When Nick, the physical
therapist, went to work on my elbow each session, he would stretch,
massage, push, pull, and all but sit on my arm to get it to go
as straight as possible. When he'd done all he could, he'd look at an
assistant and say, “Get the goni!”, and she would come back with
a measuring tool that would tell him quantitatively how successful
his efforts had been. While he continued to hold my arm as straight
as possible she would position the device and read the number off to
him. If he didn't like what he'd heard he'd stretch, massage, push
and pull some more. Sometimes, however, his eyes would light up and
he'd say, “That's the best we've seen yet!”, releasing my arm
(!!!) and moving me on to some kind of strengthening activity.
The device became such a
familiar sight, and I finally asked him what it was called.
“It's a goniometer,” he
said.
A what? I had him
repeat it a couple of times, and later went home and looked it up
online. A goniometer is a tool used to measure angles and is derived
from the Greek words gonia (angle) and metron
(measure). The ones used in this facility had two long flexible arms
attached to a central plastic dial. The dial would be placed at a
joint with the arms laying along the bones on either side, the
central dial giving a reading of the extension achieved...a measure
of success.
I just thought it was a fun
word to say and repeated it to myself often during the session when I
needed a smile. Physical therapy had been a world unknown to me when
I first walked through those doors a couple of months ago. The
exercises, equipment, and hands on muscle manipulation were all
things I had never experienced before, and I found it all pretty
fascinating. This new addition to my vocabulary represented the same
in my life experience, as well.
God will use any new or
challenging situations to teach us life lessons that we couldn't
learn any other way. And the vocabulary we use in talking about them
likewise gives him a clue as to the success of the venture. The words
we choose in our everyday language tell His listening ears if we're
making good progress in the area of focus or need more time under the
Master's hand.
The goniometers at the
facility sat in a pencil cup on a central desk. When Nick called for
one as described above, often it seemed that the aide would grab the
one that had one of its arms broken off, a victim of Nick's habit of
sticking them in his back pocket after use and then later sitting on
the same. Even plastic will only bend so far!
We likewise have choices
tucked in the back pockets of our life experience, and the words we
say determine in part the length of our stay in our situation. We can
pull out a broken response of defeat and discouragement, or
consistently speak life, hope and health into our days. The choice is
ours, but God hopes we'll pick words that will make both of us smile.
“Death and life are in the power of the
tongue...”
