Goal: wash face, brush teeth, make spinach/crab dip, blog, and maybe try the shower.
I am glad to see another Friday as they are the anniversary days of my surgery. Today marks seven weeks of being fixed to a frame. *smile* I smile because six weeks ago today, Christmas Day to be exact, I didn’t think I was going to make it. My running thought was suicide. (I prayed for the day to go home so I could die.) Every night I thought of taking 13, 14, 15 pills to “numb” the pain and put me in that deep sleep I so desired. I just could not do it at my mom’s house. I did not want her to be haunted by that.
In truth, being under my mom for three weeks saved my life. As the days moved forward and my energy started to return, I really wanted to get home, but I had no longer had the desire to die. I wasn’t sure how I was going to live, but I was eager to give it another try. I was eager to feel my bed again, have my boo hold me again, watch my tv, sit on my couch, smell my smells , take a shower, see my clothes, touch my things, drive again, and travel again – I was eager to meet Denedria again.
Now, seven weeks in, I continue to rediscover myself. Many days I feel like a fake because I can’t seem to match the me before the frame to the me of today. I know my outlook will change over time as it always does, but this time my hidden fears seem to be more dominate and not easily shaken. More than anything, I am afraid that there is a permanent crack in my independent nature.
I also feel phony because I haven’t been able to pray since the surgery. (I tried once, but it felt so foreign.) So many people have held me in their prayers, and yet, I haven’t been able to it for myself. In truth, I haven’t had a church home in years, but my faith in God has remained strong. I know that it is because of Him that I am here and continue to be, but even as I am typing this, I believe this more with my head than with my heart. I have truly lost something and am struggling to get it back.
I know I need to find a church home, someplace where I feel safe and accepted. A safe place, yes, that is what I need. Any suggestions???? I need, above all else, to stop walking in fear, but I need guidance. I may also go back to counseling. One thing I do know; I can’t social work myself! I process things very well but even social workers need to know when they have hit a brick wall – “Hello wall.”
Showing posts with label disability. Show all posts
Showing posts with label disability. Show all posts
Friday, February 5, 2010
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Still Framed...
Goal: brush teeth, wash face, make a mocha, and blog.
Today has been a slow moving day for me, and it is not all due to my having a long day yesterday. The first thirty minutes of my day truly color how my day will unfold: will it be one to rejoice in or one I sleep away? Today, I feel like sleeping.
At times, the frame is like a cage, a part of my body is entrapped, with no means to escape. And although I know it to be there, I sometimes forget and want to break free. This is a very common feeling when I wake up in the morning. When sleep finds me, I usually sleep sound. Despite the dreams, nightmares, or on rare occasions, the silence, I will drift to a place where I forget reality, and when I awake, I sometimes forget where I am and that I am still framed.
That first under-the-cover-stretch is usually what gets to me. (You know what I am talking about: when your eyes first pop open and you stretch or move your legs under the covers to get the circulation moving before you hop/pop up to turn on the television or get out of the bed.) In that brief, early A.M. moment, I freak because I can’t move my left leg. Not only are the covers caught on it, but it’s weighted down and I feel pain. When I raise my head to see what’s the matter, the visual brings me back to reality – I have to deal with this sh** again. Dang!
And then my reality hits: walker to the left of the bed, need to put on right leg brace before I can make it safely to the bathroom, muster up will to get up and go to the bathroom, should brush teeth and wash face, and the nurse will be here between 9 a.m. and 11 a.m. to clean pins and rotate struts. This is the constant in which I now reside. The variety comes when I sleep at my mom’s home once a week. The difference – no A.M. nurse, I have a doctor’s appointment.
The highlights these days are making my homemade mochas: milk, ice, mocha mix, and blend. I do this every morning. I love my homemade mochas and I use to make them every morning to drink on my way to work. They taste great and always made me feel good, and Lord knows I need to feel good these days. Besides, milk does a body good and my mocha mix is 99.9% caffeine free, so there. This is why I went to Smart-and-Final before moving back home and purchased three cans of mocha mix, two large bags of ice, and two more packs of 20-ounce foam cups (I already had plenty of lids and straws). I know I am not living “green,” but I need to be spill proof at this time.
(I know my life is upside down because I am blogging about my mocha – Oh Lord! Now do you understand why I want to sleep the day away???)
Today has been a slow moving day for me, and it is not all due to my having a long day yesterday. The first thirty minutes of my day truly color how my day will unfold: will it be one to rejoice in or one I sleep away? Today, I feel like sleeping.
At times, the frame is like a cage, a part of my body is entrapped, with no means to escape. And although I know it to be there, I sometimes forget and want to break free. This is a very common feeling when I wake up in the morning. When sleep finds me, I usually sleep sound. Despite the dreams, nightmares, or on rare occasions, the silence, I will drift to a place where I forget reality, and when I awake, I sometimes forget where I am and that I am still framed.
That first under-the-cover-stretch is usually what gets to me. (You know what I am talking about: when your eyes first pop open and you stretch or move your legs under the covers to get the circulation moving before you hop/pop up to turn on the television or get out of the bed.) In that brief, early A.M. moment, I freak because I can’t move my left leg. Not only are the covers caught on it, but it’s weighted down and I feel pain. When I raise my head to see what’s the matter, the visual brings me back to reality – I have to deal with this sh** again. Dang!
And then my reality hits: walker to the left of the bed, need to put on right leg brace before I can make it safely to the bathroom, muster up will to get up and go to the bathroom, should brush teeth and wash face, and the nurse will be here between 9 a.m. and 11 a.m. to clean pins and rotate struts. This is the constant in which I now reside. The variety comes when I sleep at my mom’s home once a week. The difference – no A.M. nurse, I have a doctor’s appointment.
The highlights these days are making my homemade mochas: milk, ice, mocha mix, and blend. I do this every morning. I love my homemade mochas and I use to make them every morning to drink on my way to work. They taste great and always made me feel good, and Lord knows I need to feel good these days. Besides, milk does a body good and my mocha mix is 99.9% caffeine free, so there. This is why I went to Smart-and-Final before moving back home and purchased three cans of mocha mix, two large bags of ice, and two more packs of 20-ounce foam cups (I already had plenty of lids and straws). I know I am not living “green,” but I need to be spill proof at this time.
(I know my life is upside down because I am blogging about my mocha – Oh Lord! Now do you understand why I want to sleep the day away???)
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