Bodies

I spend a lot of time with bodies that are damaged, broken, harmed. Seeing what can go wrong oftentimes overshadows the biological marvels of the world around me. And there is so much to be thankful for. So much that it's hard to put them into words. The ability we have to stop harm and to help heal is incredible. But it's not without limits. 

I've spent time in ICUs, long term care, hospice, surgical suites, urgent cares, ERs (emergency rooms), and EMS (Emergency Medical Services). And in that time I've been astounded by what we can do. 

Technology, chemistry, our understanding of biology have made it to the point that we can save so many people. We can maintain life through artificial means to a point inconceivable to previous generations. Dialysis, bypass, ECMO. So many wondrous and astounding interventions. But they come at a price.

We can keep a brain dead person alive. We can keep hearts beating when the rest of the body is shutting down. But we cannot stop the death of tissue entirely. We can't provide some kinds of care without inflammation and strain in other bodily systems, tissues, and organs. 

I don't say this to be pessimistic. Because being aware of the fallibility that still exists in the human body is an odd comfort. Because sometimes we see things happen we don't expect, we can't explain. Miracles still happen. 

That very fact gives me hope. I rely so much on research, study, and my personal experience in the trenches to inform me. 

The longer I spend and recognize the infallibility in my own body, the more thankful I am for the opportunities I've had, the greater motivation to do more. 

I've got my own struggles with my body. Traumas that didn't heal properly, scar tissue both on the surface and deeper in the tissues. I've got a gut that absorbs more iron than it should. I have migraines we can't yet explain or control. 

But I can do more to help with that. And I can do more to holistically help my mind. 

That's the truth. My body isn't coming out of life unscathed. None of us are. But I can do more. Be better at protecting and developing my body through this. That's the only hope I have. 

It's the only hope any of us have. Live life to the fullest. Embrace the wonders that our bodies provide. But know, one day it will stop. That's ok. 

Until it's that day I'm going to live a life in wonder and awe of what I can do.

I can see, I can hear, I can run, I can swim, I can jump. Even with the slight limitations I face. I can do so much. My heart beats, my joints bend, my lungs breathe. My muscles build and contract. All of it works together and I'm able to live a life worth living. 

I can see the beauty in my wife and her body. 

I can be awed by my children's growth. 

I have friends who bring me out for activities. 

All of it. 

And I'm so amazed by it all. Like all of us should be.

I can do better. Do more. And I will.