Ken Okazaki Blogging is serious business


You Don’t Know Pain

This morning I got a call from school asking me to come right away. My son, Makoto was hurt. From the tone of the voice on the phone I could tell that it was serious. My wife and I rushed to the school to see him.

We found him in the medical room holding his arm and crying in pain. There were two teachers trying to comfort him. His right arm was loosely wrapped in gauze, and tied in a sling around his neck. Next to him on the floor was his school-bag and hat, ready to go with him. They told us that he had fallen from a climbing frame and that he might have broken his arm.

I carried him to the car and drove to the nearest orthopedist, who right away could tell his arm was broken. After unwrapping the gauze it was obvious to the untrained eye that it was a bad break. He seemed to have a second elbow between his wrist and elbow, with his wrist pointing up at about a 45 degree angle. This sight gave me a sick feeling in my stomach, as I tried to remain calm and comfort my crying son. Natacha tried to explain to him that the doctor would have to straighten his arm in order for it it heal properly. After the X-rays we could see that both his radius and ulna had snapped completely through.

The next part was the most difficult. I had to hold him on my lap as the doctor and nurse used a large amount of force to pull apart and straighten the bones in his arm. This took about two minutes, and all the while I held my son and listened to him scream uncontrollably in excruciating pain like I've never experienced before. My wife had to leave the room as the scene was too much for her to take.

I cried.

I never wanted to see my own child suffer so much pain. I felt the pain he was suffering as he clenched my thumb with his little fist. I cried the tears he cried as he screamed in pain. I wished I could do it in his place, that somehow, me suffering the same pain would make him get better--but I couldn't.

By the time they had finished setting the bones, and making a cast for his arm, he had gotten over the pain. It seemed to disappear magically, and he even managed to crack a smile at the doctor and thank him.

Leaving the clinic, I found a renewed respect for him. He's my hero. Even though he didn't choose to break his arm or to suffer that pain, he went through it bravely, manifested when he smiled and thanked the doctor only minutes after he had caused him what was probably the severest pain he ever felt in his life.

You don't know pain until you've suffered it. You don't know pain until you've felt it through the one you love.

Isaiah 53:4-5 (KJV)
Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted.
But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.