I have many scars! My hands and wrists alone tell quite a story. If you looked carefully you would find over twelve surgical scars, some directly on top of another. My now thin wrinkled skin has been opened again and again often in the same place. The right wrist is fused and the left has been replaced more than once.
Surprisingly I am thankful for every one of my scars! You see, each scar tells a story and each one also shows me all that God has brought me through. Each one is a reminder of a difficult, frustrating and painful time, from which I have survived...and not only survived but thrived! And of course along the way, in addition to the scars my spirit has gained empathy, compassion, patience, understanding, purpose and strength. My faith has been tested and my faith has grown. I have witnessed the miracle of a wound healing over and over again. Yes, each one tells a story and I do indeed cherish every one.
No one would wish for my health history. I have been wheeled into an operating room for surgery fifty-one times! Fifty-one times I have felt that moment of saying good-bye to the dearest people in my life and have then been wheeled into a gleaming room surrounded by strangers. Fifty-one times I have thankfully been "put to sleep" one way or another, many times with a general anesthesia, each time hoping that I would wake up again following surgery. Only once did I wake up during surgery.. Fifty-one times I have awoken in a recovery room, thrilled to be alive, but bombasted with pain, trusting implicitly that the one recovery room nurse assigned to be my helper and defender would do their best for me. Fifty-one times I have waited for the news...."Things went just great" or sometimes, "Things did not go as planned". One of those times I was told thankfully, "No there is no cancer". Four times found me saying goodbye to a baby I had only begun to love because my body rejected the pregnancy.
Fifty-one times I have faced "The Recovery" and all it entails. I have willingly or not moved into that phase which always is accompanied by pain, emotion and change. This phase often requires bracing and therapy, and sometimes ICU stays, tube feeds, hallucinations, infection control, medication side effects and any number of things I never even imagined. I now am missing several body parts, and I count on titanium and bone grafts to hold me together in several places. I can't begin to even count the number of times, complications have been part of my recoveries. No, no one would wish for my health history, but without fail, fifty-one times God has brought me through it all and therein lies the true blessing!
My most recent scars turned from the expected one in the front of the neck to another even more extensive scar on the back of my neck. Two months ago I checked into a major teaching hospital for a standard ACDF surgery, a fusion in the area of the neck to alleviate pain in the left upper extremity. I chose a renowned surgeon. Do you think things went as planned? No they did not. I awoke from the surgery with an amazing recovery room nurse attending to my vitals and pain level, only to be told by my daughter who soon appeared with Hubby dear, that "things did not go as planned". Honestly, I was not even surprised. Four days later, after shedding a few tears, I headed back to the OR for a second surgery. This one involved more vertebrae, a second more painful incision, a longer time in surgery and an eight-day stay in the hospital rather than one. My recovery has been rocky and is still a work in progress.
And so on this Thanksgiving, I give thanks to God, who has been my constant through all of my journey. He knew just days before my milestone birthday of 70 years, that I would be challenged once again. He knows that my energy is still low and how much I want to get on with life. He knows how the fusion is fusing or if it is not. He knows when my strength will be fully restored. And so I rest in Him and find peace, and I find joy where I can. I am so thankful for my husband and my two nearby daughters and their families who are my primary source of support. On Thanksgiving and always, I give thanks for these treasured gifts of family, faith and healing.
Finally I wish for you a very Happy Thanksgiving! As you cherish those dear, dear people in your own life who mean so much to you, and as you enjoy perhaps a little too much turkey and trimmings tomorrow, I hope you count your many blessings. Among those I hope you too can be thankful for your scars, seen or unseen, because they are the character builders that make you the person you are today. You wouldn't be you without them.
Tomorrow will be a good day! It will be the culmination of all those waiting days. In a sense it is the fulfilment of four years of concern and pain and doctor visits and procedures and tests and finally me saying yes to a surgery that really scares me.
Time is so interesting! Since August 3rd, when the pain could not be controlled I knew I would have to say yes to the surgery I was scheduled for two years ago. I had put it off as long as I could. Since August 16th, I have known the specific date the spinal fusion would be performed. And from that day until now time has mysteriously taken on a new character.
Minutes slowed and then of course hours slowed. I tried to continue being with the people I love and enjoy activities we did together to the extent the pain would allow me. But in those in between hours, time just seemed to suspend itself. Counting the weeks and then days until surgery became second nature. Today I am counting the hours. I'm helpless to the power of time.
Then of course, without fail, worry came to visit during those long suspended minutes and hours. Practical knowledge did little to balance the "what ifs".
Tomorrow will come and then I will know the outcome of the surgery. Then the post-op days will reveal successful healing without complications or they will reveal something worse. I have always been a realist.
I am also a Christian and so I stand today facing the future that only God knows and in this hour I will rest in the loving arms of my Savior and give my emotions a little break before they truly break me. I know that no matter what happens, He will have my back...and I mean that literally!
Thanks to each of the encouragers I have in my life. Thanks to all of the positive thinkers. Thanks to all of the doers of kind acts and the speakers of kind words. Thanks to all of the folks who say, "I'm thinking of you." Thanks to the pray-ers like Delores who I just met yesterday and to all of you I have known for much longer. Thanks to a confident and compassionate surgeon.
Time dragging. Worry creeping. Pain teaching. Love pouring. God reaching.
Life is so precious. Maybe time suspended itself so I could appreciate it even more. Maybe pain appeared so I could appreciate the moments it is gone. Yes, tomorrow will be a good day!
Reacting to a phone call from my mother, I jumped into the car. It actually was just another one of the phone calls we have received with some regularity notifying us that she was in the Emergency Room. Very independent at age 94, she said, "I am in the ER because I fell. I didn't want to bother you but they told me I should call someone." It was my grandson's first birthday and our family was excited about his party just three days away.
Not knowing what to expect, I entered her ER room to find her in good spirits as usual. Lying on a cot, she was in a great deal of back pain. She told me that she had turned and taken just a couple steps away from her walker to grab something from the table. I groaned inwardly as I had told her many times not to do that.
That's the facts of what changed the rest of my mother's life and my first reaction was anger at her for doing something I didn't think she should have done.
Six weeks have transpired since that day. Details could fill pages so I will only present highlights:
An ER doctor suggesting I should take my mother home when she could not even sit up.
ER scans that didn't include the injured area.
A week of severe disabling pain passing before further testing was done.
The diagnosis of a compression fracture following a terribly painful ordeal of a test.
The promise of the surgical procedure providing immediate relief.
Hospital and nursing home staff that are amazing and those who are just the opposite.
Pain, phone calls, family visits, money concerns, social workers, Angst.
Moving into a nursing home twice.
Falling in a nursing home when the CNA walks away.
Knowing the best outcome is leaving independent living and moving to assisted living.
Challenging a facility for their neglect.
Closing out my mother's apartment without her there.
Sorting through so much stuff and wondering why things were so important.
Losing mobility and strength and imagining life forever changed.
Hmm, guess there were a lot of highlights! My mother lived through that and so much more! I lived through that and so much more!
Oh, when did this life crisis become about me? Apparently it has taken six weeks to realize that even though my emotions have been on a roller coaster and I am physically exhausted, my life will go on pretty much the same. It is my 94 year old mother who lost her cherished independence, went through day after day of excruciating pain, and came out looking at an uncertain future.
Six long, demanding weeks for me to realize what my mother truly needs. She did need me and my siblings to step up to the plate and help make hard decisions. She needed me to be a liaison when talking to medical staff at several times and several places. Her ears don't work well anymore so she needed me to listen and explain what she could not hear. She needed me to listen when she was in pain or frustrated. She needed me to be her daughter. Some days I was good at giving and some days my emotions or my own pain or fatigue seemed to get in the way.
What a journey this has been!
Maybe this time has been a time for reflecting also. Who could begin to count what my mother has given me? How were things during my first few weeks of life for my mother? Do you suppose she gave and gave until she was exhausted? Perhaps her emotions were on a roller coaster then. She had so much to do just to keep a household together and care for her two small children. Do you think she always had someone to listen to her? Was she ever frustrated? Perhaps I could have been a better daughter now for I know she was a good mother then. Maybe I still have some things to learn.
Fortunately life goes on for both my mother and me. I hope we have learned from this hard time and go forward even stronger.
I wonder what tomorrow will bring? I hope whoever needs me, I will be ready.
