At weddings. At restaurants. At church. At family reunions. At birthday parties. Name an event. Name a place. It’s there. The ball and chain is there. It never stops and it never goes away. When you just fell asleep. When you just sat down to a hot meal. When you just got into a good conversation with a friend. When your kid wants to cuddle with you. The ball and chain wins every.single.time. It owns you. You do what it says and you do it quickly.
Pulse oximeter: a medical device that indirectly monitors the oxygen saturation of a patient’s blood and changes in blood volume in the skin
Translation: ball and chain
My son has been on constant pulse ox monitoring for 11 years, three months, and 17 days. 96, 832 hours the pulse ox has been monitoring him. (Give or take a shower or two.) That’s 96,832 hours my ears have been listening to see if my son needs me. I’ve been on call for some 96,000 hours. For all of this time, Hayden has had a pulse ox on his toe revealing to us what he needs. If he sats too low, he needs more oxygen. If he sats too high, he needs less oxygen. If his heart rate is too high, he may have fever or have distress somewhere in his body. If his heart rate is too low, he may be sleeping too hard and needs to be stimulated. There has been an occasion or two where the pulse ox saturation number read as a dotted line during emergency events while I was actively bagging him, breathing for him to try to keep him alive until the ambulance arrived. But more often, the pulse ox is just there as an appendage reminding us that Hayden is still alive, still breathing, heart still beating.
The pulse ox and I have a love/hate relationship. Essentially, it loves to do its job and do it well; I hate it and cannot stand the sound of it beeping. Yet every time, I get up. I go to it when it calls me. It beckons, and I come running. It is a necessary evil. Its annoying beeps remind me that my son is alive and breathing and that his heart is beating, which is a blessing. I know many, many mommas who would give anything to hear their child’s pulse ox alarming just one more time. And so, I will adjust my posture from one of annoyance, to that of gratefulness that my son and all of his equipment is still here with me, for today. To those mommas out there who no longer have your child’s equipment beckoning you, I honor you. I see you. I respect you. I love you. You and your child are teaching me.
Is there something in your own life that you need to change your posture about? What is it that needs a perspective shift? You can choose that change. Right now, this minute. You get to decide your mindset about it. Is there something in your life that is a constant irritant, but if you could just take a step back you could label it as a blessing rather than a hindrance? Do it. Embrace it now. Don’t let another day pass before you learn to relish the ball and chain.
That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”2 Corinthians 12:10