What I am about to reveal to you is not an idle boast, but neither is it something to be proud of. For more than twenty months my wife, Nell, and I have enjoyed the pleasure that only comes from perfect physical and mental health. I’m not ashamed of that, but at the same time I’ve recently learned not to be proud of it to the point of loudly proclaiming, “BRING ON YOUR GERM WARFARE, I AM IMPERVIOUS TO BUGS!”
This was a lesson that did not come easily. I’m finally now recovering from a virus that’s had me laid low for the past two weeks; or as you Brits would say, a fortnight— fourteen full days and nights of absolute misery. I know now, however, I had it coming to me. Enjoying great health is one thing; rubbing it into the noses of those who are sick is quite another, and I’m afraid I was getting to that point.
Whenever we would hear that one of our friends had caught a bug and then gave it to the rest of his family, we would naturally be reminded of the healthy life we were enjoying with MaxGXL. But instead of thinking, “There, but for the grace of God, go I,” we tried to never miss a chance to share that thought on a Get-Well card. It took getting sick and passing it on to Nell for me to realize how callous I was becoming. I had forgotten what it felt like to be sick. All of my friends know, well enough, that Nell and I promote MaxGXL as the answer to any health problem that could have been fended off by a stronger immune system. Wanting to remind them of that, while they are sick, borders on what you might want to do to a forgetful puppy when he’s had an accident on the rug.
Seeing my poor wife in her misery, my heart went out to her. I was guessing she might have gotten a bit lax in taking her MaxGXL regularly. That may have been the case, but the compassion and empathy I was feeling kept me from mentioning it to her. That was the start of my lesson. The rest of it came when I remembered that I was just as sick as she was. Had I also gotten lax with the Max? Well, maybe— just a little. But there had to be something else involved. I had forgotten what it felt like to be sick. Would I have been as compassionate with her were I not suffering as much as she was? I needed that reminder.
June Carter once told a story on her husband, Johnny Cash; about how she caught him one night before a show, strutting like a peacock in front of the full-length mirror in their dressing room. Being a kind and supportive wife, she wanted to suggest that he might be losing some of the humility that had so endeared him to his fans from the start. She was still trying to find just the right words to broach the subject when a knock on the door said it was time to get out on-stage. They were a great team together and this night was no exception. The show ended to a standing ovation and two curtain calls. There might have been three but during the second one, with Johnny bowing broadly and deeply from center stage, a rip was heard, his face turned beet-red, and he had to back out between the curtains.
Three minutes later in the dressing, June could see that he was visibly upset over being embarrassed in front of the crowd sand was threatening to take it out on the wardrobe people for making his pants too tight. She thought about what she had seen before the show, looked him square in the eye and said, “Don’t blame them, Hon, it was the Good Lord who split your britches tonight.”
I guess we can all get a little too big for our britches sometimes. If you ever get to feeling so proud of yourself for having the sense to use MaxGXL that you lose compassion for those not as fortunate; or so proud of the good health you enjoy, that you forget to thank the one who provides everything we need to live healthy lives, even in this polluted world— well, don’t be surprised if you someday get your britches split.
So, lets call this a two-fold lesson: 1st, Never get lax with your Max, — 2nd, Never forget who to thank for it!
Nice article.
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