When you are used to being active and involved in everything, being sidelined is almost a fate worse than death. So you can imagine my anticipation and eagerness after a corrective surgery to get back on my feet and get back in the game. Oops, a little too soon and a little too fast.
The good news is that the evil adhesion mass has been removed and once I fully recover from the surgery, look out world here I come! I’ve longed to do so much that my hunger and thirst for it drove me harder, faster, more – and just a little bit of overdoing it.
There are things I’ve promised myself – no more sitting around and doing nothing! Getting out and doing things again and saying yes to more invitations. But I’ve come to realize that being sidelined has an impact on more than your physical ability. It creates new habits, new routines, new ways of doing things. I’ve already faced a couple of situations where activity was available, but the habit of staying home and drawing into myself reared its ugly head and sometimes won out.
The biggest battle I face now may no longer be physical pain, but the kind of life I accepted while I was in so much pain and whether or not to continue coasting along. God give me strength to no longer find coasting along as acceptable!
For the past 13 months, pain has been a way of life for me. During that same time period, picking up the slack and taking care of me has been the way of life for my husband. But it’s nothing new. I picked a winner.
Karl and I attended a small Christian college in central Texas where the cafeteria hours were unmovable – even if it conflicted with a class. Seeking a bachelor of arts degree, I had to take foreign language and I chose French. It just so happened that French class got out five minutes before the cafeteria closed – and it was on the opposite end of the campus. Enter the hero – my boyfriend who became my husband.
Karl would eat supper then go back through line and get a tray for me, he arranged it with one of the cafeteria workers he had befriended. The entrance door would be locked, but I could knock on the exit door and Karl would let me in and I got to eat supper. For someone with digestive problems caused by Crohn’s Disease who has to eat three regular meals a day – no snacking – this was a lifesaver.
My husband continues to be my hero. I am grateful.
“I am a Christian.” And you’re saying this because? So often that’s the way we look at it. Just saying you are a Christian – does it make a difference? It can, if you are intentional about it.
I’ve struggled with a lot of pain after a colonoscopy and the gastro was at a loss as how to help me. Finally, I went to see my primary care physician and he recommended seeing a massage therapist. It was Monday after 5pm, so I had to wait until the next morning to do anything about it. At my chiropractor’s office, they have a massage therapist – only there on Tuesday mornings. I was her first patient the next morning. So glad she had space for me. I’m still in pain, but at half the severity as it was before. Healing is beginning to take place.
My doctor sits on the same school board as my husband. He asked Karl about how I was doing and Karl was glad to report that massage therapy had made a difference. My doctor was thrilled and shared “the rest of the story.” Massage therapy isn’t something he often recommends. However, as a Christian, he prays that God will guide him in how he handles the care his patients need. He said God put those words in his mouth.
Does being a Christian make a difference? When it is more than lip service. When God is your partner in your life work – yes! I for one, am grateful.