1864 words about 139 days
On March 3rd, one hundred and thirty nine days ago, I had a sore throat and fever. Four days later I could not move my arms. I could not open the cereal or the milk carton, I could not put socks on my feet or pull a t-shirt over my head. I could not cup my hand to hold water.
The next morning, with the airwaves full of news of the Tsunami in Japan, I began the long journey of my own tsunami of tests and medical care. Just like the rescue workers gathering in the Far East, I had my own rescue team gathering. My kids and grandson swooped in to tend my every need. The phone calls began to the doctors and more family and the blessings began too.
The covering neurologist was just the right combination of knowledge and compassion as he guided me through the first night and the days to come until " my" neurologist - an incredible, kind, German doctor with a heart as big as his hands - returned and took over.
It would take weeks but my arms got a little bit stronger and I could do a little bit more for myself while I waited for a diagnosis and plan.
Then the verdict was delivered.
On May 5th, seventy six days ago, I had finally found the surgeon who I could "let" operate on my neck. It was big surgery; neurosurgery; and I needed it to be the right someone. Like an angel her picture came floating up on the computer screen under my insurance. She is an amazing woman who, 14 years ago, operated on my late husband. She had gained my complete trust then and I prayed she would agree to do the surgery on me. She did and the blessings continued. My security blanket nurse friends cleared their schedules and we were on our way.
At first, it was just as expected. Miserable. But, I was surrounded by my own team of pros and loved ones and the healing began. I came home, started PT, did my exercises faithfully and found it astounding that the incision could cause so little discomfort so quickly. Soon, I was up and about and thought the worst was behind me.
Thirty three days ago I woke feeling like a train was bearing down on me and my job was to outrun it.
I ran. I ran as fast as I could. I ran for hours while I talked to my daughters and cried until the train disappeared. It returned the next morning – and for many mornings after that. The worst had just begun.
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Family practice is a unique field of medicine. It is intimate. It is clinical and scientific with names and faces linked together. Family practice is the kind of medicine where when “ your” doctor looks at you – he sees you. He knows when you are in trouble – and he cares. Familiarity coupled with caring. – as in “care giver” and “care receiver”. I have that kind of family doctor.
Faith is remarkable. Faith is the certainty that even when you are running from the train, you are not alone. It is the sure knowledge that you do not need to be able to speak to have your needs known; the unshakable belief that the Lord will provide even when there is no understanding of what that will look like or how terrible it might feel.
Family is love. Family is who will run alongside the train with you until it disappears and be there with you when it returns. Family draws a circle around you and keeps you from falling in the pit of despair. Family puts their own lives aside and take up yours when you can’t take care of yourself. They remind you to eat, stay near so you can sleep, send money, tell you it will all be OK when “OK” is not any longer imaginable. And they believe in you. They believe you will get better and they tell you every day that they love you so much that their lives can wait- even when they have just reunited after a deployment and could finally be together in their own home, or are expecting a new baby, or starting their own business or already have two or three jobs and lawns to mow. They still find time for you and time to mow your lawn too. Family is always there to open a zip lock bag when you can’t.
Friends are the salt of the earth. Friends support your family, drive a hundred miles for doctor appointments, bring fresh eggs, rice pudding, chicken soup. They give the dog a bath when your kids are too busy taking care of you. Friends send poems and write letters. Friends bring you Sally paper dolls that say, "I love you." , and “you can do this” and “we will help you.”
Friends care too. Some friends care too much to be able to be close. It is simply too hard. They have to care from a distance when they cannot fix what is wrong but they are the ones who are there when you get better. They know what the puzzle looks like without the cover so you need them when it is time to get put back together. They never really leave you, they just wait their turn to help. They are invaluable. They are like sisters and brothers.
Friends from your family of faith are indispensible. They bring prayer and comfort and tissues. They know the value of pedicures and hair cuts, and new underpants; the sparkly ones and polka dotted ones. Yup – the church friends do that stuff. That is called "prayer in action". They clean your house and bring peanut butter when it is the only thing you know you need. They are un-afraid of despair and tears because they, too, have faith and they, too, know you are not alone. They surround you with the light of love and mercy and grace and unburden you from your earthly concerns so you can rest in the Lord. And they clap when you are well enough to return to worship. They clap. Imagine.
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I have had the most amazing care givers in the last one hundred and thirty nine days.
From the neurologist to the doctor who pointed out that the train had passed. He told me it had hit me head on, and made quite a mess when it did, but it was gone and I was still here. I could stop running. Amazing. I could just stop running, lie still and get put back together. He told me to let the people who cared about me keep caring for me. That was twenty nine days ago.
Physicians, Surgeons, Anesthesiologists, Nurses, Pharmacists, Acupuncturists, Physical Therapists (God bless the Physical Therapists and their patience with me! )
And medical personnel were only a small part of the team who tenderly tended me.
A mother and aunt, the most tender of them all. Sons and daughters and daughters and sons in law. Brothers and their partners. Grandchildren and nieces and nephews. A Goddaughter. Ministers - lay and ordained. Even my hair stylist came to my rescue.
Friends of family, friends of faith, friends of service and friends of love.
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I can open a zip lock bag now. I can hold a baby in my arms and open the cereal and the milk. I can feed myself and dress myself. Fourteen days ago I returned to work. Part time and light duty – but gainful employment. I did not think I had it in me, but with caregivers in the work place -an efficient, kind HR department and flexible scheduling, I returned to the very place of care-giving – a community hospital in the place where I live and have worked as a nurse taking care of others for most of the last 33 years.
Seven days ago, someone asked me how I was and I realized - to my own amazement - that I was “good” Not fully recovered, but I could honestly answer – “I am good, thank you for asking." FINALLY, I thought to myself.
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Scripture verses if we know them, like songs, come to us in our hours of need.
do not believe that the Lord wanted me to get sick. I do not believe that He did it so that I could learn the lessons that one inevitably learns when they are sick and frightened and dependent for every single thing. But I do believe that, as Scripture tells us, He will work all things for good.
I knew, the day I could not feel my arms that the Lord would provide. I simply knew it in my heart. It is with astonishment that I have come to realize that, he has provided abundantly.
I have had an abundance of adversity in the last one hundred and thirty nine days but I have also had an abundance of love, an abundance of knowledge and skill, an abundance of understanding and patience, an abundance of practical help and financial assistance and an abundance of humour and laughter mixed in with the tears. My every need has been met more abundantly than I could ever imagine or hope for.
The greatest gift came recently. I was so very conscious of how many gifts I had been given. I felt like every time someone – anyone – did something nice for me I should put it on a slip of paper and put it in a sack like a Santa Claus bag until I could write them a thank you note. I was beginning to feel the burden of the weight of all that gratitude – like I had to carry it around until I gotten in my sleigh and, going from house to house, had adequately acknowledged each kind deed . It was exhausting just thinking about it and the bag was getting heavier each and ever day.
My friend came carrying Holy Water, Anointing Oil, chicken soup and home made ginger syrup. She also brought laughter and a generosity of heart that I have admired in her for years. And she set me free of my burden. She told me that I could lay the sack down, that no one, NO ONE, was waiting for their thank you note, they were all only waiting for me to get well.
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It is July 20th. 139 days since I first got sick. 139 days of adversity laced with abundance. So this is the thank you note to all of you who played a role in my rescue operation no matter how small it may have seemed to you.
I am getting well. I am tired and stiff and sore, but I can use my arms and I am not running from the train and I am getting well. Pretty soon, the whole puzzle will be put back together made stronger than ever by adversity laced with abundance.
Let the gratitude of my heart fill the skies like balloons let loose for all the world to see.
