Illnesses - The Real Cause...

What a pathetic sight we must have been! Here we were, at Frimley Park Hospital, in the leafy county of Surrey, which is renowned for its wealthy, well-to-do population, perhaps the English version of Beverly Hills in California, but far less eventful and with a gentler climate.

My wife was an excellent sprinter, who would have left me behind at the start line while dashing to the finish. In turn, my memory was filled with swimming, fast cycling, and running, the three-in-one endurance race known as the Triathlon, with myself being a member of Thames Valley Triathletes between 1985 and 1992 inclusive, with one year as a member of the club's committee, and also the editor of the club's semi-annual magazine, Triangle.

Half Marathon, 1986.

It was during those years of peak physical fitness when, of these three disciplines, cycling was the dominant one. This included the 300-mile 483 km Newcastle-to-Reading sponsored cycle in less than three days, with some from our club alongside members of the Reading Lions. This was the inspiration for the End-to-End cycling accomplished a year later in 1990. The real difference between the two separate trips was while the Newcastle-Reading ride was fast, the End-to-End, which was completed in eleven days, was tedious, due to carrying our own luggage on our bikes instead of having a service van as was the case of the other.

What more can I say when it comes to a hilly hike along the West Coast Path, also along the Hadrian's Wall trail from Carlisle to Newcastle, or those lovely trecks across the Lake District, including looking down from "the Throne of England" (Scafell Pike) - not to forget the Manhatten City Hike or the Grand Canyon trails from rim to river.

Memories, memories - are they a source of joy or a source of torment? And so I was thinking as I sat in a wheelchair whilst wheeled by a porter from one department to another. Feeling melancholic as I endured intense pain at the knee joint. After an X-ray, the doctor came back to me to say that I have arthritis.

This was quite a shock! I have always interpreted this ailment as "an old man's disease." Arthritis is when the cartilage at the joint between two bones has worn thin until the gap - in my case, between the femur and the tibia - becomes narrower until the two bones threaten to touch. So the doctor tells me.

I was very concerned! Is normal living over? Will I be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of my life? Will I suffer sharp knee pains until I can have surgery? And being an elective, non-life-threatening procedure, most likely having to wait months, only for the op to be cancelled on the day.

How did this happen? Well, it occurred while I was preparing to exercise in the gym. I was approaching the rowers when all of a sudden there was this unexpected sharp and intense pain. I leaned on a nearby elliptical, trying to steady myself. I found that I was unable to stand up, let alone walk. Eventually, one of the gym's instructors saw me in such a state and along with her colleague, I was examined and an ambulance was called. In front of all the other patents using gym equipment, I was wheelchaired out of the gym to board an ambulance waiting for me outside.

Was it a coincidence that my knee gave way on the same day when Alex my beloved happen to have an appointment at the same hospital to have a cyst treated? After my knee was X-rayed and diagnosed, I was free to go when my wife arrived at the outpatient's department, having been given a lift by the same gym instructor who dealt with me that morning. After her ailment was examined by a consultant, it was decided for treatment straight away. That is, after a two-hour wait for her to digest the lunch she just had as well as being at the back of the queue of patients, all in need of day surgery.

It was during this two-hour wait when I allowed thoughts to pass through my mind. I dreaded life in a wheelchair or of constant use of crutches. Especially as a carer myself, I cannot afford to be incapacitated. Here we were, husband and wife, each in a wheelchair, next to each other. One has already received a diagnosis with no treatment on the horizon, the other also diagnosed and actually waiting for treatment.

Where have we come since our wedding day very nearly two decades earlier? Life in a wheelchair or on crutches? No more swimming? No more gym? No more walking and no more cycling? No more this or no more of that? The very thought brought shivers. It was a moment of blasted hope, a dread, the loss of independence. For example, for the church, I would have to rely on the generosity of others to give me a lift every week instead of trusting in my own two-wheeled steed. I kept on thinking. It could have been a lot worse. 

I remember hearing or reading stories of auto-crashes. If the driver or passenger survives, then he's likely to suffer paralysis from the neck downwards. Whether it's from a car accident, or from an act of daring stupidity, for the spine to break at the neck is the worst possible injury one could ever suffer. Permanent paralysis of the whole body from the chin down. Only today I read in a newspaper about this noted golfer, in his mid-twenties, who was away on holiday. He was visiting a water theme park which featured fast and daring flumes. So he stood at the top of one and decided to slide headfirst. Apparently, at the splash pool, he hit the bottom with such force that he broke his neck. After he was rescued and hospitalised, he is now permanently paralysed.

I try to put myself in his shoes. Just moments earlier I was in good health, fully mobile, independent, happy and living a normal life. Then this happens. All of a sudden, in one fell swoop, I lose everything except my life. The agony, the terrifying prospect of life in a wheelchair, completely immobile, and in need of constant full-time care, including being spoon-fed like a baby. What dread this would be! Realising that never again would I enjoy the freedom of mobility and independence I took so much for granted. If only I could turn back the clock, even by just a few minutes! I would have altered my fate by sliding feet-first, or even descend the steps if those behind me would let me through.

It was by realising the reality of such injuries, whether it's the patient's fault or the result of somebody else's error or an act of stupidity, that has brought me to my senses. What I had was a knee injury due to a life of wear and tear. I was not at all paralysed. Compared to total paralysis, what I have is a minor ailment, one I might cope with on a better level. Yet, as I sat and waited for Alex to be called in, I couldn't help but think about how I have taken all my blessings for granted. The ability to see, to hear, to speak, to walk, to run, cycle, swim. The ability to use my arms for all manner of tasks, including eating. The ability to kick a ball. Also, I was always endowed with the ability to read and write as well as to work out mathematical problems. All these things I took for granted and hardly ever gave these things a second thought. I also looked back to my days of travel, when it was quite easy to arrive at the airport to take off for a far-away destination. If left immobile, I would cry out for a revival of those glorious days. Indeed, to put me in the place of the former golfer would have brought terror! 

Aloud enough for Alex to hear, I began to recite this:

The Lord is my shield and my strength, my rock, and a strong tower, into it the righteous run and they are saved.

I began to feel my spirit rise as I began to thank God for everything I have taken for granted. And then I began to edify Alex, not to allow her faith in her God to fail. After this, I rose and fully supported by a pair of crutches, I tried walking. Despite the feeling of discomfort, I was able to manage some steps - a big improvement from the gym that morning and a source of greater hope - that life will return to normal. Today, while this blog is written, I took breaks and found that I can walk a few steps entirely without the need for crutches and without discomfort.

This leads me to believe that life will return to normal, but knowing that I have arthritis, I am now aware that my knee can suffer again in the future. The pain is imminent, it can come suddenly, at any moment. Whether walking, cycling, in the gym or even in the swimming pool, or during a church service, or while sitting in a train, or as a passenger in a friend's car, my leg can convulse in sudden, sharp pain. If such pain can literally immobilise me, like it did in the gym, then the situation can be catastrophic!

Really, by comparison to others, I'm not an old man. I have a friend in church who is two years my senior, yet his health is enviable. Therefore, at this point, I would like to ask: What has led me to such a state, and for that matter, Alex's illnesses?

Here I'm talking about illnesses which have developed on a gradual basis rather than by an accident. According to one Christian doctor with a lifetime of experience, nearly all illnesses are caused by an upset mind.* This GP has named nearly a hundred illnesses which are linked by an upset mind harbouring negative emotions. Emotions such as fear, persistent worry, excess stress, prolonged anger and bitterness, along with unforgiveness, constantly bearing a grudge against the wrongdoer.

Diseases such as cancer, heart attacks, strokes, alimentary canal disorders, circulatory disorders, disorders of the genito-uninary system, and nervous disorders are just a few types of illness which can be caused by harbouring unhealthy emotions towards someone, a group of people or an unfavourable circumstance. This doctor points out that the two adrenal glands, each one sitting on each the two kidneys, are responsible for many illnesses, as these glands produce the hormone adrenaline. Normally, adrenaline is a life preserver when coping with alarm. For example, when under threat of danger, adrenaline triggers a sudden fight-or-flight response. One true story is that of an adolescent who was with his father under his car as he was maintaining it. Suddenly the jack gave way, and as the car threatened to crush the father underneath it, the lad, in fright, was able to lift the car so his dad can crawl out from under it.

When the lad tried to lift the car again under peaceful circumstances, he wasn't able to budge it whatsoever. Here, adrenaline had its proper purpose. It was to enable the lad to act in an emergency.

But negative emotions cause the two glands to constantly secrete adrenaline. Emotions such as fear, anxiety and anger are the chief negative emotions along with hatred and bitterness. This cause higher-than-normal amounts of the hormone to be constantly pumped into the bloodstream, which will eventually upset the delicately balanced systems which maintain the body's health.

But we don't have to rely on a book to see for ourselves. We have the experience. Take me for instance. For several years the Big Three was the main cause for fear and anxiety. The Big Three are Brexit, Alex's health, and Future Financial issues. By allowing myself to worry over these issues has allowed adrenaline to constantly infiltrate my bloodstream. This has accelerated the wearing down of the cartilage lining the knee joint, bringing arthritis at a comparatively early age. That was why only this morning, while I was hobbling to Starbucks on a pair of crutches, I was overtaken by a man walking without any aid and who looks to be in his seventies.

This was confirmed by a recent newspaper report that those with a pessimistic temperament are more likely to fall ill at an earlier age than the natural optimistic, and probably die earlier too. But really, I have to admit my lack of faith in God. As I see it, Brexit is more likely a judgement from God rather than redemption or blessing. This is due to the nationwide rejection of God and the dismissal of the historical truth of the Bible, to embrace a lie. Personally, a nation which rejects God is not likely to be blessed.

Hence my anxiety, leading to arthritis. And here, I'm not blameless. Rather, I need to nourish and strengthen my faith in God's goodness, which would give me peace during such turbulent times. Faith in God is the only hope which will hold out in these last days.

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*S. I. McMillen M.D. None of these Diseases, 1966, 1980, Lakeland Paperbacks.

God's Promises Will Stand.

A few days ago I requested an appointment to see a Doctor at our local surgery, for two issues. The first was that of a development of a bruise on my upper arm, a solid black circle about an inch in diameter, which had formed for no apparent reason, since being over the bicep area, a site unlikely to receive any blows or other forms of external injury. Despite the total lack of pain accompanying the bruise, my wife was more alarmed at the site than I was, and pleaded me to see the G.P. The other issue was at the base of the left foot, just above the ankle, when around mid-afternoon onward, a sharp searing pain envelopes the joint, making the use of the ladder at work very difficult indeed, as well as having to limp along instead of walking properly.

Perhaps there is that masculine trait in me about not wanting to see the doctor. Basically, I have that hunch about wasting the G.P's time, when he has other patients with far more serious complaints to deal with. Yes, I have read posters about people crowding the Accident and Emergency department of a hospital, even for something as trivial as a headache, but wasting valuable N.H.S. resources is something I was determined to stay clear of. After all, I don't want either myself or others around to see me as a whiny wimp who runs to the Doctor every time I cough, belch or fart. But the reason for my wife's concern about the bruise was because I take an anticoagulant medicine on a regular daily basis, which I must for the rest of my life, or risk suffering a stroke. On the leaflet which comes with every packet of pills, under possible side effects, I was warned to see a Doctor straight away if bruising occurs, short of an external injury. I suppose there was something about not visiting the Doctor, despite my wife's pleas. Perhaps it was not wanting to receive a telling-off from such a professional, instead to be told to man up, don't be so whiny, and stop wasting his time.

Like about twelve months previously, when I woke up about two or three o'clock in the morning gasping for air, like a man who had just ran a foot-race and crossed the finish line. This, together with rumbling of the chest and feeling of a drowning sensation, which threefold symptom repeated itself night after night for a couple of weeks. Back then, my dear wife persuaded me to visit the Doctor, even when I believed it was nothing more than a bug which would eventually get fed up and leave. But she won the argument, and I reluctantly went, only to be eventually diagnosed with a heart problem and in need of an operation to put it right. Whiny indeed!

So it came as not a surprise when I called at the surgery's reception, only to be told that there was no appointment available that day, and all time slots were fully booked up. And that was not even on a Monday or a Friday when the surgery is particularly busy. Instead, by submitting my mobile phone number to Reception, the Doctor would contact me as soon as possible. And so he did. He called me in to have a blood test done straight away, for I might have gone over the limit with the anticoagulants, making my blood "too thin" - hence the cause of the bruising. As for my foot problem, I gave an accurate description of the symptoms as I possibly could have done. He seemed rather familiar with the complaint, for he came back with Arthritis as the cause of the problem. Arthritis! The "old man's illness" as it is so traditionally believed. What amazes me was that as recently as eighteen months previously I was considering the possibility of working right up to my seventieth birthday, as I felt on top of the world, even though milder symptoms of arthritis in the feet were already being felt. But back then, I thought all these were a passing phase. 

Things look so different now. With such a recent cardiac procedure, a lifetime on medicine, and now arthritis in the feet to contend with us well, I have arrived at the crossroads for early retirement. But not just for my health's sake but that of my wife as well. During the three months convalescence, one thing which has added further joy and strength to our marriage was my role of carer, and I won't beat about the bush here, but I thoroughly enjoyed it, and the return to work I saw more of a set back rather than progress. Maybe, as one of our church elders had put it; it is time for me to retire from work to spend more time together, and to enjoy the rich blessings God has for us. However, for what I can see and have experienced over the last few years, our Doctor's surgery has always been very busy, with patients of all ages, gender, and social class packing the waiting room in front of Reception.

And where we live is at a typical middle-class suburbia. We have neighbouring streets where not only every home is a detached house with private front and back gardens, but with average ownership of two to three cars. Around here people are generally well-off, and have professional careers, yet the number of busy surgeries dotted around the district testifying that the health of our nation isn't that great. And we are not even the worst. Nearer to London there was a media report on one surgery that was so busy, that patients literally queuing up outside the doors, with a hope of seeing a doctor face-to-face on the same day. Not to mention Accident and Emergency departments of all hospitals across the land where the average waiting time is four hours per patient.

It makes me ponder why, in such a rich country, there is such a high rate of illness and the need for treatments. Even I can testify of a two-week delay with my own cardiac procedure, due to the intensive care ward being chock-a-block, and therefore receiving two cancellation notices, each a week apart, prior to the operation. As I have mentioned in earlier blogs, the combined emotion of worry, anger, and fear are the "big three" health-wrecking emotions, together with the feeling of frustration, along with the British perception of sharing emotional talk as weak and unmanly. Uncertainty of the future is one of the major cause of anxiety, as in my case, as well as not being sure which direction our present Government is leading our country.

Fear is the biggest enemy to health, and it comes with various levels such as terror, worry, and anxiety. Fear of the future - the fear of job loss, prolonged unemployment, illness, the threat of poverty, ending up in a Civil Court over a dispute about benefits, failure in mortgage or rent payments, or anything which threatens our peace. All these can make a strong person end up as a hospital patient. As retirement is very close to my mind at the moment, would our present Government move the goalposts, forcing me to work for an income until a later age? Would they do away with Housing Benefit, a wonderful godsend for those tenants struggling with high rents? And so-to-speak, would our leaders snap a whip across my back to get me to work into old age, even while physically impaired, so that the rich can be spared from paying too high taxes, if any taxes at all? Should I feel pity, if not deep anxiety for my daughters' future? What kind of a world are we handing over to them?

Yet despite all this doom and gloom, there is a wonderful source of hope!

One of our wedding songs sang during the church ceremony was Father God. The first verse goes like this:

Father God I wonder how I managed to exist without the knowledge of your parenthood and your loving care? Now I am you son, I am adopted in your family, and I can never be alone 'cause Father God, you're there beside me.

This was sang by us and by the congregation at our wedding, and to me at least, it's one of the most assuring songs ever written, and it is my wife's favourite. The chorus goes:

I will sing your praises! I will sing your praises! I will sing you Praises! For evermore -

And this is repeated as many times as one desires.

And this song is based on the surety of God's promises, as well as through day-to-day living. One of the best examples of this took place in the Garden of Eden, at the dawn of history. Immediately after the Fall of Adam and Eve, God passes judgement (Genesis 3:14-19) which contains the promise that the serpent's head will be bruised by the seed of the woman, who in turn will have his heel bruised in the process - verse 15 - which is a good description of the Crucifixion, death and Resurrection of Jesus Christ. Then the calling of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, through whom the seed is promised. The institution of the Jewish Passover further endorses this promise, which comes up repeatedly throughout prophecy, such as Psalm 22, Isaiah 53, and Zechariah 9:9, and many more. God's promise to restore Israel as a nation in the future from this point of time is assured, particularly in Isaiah chapters 11 and 66, Jeremiah chapters 30 and 31, Ezekiel chapters 36 and 37, and Zechariah chapters 10 -14. All of these promises, and many more, are solid-rock certain, they will be fulfilled. Therefore if God is all sovereign, and he is fully omniscient as well as omnipotent and omnipresent, then surely not only does he have the whole world in his hands, but the very exact number of days we have has already been determined by him. He knows our thoughts, our feelings, our joy and our anxieties. He already knows what we will say and do in the future even before any of them come to pass.

As one of the sermons I have listened to in recent weeks, God knows best, and everything which happens to us works for the good for those who love him, that is to say, for every believer. But this does not leave us without any choice. For Peter himself writes in his letter:

Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you 1 Peter 5:7.

That is a promise that I should look upon in times like these. God cares for me. So if I want to retire two years before the official age, why shouldn't I? Why shouldn't I revel in the goodness and blessing of God while caring for my lame wife, and adding further strength, romance, and sparkle into our marriage? I think God has already said "Yes" to such a move. Signs seem to point to this. So why not? Should I accept "slave status" from the present Government simply because I happen to be working class, poorly educated, and a mere average earner, as opposed to being a rich company executive or a celebrity? No, I won't accept such a status! Instead, I'll go by what God has said of me, that as a true believer, I am his, I am adopted into his family, and I can never be alone to face a cruel world. It can be said that the world may go as far as kill my body, but it can never change my mind.