to be something he’s not in that moment. It works well for us, and our kids know that if dad’s in pain, mom’s all in. And we just need to give him time and space - and grace.
Our nation needs exactly that. It needs all the “extra” that pain demands. Because when pain isn’t respected, listened to, validated… it compounds. It multiplies and deepens and intensifies.
But how? How do we begin to tend to the wounds represented in every American heart and mind? How do we validate the pain of millions of people on opposite sides of every issue? It may seem a daunting task, but I can tell you firsthand - if you ignore pain, it does not go away.
Pain is no respecter of persons or party lines. It is no respecter of mask wearers or mask boycotters. Ignoring its existence only fuels its fire. When loving a healthy person, you expect a mutual give-and-take. A mutual understanding and respect. When loving a person in pain, you have to be willing to be the only one giving. You have to be the one to hold your tongue. You have to lead with service, not waiting one minute to be served in return.
To love our pain-filled country, we have to be the one to lead in patience. Be the one to sacrifice. The one to give grace. And compassion. And ultimately, to express this through Pause. I don’t mean you have to pause your beliefs or your cause. I don’t mean you have to pause your passion or even your anger. But I do mean you need pause your heart, mind, and mouth. Pause before you speak. Can you state your case without hurling insults at the other person? Can you disagree with their stance while acknowledging they are coming from a place of pain too? Can you pause long enough to look at every person as a human being with intrinsic value? Can you pause to remember they have a family and a name and a life story? Is it possible that our Pause before we speak/act/ type could actually give someone else just enough breath to feel heard? Seen? Validated?
You don’t have to understand someone’s pain to validate it. You don’t have to agree with their pain to acknowledge it exists. What if there was enough pause to make us all feel seen, heard, and loved? What if that pause changed our behavior, and helped apply compassion, kindness, patience, and grace to the wounds? I believe it is possible. And beyond being just a possibility, I believe it is a necessity. And maybe, just maybe, we could actually end up hearing and being heard… to the point of influencing one another for the good, instead of making one another dig our heels in farther. I realize this may sound like a pie in the sky, movie script, “wouldn’t that be nice,” way of thinking. But “What the World Needs Now, is Love Sweet Love,” and “All You Need is Love,” and “Love Lifts us up Where we Belong,” are all epic songs, yes. But they also hold profound truths. We can pretend our only option is fighting and screaming and judging and hating. And we can drown and bury ourselves deeper and deeper. Or we can take our eyes off of our own pain and look at the pain around us, for just a moment. To pause. And see. To feel. To listen. To forgive.
We are not dealing with a healthy America right now. We are dealing with an America in pain. And it needs to be treated as such. And I can tell you from the deepest place of my being: when pain is tended to, there is healing on the other side. It’s worth it, America. I promise. <3