Last night my back went out again. Well, my shoulder which is attached to my back, which sends pain coursing through my body at lightning speed.
The first time this happened it was 1990 and I had been in a car accident three days prior. I woke up out of a deep sleep screaming. It was surreal and very, very REAL. It has been determined that the scar tissue from the whiplash compresses the nerves and occasionally, about every 5-8 years, when stress is high and heavy lifting necessary, the result is this debilitating pain that every move aggravates.
Since we were starting to move some things over to the new house, fate picked last night and this morning to revive this old wound.
I've iced it, and done the deep heating rub, taken a scalding hot bath and am now left with numbness in my hands and the hurt hopefully relegated to one small area. I feel exhausted and completely fatigued. Yet, in there somewhere is also a peace.
I think of Elle lying in her bed with all those tubes in her and the ventilator helping her to breathe.
Okay, back up, I've been in Arkansas and haven't blogged about Elle.
Elle is the 21 year old daughter of my best friend from junior high and high school. All of her life she has suffered from an immunity disorder (not HIV) that has meant a lifetime of medication, doctors, hospitals and a not-very-normal life.
Elle is beautiful and full of life. Funny, witty, charming. So last week when she suffered a heart attack from a pulmonary embolism we all did a double take and our world stopped. I flew to Arkansas to be there with her mother and watched as they took her into open heart surgery, helpless except for my prayers.
Then we waited for her to wake up. We waited, and waited.
She did not wake while I was there. I had to return home to my own family and just pray that she would come through this.
This morning she opened her eyes and moved some. Five days, if I've counted right. She didn't wake up for five days.
My pain is so irrelevant. Elle is with us and prayers work.
I came home to see my children a little differently. Time is the important thing. There is schoolwork to do and chores and all of that. But time holding them and snuggling and giggling and talking is better.
It's all we wanted for Elle to be able to do again. To smile. To laugh. To know we love her and to feel the joy of her.
My pain is still there and boy, it really hurts. But as long as I can see clearly I'm good.
We'll get to all those things at some point. In the midst of pain; we can stop and hold on to each other, pray and hug, be thankful for Elle, and just be for a moment. Sometimes God needs to interrupt us to say, "Be still and know that I am God."
Well, Lord, I'm listening. And thanks.
The first time this happened it was 1990 and I had been in a car accident three days prior. I woke up out of a deep sleep screaming. It was surreal and very, very REAL. It has been determined that the scar tissue from the whiplash compresses the nerves and occasionally, about every 5-8 years, when stress is high and heavy lifting necessary, the result is this debilitating pain that every move aggravates.
Since we were starting to move some things over to the new house, fate picked last night and this morning to revive this old wound.
I've iced it, and done the deep heating rub, taken a scalding hot bath and am now left with numbness in my hands and the hurt hopefully relegated to one small area. I feel exhausted and completely fatigued. Yet, in there somewhere is also a peace.
I think of Elle lying in her bed with all those tubes in her and the ventilator helping her to breathe.
Okay, back up, I've been in Arkansas and haven't blogged about Elle.
Elle is the 21 year old daughter of my best friend from junior high and high school. All of her life she has suffered from an immunity disorder (not HIV) that has meant a lifetime of medication, doctors, hospitals and a not-very-normal life.
Elle is beautiful and full of life. Funny, witty, charming. So last week when she suffered a heart attack from a pulmonary embolism we all did a double take and our world stopped. I flew to Arkansas to be there with her mother and watched as they took her into open heart surgery, helpless except for my prayers.
Then we waited for her to wake up. We waited, and waited.
She did not wake while I was there. I had to return home to my own family and just pray that she would come through this.
This morning she opened her eyes and moved some. Five days, if I've counted right. She didn't wake up for five days.
My pain is so irrelevant. Elle is with us and prayers work.
I came home to see my children a little differently. Time is the important thing. There is schoolwork to do and chores and all of that. But time holding them and snuggling and giggling and talking is better.
It's all we wanted for Elle to be able to do again. To smile. To laugh. To know we love her and to feel the joy of her.
My pain is still there and boy, it really hurts. But as long as I can see clearly I'm good.
We'll get to all those things at some point. In the midst of pain; we can stop and hold on to each other, pray and hug, be thankful for Elle, and just be for a moment. Sometimes God needs to interrupt us to say, "Be still and know that I am God."
Well, Lord, I'm listening. And thanks.
1 comment:
Simply Wonderful Rene! Again thank you for being there. Please tell Dennis thanks for allowing you to be there as well.
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