I watch him every day slowly walk across the room to reach his destination.  Observing the grimacing looks upon his face, he slowly puts on his shoes as to not stimulate any additional foot pain.  As we run various errands, I hear moans every so often beside me while we are strolling.  Sitting together, occasionally grunts from his lips erupt as a sudden, shooting pain pierces his feet.  In the evenings, groans burst forth from the bedroom as he removes his shoes for the final time that day.  I watch daily how my husband suffers with chronic foot pain, and as his wife, I suffer alongside him in how this impacts us as a couple—our routines, our lifestyle, our dreams, etc.—as well as our both growing weary in the battles with acquiring medical intervention.

Reflecting upon this chronic dilemma in my own life has made me consider that the loved ones of our patients may experience similar emotions and concerns.  While rounding on the unit, I find family members sitting vigil at the bedside.  They are reminded of the patient’s struggle from observing all the bedside equipment, possibly hearing moans rising from the lips and seeing looks of agony on the faces as well as in their body movements.  Updates are given by various medical team members, but questions remain unanswered.  With all of this in mind, the loved ones experience a chronic suffering—an emotional suffering of what is happening presently and of what is yet to come.

Father, as we work through our own sufferings as well as help others with theirs, replenish us with Your continued strength and comfort.  In Your name I pray, Amen.