....as a loyal UCLA fan, I never thought I'd say those words.
However, the UCLA CRPS doctor doesn't take insurance, so it was (hi ho hi ho) off to USC I go... (or went).
As you can probably recall, if you're a reader of the blog, I haven't had the most pleasant experience with pain guys in Bakersfield. If you don't remember, refresh your memory here!
That Bakersfield "doctor" was the epitome of what a doctor shouldn't be. I was praying for the exact opposite when I went down to USC.
I prayed for a doctor who would take time with me, who would listen, who would treat me like a real person with a real problem, who would come up with a plan and would follow through.
Well, God blessed me with all of those things and more.
Fortunately, my mama took me down this morning (because there's no way I could drive there and face a doctor and drive back all on my own). I have quite a case of white coat syndrome, so I just prayed all morning to calm my anxiety (and my blood pressure). We got to the USC Medical Center a bit early, so we sat down in a quaint courtyard to eat lunch. We shared a table with an older gentleman because the place was hopping. He was waiting outside with his adorable 3 month old puppy while his wife went to her appointment. I loved petting and playing with the sweet puppy as I ate my lunch. It definitely helped calm me down a bit.
Thanks, God, for looking out for even the smallest of details.
My appointment was at 1:30, and they took me back at 1:31. No joke. They even apologized that there was one person in front of me. Is this place for real?
The resident spoke with me first, gathering my history and my story and asking me tons of questions. I immediately felt like I was heard, and I hadn't even seen the doctor yet. She left, discussed the information with the doctor, and they both came back in. This kind-hearted Jewish man immediately put me at ease. He sat back, got comfortable, and had about a 30 minute conversation with me. It was definitely more than I could have asked for.
After much discussion, he decided that the best plan of action for now was to double my Lyrica (since it seemed to get me over my last big hump) to get me in the right treatment range. We'll do this progressively over the next couple of weeks (and pray that the side-effects are minimal!). He said that if I lived in the area, he'd have me do some OT and stress/talk therapy to help improve my quality of life right now, but he didn't think anyone in the Bakersfield area was qualified in this particular treatment, so we'll stick with the meds for now and see how I do.
We talked a bit about continuing some physical therapy and how to slowly desensitize my foot so that I may eventually be able to wear some different shoes. He said that he hopes in a year or two I'll be close to "normal" again (whatever that means!). I may never be back to 100%, but he thinks I'll at least get close--he seems really hopeful, and that's great news!
At the end of my appointment he even said, "You and I should see each other again in about 6-8 weeks." For real? It's like we're real people working on a project together. This guy is above and beyond! I'll go back at the end of April, and we'll go from there. I am just so relieved to have a plan of attack and a doctor that really cares about me. He truly is everything a doctor should be.
So, thank you all for praying for me!
Thank you, God, for USC and an amazing doctor. Thank You for taking care of the little details and the big ones.
Thank You for hope. :)
Showing posts with label foot. Show all posts
Showing posts with label foot. Show all posts
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Supposed to Be...
Six months ago (last Saturday) I had foot surgery.
Today, six months later, I was supposed to have two good feet. I was supposed to be all better--whatever that means.
I was supposed to be able to:
~run around the block (or farther) if I wanted to.
~work out easily and get in better shape before my brother's wedding.
~run errands on a Saturday without a second thought.
~walk around Target at night without my foot turning the color of the giant balls outside.
~wear whatever shoes I wanted.
~drive down to see my roommates' babies (ripmyheartoutplease) whenever I wanted.
But, that's obviously not the case. My supposed to be is not God's supposed to be...
In God's supposed to be, I am:
~figuring out how to adjust and modify aspects of my life (I'm pretty sure that's a decent life skill).
~learning how to be an advocate in my own health care.
~spending more time with some amazing people (shout out to In-Step Physical Therapy).
~hopefully helping others become more aware of CRPS.
~going to USC next month to see a specialist.
~learning to trust deeper.
~realizing that God's supposed to be IS what's supposed to be.
Today, six months later, I was supposed to have two good feet. I was supposed to be all better--whatever that means.
I was supposed to be able to:
~run around the block (or farther) if I wanted to.
~work out easily and get in better shape before my brother's wedding.
~run errands on a Saturday without a second thought.
~walk around Target at night without my foot turning the color of the giant balls outside.
~wear whatever shoes I wanted.
~drive down to see my roommates' babies (ripmyheartoutplease) whenever I wanted.
But, that's obviously not the case. My supposed to be is not God's supposed to be...
In God's supposed to be, I am:
~figuring out how to adjust and modify aspects of my life (I'm pretty sure that's a decent life skill).
~learning how to be an advocate in my own health care.
~spending more time with some amazing people (shout out to In-Step Physical Therapy).
~hopefully helping others become more aware of CRPS.
~going to USC next month to see a specialist.
~learning to trust deeper.
~realizing that God's supposed to be IS what's supposed to be.
For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord.
~Isaiah 55:8
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Two Thumbs DOWN!
Well, folks, I told you in the last post, that I'd give you an update after my doctor's appointment this week, so here goes nothing...
I've never felt great about this pain doc, but I wanted to give the guy a chance or two or three. No mas. All done. Chances-used-up.
I'm sure this guy knows his stuff, or enough stuff, but his bedside manner is #$%#$^$%&#$%^. Was that too harsh? Yes? Well, I don't take it back.
Today he made me feel small. Super small. We all know I'm not small.
He thinks (and said over and over) that I need to do a nerve block. He's not happy that the CRPS isn't getting better. He doesn't like that it's moved to the other foot. He wants it taken care of now. He explained the nerve block quite logically. He made perfect sense. Still, I don't feel right about it. I don't want one. I wasn't ready to make a decision today.
So, I asked him if he had something written down or typed out that explained this nerve block--explained what he had just told me. Because, come on, who really remembers everything the doc says when you leave the office? Not this girl.
He looks up from his laptop for half a second and dryly says, "No, you want a pen?"
(I couldn't even make this stuff up.)
But, did he even offer me a pen then? NO. I searched through my purse. My mom searched through her purse. We finally found one, but didn't have paper. Did he offer paper? Nope, he just waited. Mom finally pulled out an old receipt and I sat there waiting for him to speak.
Which he did--kind of--in half sentences as he typed other stuff as if I was inconveniencing HIM.
(I'm shocked I wasn't crying yet.)
So, after my half scribbled receipt explanation of the nerve block, I said I still wasn't ready to make a decision. I told him I'd call the office and let him know after I talked to a few people. We talked a bit more about medication. He then asked if I wanted to make an appointment for the nerve block or to come back to the office. NO NO NO. Weren't you listening? I'LL CALL YOUR OFFICE!
He then proceeded to tell us that he wouldn't be offended if we got a second opinion. Great. So, Mom asked if anyone is doing anything with CRPS down at UCLA or USC. She wanted to know where he'd suggest we'd go to find this second opinion--if anyone was doing any new research with CRPS.
His response: Well, there are pain doctors all over. A lot of them don't like dealing with CRPS. Lots of doctors just like to stick needles in backs.
WHAT?!?!?! Isn't that what you're trying to do???
Pain Doc: If you're unsure, just go ask some patients in the waiting room. See how well I've done with them.
Mom: I just asked because you said it would be okay to get a second opinion. Is anyone doing anything innovative with CRPS?
Pain Doc: Everyone is just experimenting. It's like you're asking us to do Calculus when we haven't learned basic math yet!
Ok God's-gift-to-pain-patients everywhere! REALLY? Get off your high horse.
Pain Doc: You to be proactive. If this takes over your life, I wouldn't want to have to ask you what you actually did about it.
Is that the doctor's way of saying I told you so? Ok, now it's my fault. Or it would be. Whatever.
And if WHAT he said wasn't out of line enough, HOW he said it was close to infuriating. I went into the appointment confident that we'd figure out some sort of plan. I came out freaked, on the brink of tears--feeling angry, confused, ridiculous, small.
Why would I want someone who makes me feel like that to stick a needle in my back?? And not ONCE, but ONCE A WEEK FOR A MONTH! (Did I forget to mention that part?) Oh yah, it would take about an hour or two once a week for a month. Sign me up! Not.
They always ask you how you'd rate your pain. What they should ask is how you'd rate the doctor: TWO THUMBS WAY DOWN!
Perhaps I was a bit sensitive, but he was way out of line.
I've never felt great about this pain doc, but I wanted to give the guy a chance or two or three. No mas. All done. Chances-used-up.
I'm sure this guy knows his stuff, or enough stuff, but his bedside manner is #$%#$^$%&#$%^. Was that too harsh? Yes? Well, I don't take it back.
Today he made me feel small. Super small. We all know I'm not small.
He thinks (and said over and over) that I need to do a nerve block. He's not happy that the CRPS isn't getting better. He doesn't like that it's moved to the other foot. He wants it taken care of now. He explained the nerve block quite logically. He made perfect sense. Still, I don't feel right about it. I don't want one. I wasn't ready to make a decision today.
So, I asked him if he had something written down or typed out that explained this nerve block--explained what he had just told me. Because, come on, who really remembers everything the doc says when you leave the office? Not this girl.
He looks up from his laptop for half a second and dryly says, "No, you want a pen?"
(I couldn't even make this stuff up.)
But, did he even offer me a pen then? NO. I searched through my purse. My mom searched through her purse. We finally found one, but didn't have paper. Did he offer paper? Nope, he just waited. Mom finally pulled out an old receipt and I sat there waiting for him to speak.
Which he did--kind of--in half sentences as he typed other stuff as if I was inconveniencing HIM.
(I'm shocked I wasn't crying yet.)
So, after my half scribbled receipt explanation of the nerve block, I said I still wasn't ready to make a decision. I told him I'd call the office and let him know after I talked to a few people. We talked a bit more about medication. He then asked if I wanted to make an appointment for the nerve block or to come back to the office. NO NO NO. Weren't you listening? I'LL CALL YOUR OFFICE!
He then proceeded to tell us that he wouldn't be offended if we got a second opinion. Great. So, Mom asked if anyone is doing anything with CRPS down at UCLA or USC. She wanted to know where he'd suggest we'd go to find this second opinion--if anyone was doing any new research with CRPS.
His response: Well, there are pain doctors all over. A lot of them don't like dealing with CRPS. Lots of doctors just like to stick needles in backs.
WHAT?!?!?! Isn't that what you're trying to do???
Pain Doc: If you're unsure, just go ask some patients in the waiting room. See how well I've done with them.
Mom: I just asked because you said it would be okay to get a second opinion. Is anyone doing anything innovative with CRPS?
Pain Doc: Everyone is just experimenting. It's like you're asking us to do Calculus when we haven't learned basic math yet!
Ok God's-gift-to-pain-patients everywhere! REALLY? Get off your high horse.
Pain Doc: You to be proactive. If this takes over your life, I wouldn't want to have to ask you what you actually did about it.
Is that the doctor's way of saying I told you so? Ok, now it's my fault. Or it would be. Whatever.
And if WHAT he said wasn't out of line enough, HOW he said it was close to infuriating. I went into the appointment confident that we'd figure out some sort of plan. I came out freaked, on the brink of tears--feeling angry, confused, ridiculous, small.
Why would I want someone who makes me feel like that to stick a needle in my back?? And not ONCE, but ONCE A WEEK FOR A MONTH! (Did I forget to mention that part?) Oh yah, it would take about an hour or two once a week for a month. Sign me up! Not.
They always ask you how you'd rate your pain. What they should ask is how you'd rate the doctor: TWO THUMBS WAY DOWN!
Perhaps I was a bit sensitive, but he was way out of line.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I cried the whole way home....especially when "Even If" by Kutless came on the radio:
Even if the healing doesn't come
And life falls apart
And dreams are still undone
You are God You are good
Forever faithful One
Even if the healing
Even if the healing doesn't come
I cried some more when I got home. And then determination set in. Ok, God, what next? Show me what to do. Give me Your wisdom. Help me here! I don't know what to do, but you ALWAYS do! You are the forever faithful One.
So, I emailed Krissi (for those who don't know, I know Krissi from college and she actually has dealt with CRPS for years and years). She's amazing and wise and compassionate. She emailed back shortly after and really put me at ease. She chose not to do a nerve block, :::huge sigh of relief::: and gave me different ideas for what I can do. She spoke so highly of the UCLA doctors and is going to get some references for me. Thank you, God.
Maybe I will have to do a nerve block eventually. Maybe I won't. But, I know that there are options out there. I know that rude pain doctor isn't the end all. Perhaps my next step is a trip to UCLA.
I pray for wisdom and discretion. Will you please join me?
You are God. You are good. Forever faithful One, even if the healing doesn't come.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
A Bad Case of Foot Jealousy...
Apparently Sir Lefty over here got a bit jealous that Righty was getting all the attention--what with CRPS and all.
Soooo, Lefty decided to get CRPS too.
Yup, the lovely syndrome is now occupying both feet. Thanks a lot, Lefty.
Of course, Righty wouldn't let Lefty steal all of its glory, so the majority of the CRPS is still in Righty, but the crazy shiny skin and redness and burning has worked its way on over. Joy.
We always knew this was a possibility, but I was counting on Lefty to be solid--it already had its time to shine.
I go back to the pain dude this week. Maybe he'll have some insight (although most people don't). I'll keep you posted. :)
Soooo, Lefty decided to get CRPS too.
Yup, the lovely syndrome is now occupying both feet. Thanks a lot, Lefty.
Of course, Righty wouldn't let Lefty steal all of its glory, so the majority of the CRPS is still in Righty, but the crazy shiny skin and redness and burning has worked its way on over. Joy.
We always knew this was a possibility, but I was counting on Lefty to be solid--it already had its time to shine.
I go back to the pain dude this week. Maybe he'll have some insight (although most people don't). I'll keep you posted. :)
Monday, October 22, 2012
The New Normal.
One day last week as I was walking through the office, I
distinctly remember thinking—I almost
feel normal again. I honestly surprised myself.
What exactly is normal? The way I was before surgery? Before CRPS?
It can’t be…because I’m definitely not there. I had to
really stop and think about it for a few days.
I do feel like I’m
starting to get my life back again. Hallelujah! I’m able to walk so much more. I can drive some. I have more
freedom.
But, I’m not back to normal
as I used to know it.
I suppose I’m just beginning to embrace my new normal.
My new normal is
living life with CRPS (at least for now). I praise God that it’s not nearly as
debilitating as it once was, but it’s still a large part of my life. I’m learning how to adjust and
accommodate. I’m learning how to read my body—what to do and what not to do. This
is becoming my normal.
I can’t just sit around and wait for it to go away. I can’t put my life on hold
because of it. I have to learn to live with it until God decides to take it
from me—if He decides to take it from
me.
If I’m healed, to God be the glory. If I’m not, to God be
the glory.
I know God is sovereign and good—even
amongst diseases and disorders, sicknesses and syndromes.
So, with God’s grace and strength, I’ll try to embrace my
new normal. I know it won’t always be easy. I know I’ll still have bad days and
good ones—bad hours and good ones for that matter—but such is life, right?
So whether it be normal
or new normal or not normal, I’ll live it—ever more grateful for the small victories along the
way.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Progress.
It’s difficult to notice and appreciate progress when it’s
slow and in your face.
Take a kid for example. They grow like weeds, but someone
that sees that kid everyday may not notice the subtle changes. On the other
hand, an aunt or uncle or grandparent who hasn’t seen the kid in a few months
is often surprised by how much the child has grown and changed.
Or what about hair?
We can’t see or don’t notice our hair growing, but someone who hasn’t seen us
in a while may comment about how long it has gotten or how it has changed.
It often seems more difficult to see things right in front
of our faces, doesn’t it?
Like…progress.
Confession: Over
the last couple of weeks, more often than not, I’ve gotten frustrated rather
than encouraged every time someone has commented on how well I’m doing.
I smile and agree and go on my way… But, on the inside, I’m protesting—sure I’m walking better, sure it looks like
everything is great, but my foot still turns wacky colors, it still doesn’t
have normal feeling, it still makes me hot and sick, wah wah wah!
Ok, Amy, slow down
and think about this for a minute.
Yes, those symptoms are still present, but Rome wasn’t built in a day, was it?
I made myself scrol back through the pictures on my phone. Honestly, I was surprised—and it’s my foot! The thing is attached to me!
This is what my foot looked like shortly after I got my cast
off:
And this is what it looks like these days...
...in the morning when it's a bit upset...
But, here is what it normally looks like during the day:
Almost like a real foot!
Like I said before, it’s difficult to notice progress when
it’s right in front of your face.
I was so focused on
the symptoms with which I still struggle that I couldn’t see the progress that
I have made.
How could I forget? Just look at that nasty thing!
My little foot may still turn into a plum on occasion, but
it certainly doesn’t look like a deformed eggplant anymore.
And when will these
symptoms go away? –a question I ask myself far too often.
Who knows. They may not. But, I remember a point where I
honestly couldn’t fathom walking again—and look at me now.
God has brought me this far. He has walked with me and for
me. He has been healing me and strengthening me.
Who am I to doubt that
He’ll continue?
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Two Month-iversary-- Looking Back
It's amazing how two months can feel like ages ago and just yesterday at the same time...
A little over two months ago, I wrote this post about my upcoming foot surgery. I was not looking forward to it at all! Here are a few sentences from that post:
I just have to hold onto the fact that God is in control, and He will carry me through it. He is good all the time.
Little did I know.... :)
A few days after my surgery--which was quite the success the doc said--I wrote this post after a few rough days. Here are a few sentences from that post:
I'm pretty sure that the worst of this part is over (hopefully). I'm not out of the woods yet, but I'm able to better manage the pain and the swelling (and the nausea and the showering and the boredom).
Again, little did I know...
About a week and a half after my surgery, I wrote this post. I believe this was after the surgery pain was calming down and about or right before the CRPS set in. This was probably the "highest" point of the last couple of months.
This post was written a few days after school started. CRPS had set in by this point, but I had NO idea...
And then, THE BOMBSHELL. This post was written on August 29th, four weeks (minus a day) after my surgery. Here are a few lines taken from that post:
I trust that He will carry me through this. I trust that He can work a miracle.
You just never know. Things can change in a minute. I knew I'd have a long road ahead--I just never imagined it'd take this turn.
So I'll keep letting God drive, even though it's not easy. I have to lean on Him, because I (literally) don't have strength of my own. I'll let him work a miracle and heal me if He wills.
I'll hang on. Pray for me? Thanks. :)
As we rounded into September, I wrote this post about how God had already started to work in mighty ways, this post about a really rough day, this post featuring my awesome physical therapist, and this post about what God had been teaching me through this process.
On September 15th (a month and a half after surgery), a breakthrough happened. I began "walking," and things really started to progress with my foot. You can read about that here:
It wasn't easy. I was scared. It hurt like crazy. But, God has promised strength, rest, light, grace, help, sympathy, and love.
Things continued to progress, slowly but surely. I began walking more and more with the help of a walker. You can read about it here (more upbeat) and here (quite discouraged).
God continued to work. I continued to progress and learn and grow. God humbled me here, showed His amazing grace and love here, and continued His incredible and miraculous healing here.
And here we are--two months later. And where do I stand? Anywhere I want--kind of. :)
Physically: I'm walking--on my own and with a cane, depending on the time of day and my pain level. That's huge considering I didn't think I'd be walking even two weeks ago. I'm still in physical therapy three days a week. It still kicks my butt, but I still love it and adore the people there. I still have CRPS, but the effects of it have definitely eased up a bit. I still experience nausea, hot flashes, sweating, and of course, pain, but usually on a much more manageable level than I used to experience. I saw the pain doc yesterday and he was quite pleased with my progress. He said physical therapy was definitely the right thing to do. He added a couple of meds to Lyrica to help with the pain and nerve control. He actually just returned from an international convention on CRPS. As soon as he has gathered and organized all of his new information, he's going to invite all of the CRPies (his words) to the office to meet and discuss it. I'm so interested! I'll let you all know when that goes down.
Mentally/Emotionally/Spiritually: Today, I feel good, although tired. I'm encouraged with my progress. I know that God has done a huge work in my life and continues to work. Praise the Lord! I'm looking forward to what He'll do throughout the rest of this roller coaster. I have learned a lot, and I know that I'll never be done learning. But, I'd be lying if I said that I always feel "good." If you've been following this process with me, you know that's not the case. I have bad days or hours or moments. There have been some really dark days and some really encouraging days. I have breakdowns and breakthroughs.
However, through it all, I have to go back to the words I wrote before my surgery two months ago:
I just have to hold onto the fact that God is in control, and He will carry me through it. He is good all the time.
He is working. He is healing. He is teaching. He is stretching. He is loving.
And thanks for your continued prayers and encouragement. I couldn't have made it this far without you all. :)
A little over two months ago, I wrote this post about my upcoming foot surgery. I was not looking forward to it at all! Here are a few sentences from that post:
I just have to hold onto the fact that God is in control, and He will carry me through it. He is good all the time.
Little did I know.... :)
A few days after my surgery--which was quite the success the doc said--I wrote this post after a few rough days. Here are a few sentences from that post:
I'm pretty sure that the worst of this part is over (hopefully). I'm not out of the woods yet, but I'm able to better manage the pain and the swelling (and the nausea and the showering and the boredom).
Again, little did I know...
About a week and a half after my surgery, I wrote this post. I believe this was after the surgery pain was calming down and about or right before the CRPS set in. This was probably the "highest" point of the last couple of months.
This post was written a few days after school started. CRPS had set in by this point, but I had NO idea...
And then, THE BOMBSHELL. This post was written on August 29th, four weeks (minus a day) after my surgery. Here are a few lines taken from that post:
I trust that He will carry me through this. I trust that He can work a miracle.
You just never know. Things can change in a minute. I knew I'd have a long road ahead--I just never imagined it'd take this turn.
So I'll keep letting God drive, even though it's not easy. I have to lean on Him, because I (literally) don't have strength of my own. I'll let him work a miracle and heal me if He wills.
I'll hang on. Pray for me? Thanks. :)
As we rounded into September, I wrote this post about how God had already started to work in mighty ways, this post about a really rough day, this post featuring my awesome physical therapist, and this post about what God had been teaching me through this process.
On September 15th (a month and a half after surgery), a breakthrough happened. I began "walking," and things really started to progress with my foot. You can read about that here:
It wasn't easy. I was scared. It hurt like crazy. But, God has promised strength, rest, light, grace, help, sympathy, and love.
Things continued to progress, slowly but surely. I began walking more and more with the help of a walker. You can read about it here (more upbeat) and here (quite discouraged).
God continued to work. I continued to progress and learn and grow. God humbled me here, showed His amazing grace and love here, and continued His incredible and miraculous healing here.
And here we are--two months later. And where do I stand? Anywhere I want--kind of. :)
Physically: I'm walking--on my own and with a cane, depending on the time of day and my pain level. That's huge considering I didn't think I'd be walking even two weeks ago. I'm still in physical therapy three days a week. It still kicks my butt, but I still love it and adore the people there. I still have CRPS, but the effects of it have definitely eased up a bit. I still experience nausea, hot flashes, sweating, and of course, pain, but usually on a much more manageable level than I used to experience. I saw the pain doc yesterday and he was quite pleased with my progress. He said physical therapy was definitely the right thing to do. He added a couple of meds to Lyrica to help with the pain and nerve control. He actually just returned from an international convention on CRPS. As soon as he has gathered and organized all of his new information, he's going to invite all of the CRPies (his words) to the office to meet and discuss it. I'm so interested! I'll let you all know when that goes down.
Mentally/Emotionally/Spiritually: Today, I feel good, although tired. I'm encouraged with my progress. I know that God has done a huge work in my life and continues to work. Praise the Lord! I'm looking forward to what He'll do throughout the rest of this roller coaster. I have learned a lot, and I know that I'll never be done learning. But, I'd be lying if I said that I always feel "good." If you've been following this process with me, you know that's not the case. I have bad days or hours or moments. There have been some really dark days and some really encouraging days. I have breakdowns and breakthroughs.
However, through it all, I have to go back to the words I wrote before my surgery two months ago:
I just have to hold onto the fact that God is in control, and He will carry me through it. He is good all the time.
He is working. He is healing. He is teaching. He is stretching. He is loving.
And thanks for your continued prayers and encouragement. I couldn't have made it this far without you all. :)
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Planes, Trains, and Automobiles Update!
Ok, more like walking, biking, and driving....but it's still exciting!
Just yesterday morning I was struggling with how I'd take my first steps. I couldn't fathom my brain telling my feet to actually step unassisted and them responding. I know it's a foreign concept to most, but I honestly couldn't figure out how I'd do it....
Then, midday, nothing short of a miracle happened. I took a step...on my own. And honestly? I don't even remember how it happened. I didn't struggle mentally with the process. I didn't consciously take a step. I didn't try for any particular reason.
It just happened.
And then I took a few more. I was shocked.
Was it easy? No way. But, I could do it.
God took away that mental battle completely. He literally made the lame walk. One minute I couldn't fathom even trying to take a step on my own. The next minute I was walking. I know that was not of my own strength.
Yesterday afternoon in physical therapy, I mentioned that I had taken some steps on my own. And guess what? The walker was pushed aside. I didn't use it at all while I was there.
I felt like I was walking on a balance beam or a tightrope (and I'm sure I looked much sillier). I had absolutely no balance. I was so slow. Each step felt like I was putting twice my body weight onto one foot. But, I was determined, I was being encouraged and cheered on, and it was great.
After physical therapy and dinner, we had a bit of time to spare, so Mom drove into the neighborhood where my home group is held and pulled over. I walked to the driver's side of the car and actually drove!
The first words out of my mouth? Why isn't the car going?
Mom: Because you're not pushing the pedal hard enough!
Weird! It's crazy how foreign a concept can become in just a few months...walking, driving...
I was able to pick up the pace, and I began to feel more comfortable. I'm actually going to try to drive myself to work tomorrow. I can't wait!
So how did today go? Well, I was super sore when I woke up--not uncommon--but I knew everything would loosen up a bit the more I moved.
I kept my walker with me throughout the day for balance, but I did walk some on my own. By the time I got to physical therapy, I was tired, but encouraged.
I set the walker aside as soon as I got there, did my exercises, walked my laps, got worked on (by my awesome PT), and actually hopped on (ok, carefully climbed onto) the stationary bike. I was a bit nervous at first, but it felt GREAT! It was amazing to get my legs moving again and my foot responded so well to it.
I put away a little over 4 miles in about 30 minutes. No swelling. No purple. Nothing.
What? Yesterday I couldn't even WALK!
In the words of my physical therapist: There is finally light at the end of the tunnel!
I'm not sure how big the spot of light is yet, but it's there!
30 And great crowds came to him, bringing with them the lame, the blind, the crippled, the mute, and many others, and they put them at his feet, and he healed them, 31 so that the crowd wondered, when they saw the mute speaking, the crippled healthy, the lame walking, and the blind seeing. And they glorified the God of Israel. (Matthew 15)
To God be the glory!
Just yesterday morning I was struggling with how I'd take my first steps. I couldn't fathom my brain telling my feet to actually step unassisted and them responding. I know it's a foreign concept to most, but I honestly couldn't figure out how I'd do it....
Then, midday, nothing short of a miracle happened. I took a step...on my own. And honestly? I don't even remember how it happened. I didn't struggle mentally with the process. I didn't consciously take a step. I didn't try for any particular reason.
It just happened.
And then I took a few more. I was shocked.
Was it easy? No way. But, I could do it.
God took away that mental battle completely. He literally made the lame walk. One minute I couldn't fathom even trying to take a step on my own. The next minute I was walking. I know that was not of my own strength.
Yesterday afternoon in physical therapy, I mentioned that I had taken some steps on my own. And guess what? The walker was pushed aside. I didn't use it at all while I was there.
I felt like I was walking on a balance beam or a tightrope (and I'm sure I looked much sillier). I had absolutely no balance. I was so slow. Each step felt like I was putting twice my body weight onto one foot. But, I was determined, I was being encouraged and cheered on, and it was great.
After physical therapy and dinner, we had a bit of time to spare, so Mom drove into the neighborhood where my home group is held and pulled over. I walked to the driver's side of the car and actually drove!
The first words out of my mouth? Why isn't the car going?
Mom: Because you're not pushing the pedal hard enough!
Weird! It's crazy how foreign a concept can become in just a few months...walking, driving...
I was able to pick up the pace, and I began to feel more comfortable. I'm actually going to try to drive myself to work tomorrow. I can't wait!
So how did today go? Well, I was super sore when I woke up--not uncommon--but I knew everything would loosen up a bit the more I moved.
I kept my walker with me throughout the day for balance, but I did walk some on my own. By the time I got to physical therapy, I was tired, but encouraged.
I set the walker aside as soon as I got there, did my exercises, walked my laps, got worked on (by my awesome PT), and actually hopped on (ok, carefully climbed onto) the stationary bike. I was a bit nervous at first, but it felt GREAT! It was amazing to get my legs moving again and my foot responded so well to it.
I put away a little over 4 miles in about 30 minutes. No swelling. No purple. Nothing.
What? Yesterday I couldn't even WALK!
In the words of my physical therapist: There is finally light at the end of the tunnel!
I'm not sure how big the spot of light is yet, but it's there!
Thank you, Jess for taking such good care of me.
Thank you God for your strength and continued healing.
30 And great crowds came to him, bringing with them the lame, the blind, the crippled, the mute, and many others, and they put them at his feet, and he healed them, 31 so that the crowd wondered, when they saw the mute speaking, the crippled healthy, the lame walking, and the blind seeing. And they glorified the God of Israel. (Matthew 15)
To God be the glory!
Saturday, September 22, 2012
From Hot Mess to Humbleness
On Thursday, I was a hot mess. You can read more about it here if you'd like. I was a bit anxious going into work on Friday--not knowing how my body would handle it.
I limited my walking. I didn't drink a lot of water so that I wouldn't have to go all the way to the office to use the restroom.
"My plan" was working out alright, but I was still frustrated--especially when I'd look out my window and see my coworkers and the kids walking freely down the hall.
Ok, Lord, today is a bit better than yesterday, but HOW LONG? How long must I wait? How long must I do this?
I glanced over and saw Jesus Calling by Sarah Young sitting on my desk. I'm not going to lie, I was reluctant to pick it up....
But I did. I opened to September 21st, and this is what Jesus spoke to my heart:
And after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire the sound of a low whisper. (1 Kings 19:12)
O Lord, in the morning you hear my voice; in the morning I prepare a sacrifice for you and watch. (Psalm 5:3)
Wait.
I'm not so great at waiting. Obviously.
I'm not so great at waiting. Obviously.
Dear Lord,
Amen
Thursday, September 20, 2012
The Best Laid Plans...
I had it all planned out.
Since I got my new fancy walker (the one with the seat and the basket), I decided that I didn't need my scooter anymore. The scooter was really doing a disservice to my foot anyway, so I could do without it, right?
Today was the day. I was going to use the walker all day today and come home and share about how great it was.
Well? I did use the walker all day.
And? It wasn't so great.
I guess there's something to be said for actually doing it. I suppose I just envisioned it going better than it did.
It. Was. So. Slow.
Just getting from the parking lot to my classroom seemed to take an eternity--not to mention the bus evacuation drill we had, going back and forth to the restroom, or the trip to and from the lounge at lunch.
I thought I would be happier about it. I thought tonight would be a time to celebrate. But instead, I'm just tired and discouraged.
My ankle currently hates me--it's not used to this movement or weight. The nerves in my hands are all whacked out from the walker--I'm praying that will go away eventually. And, my mind and heart are just whining--I'm sure that too will pass. :)
I don't want it to seem like I'm just complaining. I simply want to share my heart--through the good days and bad. I know we all have them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I did realize something about myself today (or maybe over the last week or so): my get-it-done-NOW personality definitely applies to "getting better" as well. I'm pretty much the opposite of a procrastinator. I'm definitely not saying this to brag--it can be quite a hinderance and challenge. I'm stubborn. When I start something, I want it done THEN (or yesterday). I can't stand putting things off until the last minute. It drives me CRAZY to leave a project (of any kind) unfinished....
And with my recovery? I want it done yesterday. It's so hard for me to focus on the "little victories." I am blinded by my bigger picture--I'm not walking normally yet. I get discouraged by days like this (those that didn't go as planned) instead of encouraged by what I did do.
I know God is working in my heart. I know He is still teaching me patience and how to rely on Him in everything. I can tell even as I'm writing right now that He is trying to break through my stubbornness and get me to focus on His bigger picture--He is with me, He will heal me.
In HIS time...
Since I got my new fancy walker (the one with the seat and the basket), I decided that I didn't need my scooter anymore. The scooter was really doing a disservice to my foot anyway, so I could do without it, right?
Today was the day. I was going to use the walker all day today and come home and share about how great it was.
Well? I did use the walker all day.
And? It wasn't so great.
I guess there's something to be said for actually doing it. I suppose I just envisioned it going better than it did.
It. Was. So. Slow.
Just getting from the parking lot to my classroom seemed to take an eternity--not to mention the bus evacuation drill we had, going back and forth to the restroom, or the trip to and from the lounge at lunch.
I thought I would be happier about it. I thought tonight would be a time to celebrate. But instead, I'm just tired and discouraged.
My ankle currently hates me--it's not used to this movement or weight. The nerves in my hands are all whacked out from the walker--I'm praying that will go away eventually. And, my mind and heart are just whining--I'm sure that too will pass. :)
I don't want it to seem like I'm just complaining. I simply want to share my heart--through the good days and bad. I know we all have them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I did realize something about myself today (or maybe over the last week or so): my get-it-done-NOW personality definitely applies to "getting better" as well. I'm pretty much the opposite of a procrastinator. I'm definitely not saying this to brag--it can be quite a hinderance and challenge. I'm stubborn. When I start something, I want it done THEN (or yesterday). I can't stand putting things off until the last minute. It drives me CRAZY to leave a project (of any kind) unfinished....
And with my recovery? I want it done yesterday. It's so hard for me to focus on the "little victories." I am blinded by my bigger picture--I'm not walking normally yet. I get discouraged by days like this (those that didn't go as planned) instead of encouraged by what I did do.
I know God is working in my heart. I know He is still teaching me patience and how to rely on Him in everything. I can tell even as I'm writing right now that He is trying to break through my stubbornness and get me to focus on His bigger picture--He is with me, He will heal me.
In HIS time...
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Walking and Tumbling.
Now, let's not get carried away... I'm "walking," definitely not tumbling, but we got to see a lot of tumbling this weekend. Let's start with the walking. If you need a bit of an update, click here.
Just last Thursday, the idea of walking absolutely petrified me. I couldn't wrap my brain around it. I couldn't quite figure it out. I was freaked.
I decided to take the walker to school on Friday and out of town this weekend. I used it as much as I could (definitely not into Staples Center, but in and out of restaurants and around the classroom, house, and hotel room).
It's definitely not easy, it takes forever to get anywhere, but my foot responds SO well to it--the color and swelling calm down whenever I walk. Jess (my PT) is a true genius. It's so encouraging to see some progress. Prior to last Thursday, I was getting quite discouraged. Now that I can see a positive response, I'm definitely more willing to push myself (and the girls at PT certainly love to push me). My hands, ankle, and foot definitely hurt, but that's a small price to pay to "walk." Yesterday and today I only used my scooter in the morning and back and forth to the office. Today I even "walked" to the library with one class. I still haven't quite figured out how to get around without the use of my hands, but my mom and the kids have been helpful.
I guess it can only get better from here, right?
Ok, enough walk talk--onto the tumbling.
On Saturday, my mom and I went to see the tour of Gymnastics Champions at the Staple Center. It. Was. Awesome!
Just last Thursday, the idea of walking absolutely petrified me. I couldn't wrap my brain around it. I couldn't quite figure it out. I was freaked.
I decided to take the walker to school on Friday and out of town this weekend. I used it as much as I could (definitely not into Staples Center, but in and out of restaurants and around the classroom, house, and hotel room).
It's definitely not easy, it takes forever to get anywhere, but my foot responds SO well to it--the color and swelling calm down whenever I walk. Jess (my PT) is a true genius. It's so encouraging to see some progress. Prior to last Thursday, I was getting quite discouraged. Now that I can see a positive response, I'm definitely more willing to push myself (and the girls at PT certainly love to push me). My hands, ankle, and foot definitely hurt, but that's a small price to pay to "walk." Yesterday and today I only used my scooter in the morning and back and forth to the office. Today I even "walked" to the library with one class. I still haven't quite figured out how to get around without the use of my hands, but my mom and the kids have been helpful.
I guess it can only get better from here, right?
Ok, enough walk talk--onto the tumbling.
On Saturday, my mom and I went to see the tour of Gymnastics Champions at the Staple Center. It. Was. Awesome!
The men, of course, were AMAZING.
They had far too much fun doing their "tricks."
The US Women's gold medal soccer team was there to watch the show as well!
LOVE.
This was probably my favorite part.
LOVE these girls--especially the one on the bottom right, Alica Sacramone--favorite!!!
Here is part of Aly Raisman's gold medal winning floor routine. Love her!
Here are the guys having far too much fun on the Olympic rings. Enjoy!
I can't say that I'll be tumbling--EVER--but I'm confident that I'll walk normally again.
Thanks for all your prayers and encouragement. Thanks, Jess, for your knowledge and willingness to push me. Thank you, God, for your continued healing and strength.
Saturday, September 15, 2012
I Walked Yesterday...
...kind of...
Let's rewind a bit.
Tuesday evening, Wednesday, and Thursday morning were rough. More pain. Darker color. Color rising higher on my ankle. Super discouraged.
Thursday afternoon I went back to physical therapy (my home away from home).
I sat down, Jess (my PT) looked down at my foot, and immediately made a face.
Jess: Your foot is telling me that it needs to be down. We need to get you off of that scooter--it's keeping your foot up too much. What about crutches? A walker? It's quite a Catch 22--we need to get your foot down, but you can't walk yet. We need to think through this....
As I struggled to listen, tears burned my eyes. I fought them back. What was running through my mind? I can't. I need my hands. How will I work? It'll hurt too much. I'm scared....and on and on and on.
Jess: Let's get the walker. Will you try walking for me?
I looked up and hesitantly nodded. Apparently I wasn't convincing.
Jess: Are you sure you want to try?
Me: I'll do whatever you think is best. I trust you.
And I do. Completely. As scared as I was, I was willing. I trust Jess. I know she knows what she's talking about.
I stood up with the walker. With Jess making sure I was stable, I tentatively took a "step." To be clear, a "step" means that my weight was on my left foot and my hands while my right foot "went through the motions." It took absolutely all of my concentration and will power to keep my right foot touching the floor as I "walked" across to another chair.
My hands started sweating. I started getting dizzy. But, I made it. And shockingly, my foot handled it quite well. It seemed to like "walking" better than sitting or standing.
I did my "lap" a few more times. Jess said that I got a gold star for the day.
Time to celebrate, right? Well, that's what one would think.
However, my brain and heart were not there. Sure, this was a "big step," but I was just frustrated and freaked. This Catch 22 was really catching me up. How can I do this at work? I need my hands. This hurts. This is hard. If the scooter is "making things worse" then I don't want to use it at all. But, I can't do without it yet. I need to find a balance. What does that look like? What do I do?--a tornado of thoughts bombarded me.
Jess and my mom were so excited as we left with yet another walker (one for home and one for work), but I was overwhelmed.
We went to a friend's house for dinner. I burst into tears as we pulled up into the driveway. I had to pull it together. I didn't want to go in, but I'm so glad I did. It was a great distraction and a good encouragement.
God certainly does continue to provide.
As we returned home yesterday evening, I received a card in the mail from the brother and sister in law. This poem was on the front:
That was exactly what I needed. Thanks Bubba and Polly, and thanks God for using them to again show me Your love and encouragement.
And, as is often the case, the morning brings new perspective and hope. My torrent of questions and fear and uncertainty began to clear a bit. Determination set in.
I took the walker to work today. I actually did a few "laps" back and forth from the front of my room to my desk and back again. I tried "walking" with slippers, but my left foot couldn't handle the lack of support. I tried my sandals, but my right foot got too swollen. I'm still trying to figure out a happy medium, but at least I'm trying...
It wasn't easy. I was scared. It hurt like crazy. But, God has promised strength, rest, light, grace, help, sympathy, and love.
Hopefully and prayerfully I'll be able to put some weight on my foot soon. I don't know when I'll truly be able to walk again, but I have to trust in God's strength. I have no other choice.
Thanks for your continued encouragement and prayers.
Let's rewind a bit.
Tuesday evening, Wednesday, and Thursday morning were rough. More pain. Darker color. Color rising higher on my ankle. Super discouraged.
Thursday afternoon I went back to physical therapy (my home away from home).
I sat down, Jess (my PT) looked down at my foot, and immediately made a face.
Jess: Your foot is telling me that it needs to be down. We need to get you off of that scooter--it's keeping your foot up too much. What about crutches? A walker? It's quite a Catch 22--we need to get your foot down, but you can't walk yet. We need to think through this....
As I struggled to listen, tears burned my eyes. I fought them back. What was running through my mind? I can't. I need my hands. How will I work? It'll hurt too much. I'm scared....and on and on and on.
Jess: Let's get the walker. Will you try walking for me?
I looked up and hesitantly nodded. Apparently I wasn't convincing.
Jess: Are you sure you want to try?
Me: I'll do whatever you think is best. I trust you.
And I do. Completely. As scared as I was, I was willing. I trust Jess. I know she knows what she's talking about.
I stood up with the walker. With Jess making sure I was stable, I tentatively took a "step." To be clear, a "step" means that my weight was on my left foot and my hands while my right foot "went through the motions." It took absolutely all of my concentration and will power to keep my right foot touching the floor as I "walked" across to another chair.
My hands started sweating. I started getting dizzy. But, I made it. And shockingly, my foot handled it quite well. It seemed to like "walking" better than sitting or standing.
I did my "lap" a few more times. Jess said that I got a gold star for the day.
Time to celebrate, right? Well, that's what one would think.
However, my brain and heart were not there. Sure, this was a "big step," but I was just frustrated and freaked. This Catch 22 was really catching me up. How can I do this at work? I need my hands. This hurts. This is hard. If the scooter is "making things worse" then I don't want to use it at all. But, I can't do without it yet. I need to find a balance. What does that look like? What do I do?--a tornado of thoughts bombarded me.
Jess and my mom were so excited as we left with yet another walker (one for home and one for work), but I was overwhelmed.
We went to a friend's house for dinner. I burst into tears as we pulled up into the driveway. I had to pull it together. I didn't want to go in, but I'm so glad I did. It was a great distraction and a good encouragement.
God certainly does continue to provide.
As we returned home yesterday evening, I received a card in the mail from the brother and sister in law. This poem was on the front:
God has not promised
Skies always blue,
Flower-strewn pathways
All our lives through;
God has not promised
Sun without rain,
Joy without sorrow,
Peace without pain.
Skies always blue,
Flower-strewn pathways
All our lives through;
God has not promised
Sun without rain,
Joy without sorrow,
Peace without pain.
But God has promised
Strength for the day,
Rest for the laborer,
Light for the way,
Grace for the trials,
Help from above,
Unfailing sympathy,
Strength for the day,
Rest for the laborer,
Light for the way,
Grace for the trials,
Help from above,
Unfailing sympathy,
Undying love.
-Annie Johnson Flint
That was exactly what I needed. Thanks Bubba and Polly, and thanks God for using them to again show me Your love and encouragement.
And, as is often the case, the morning brings new perspective and hope. My torrent of questions and fear and uncertainty began to clear a bit. Determination set in.
I took the walker to work today. I actually did a few "laps" back and forth from the front of my room to my desk and back again. I tried "walking" with slippers, but my left foot couldn't handle the lack of support. I tried my sandals, but my right foot got too swollen. I'm still trying to figure out a happy medium, but at least I'm trying...
It wasn't easy. I was scared. It hurt like crazy. But, God has promised strength, rest, light, grace, help, sympathy, and love.
Hopefully and prayerfully I'll be able to put some weight on my foot soon. I don't know when I'll truly be able to walk again, but I have to trust in God's strength. I have no other choice.
Thanks for your continued encouragement and prayers.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Lessons Learned.
Last night at home group, my (oh-so-wise) pastor prayed that God would bring healing and comfort to me during this time. Not so out of the ordinary--many people have been praying that exact prayer (and I'm incredibly grateful!).
However, he also added something along these lines: I pray that You will teach Amy everything you have for her during this time until You choose to heal her.
My first gut reaction? I want to be done learning! I want to walk and drive again! This is taking forever!
But, his prayer kept spinning through my mind...
...last night...
...this morning...
...throughout the day.
The picture that accompanied those words? A screaming, crying, tantrum of a toddler fighting a time out.
To a little one, time outs last for eternity. They are a way for a loving parent to teach a young child a lesson. However, the child often cannot see or understand the lesson during the time out--they are too focused on the pain. Why? This is unfair! This isn't fun! I'm sick of this! Don't you love me?
Of course the parent loves the child--that's why the little one is in a time out. Lessons are taught out of love. Eventually the little one will come to understand the lesson and the love enveloped in it.
Now, I'm not saying that every trial or struggle we experience is because we did something wrong or need a time out. That "picture" may not fit the situation perfectly. But, at times I do see myself as a screaming, fighting, crying toddler not wanting to "serve my time" during this period of my life. I want out. I want it to be over. I don't care about the lesson.
But, the lessons are enveloped in love. Didn't I just write that?
My God loves me more than I can ever understand. He cares about each tear, each struggle, every second I start to freak out, each moment of pain. He wants to teach me because He loves me.
So, I'm going to do my darndest (with His strength of course because mine is all gone) to learn all that He has for me during this time.
I'll share a few lessons with you now...and try to add to the list as they arise:
1. I have learned patience--everything I do takes planning. I have to think about basically every move before I make it. I'm slower. Everything takes a lot longer.
2. I have learned to let go of control (or I'm trying to)--this is a HUGE struggle for this ridiculously independent girl. I need help with basically everything: making food, getting clothes out, laundry, getting anywhere (I can't drive), etc. It's not easy to be dependent.
3. I have learned to count my blessings--people have been amazing, and I certainly can't ignore that. I have been told just about every day for weeks that someone is praying for me. People have given me rides, helped me make copies, gotten me things I couldn't reach, checked on me during the day, etc. People have been so good at loving me.
God has been so good at showing His love for me through His people.
I pray that I will keep learning all that God has for me during this time, until He chooses to heal me.
I pray that I'll be able to focus on His love and the blessings He has given me through His children--especially on the harder days.
However, he also added something along these lines: I pray that You will teach Amy everything you have for her during this time until You choose to heal her.
My first gut reaction? I want to be done learning! I want to walk and drive again! This is taking forever!
But, his prayer kept spinning through my mind...
...last night...
...this morning...
...throughout the day.
The picture that accompanied those words? A screaming, crying, tantrum of a toddler fighting a time out.
To a little one, time outs last for eternity. They are a way for a loving parent to teach a young child a lesson. However, the child often cannot see or understand the lesson during the time out--they are too focused on the pain. Why? This is unfair! This isn't fun! I'm sick of this! Don't you love me?
Of course the parent loves the child--that's why the little one is in a time out. Lessons are taught out of love. Eventually the little one will come to understand the lesson and the love enveloped in it.
Now, I'm not saying that every trial or struggle we experience is because we did something wrong or need a time out. That "picture" may not fit the situation perfectly. But, at times I do see myself as a screaming, fighting, crying toddler not wanting to "serve my time" during this period of my life. I want out. I want it to be over. I don't care about the lesson.
But, the lessons are enveloped in love. Didn't I just write that?
My God loves me more than I can ever understand. He cares about each tear, each struggle, every second I start to freak out, each moment of pain. He wants to teach me because He loves me.
So, I'm going to do my darndest (with His strength of course because mine is all gone) to learn all that He has for me during this time.
I'll share a few lessons with you now...and try to add to the list as they arise:
1. I have learned patience--everything I do takes planning. I have to think about basically every move before I make it. I'm slower. Everything takes a lot longer.
2. I have learned to let go of control (or I'm trying to)--this is a HUGE struggle for this ridiculously independent girl. I need help with basically everything: making food, getting clothes out, laundry, getting anywhere (I can't drive), etc. It's not easy to be dependent.
3. I have learned to count my blessings--people have been amazing, and I certainly can't ignore that. I have been told just about every day for weeks that someone is praying for me. People have given me rides, helped me make copies, gotten me things I couldn't reach, checked on me during the day, etc. People have been so good at loving me.
God has been so good at showing His love for me through His people.
I pray that I will keep learning all that God has for me during this time, until He chooses to heal me.
I pray that I'll be able to focus on His love and the blessings He has given me through His children--especially on the harder days.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Just to Clarify...
Yesterday was a rough day.
I wrote this post to help me work through what I was feeling, to show that I'm not always strong, to show that I am human...
I could have gone to bed frustrated and upset, or I could have worked through my feelings. I'm pretty sure the latter approach is the healthier one.
We all have bad days, and it should be ok to talk about those as well as the good ones.
I did not write it as an outcry for attention or support--I'm certainly getting plenty of that. People have been amazing, and I've been so blessed.
And I also don't want anyone to get the wrong impression--I'm not giving up or slipping into depression. I will continue to fight. Some days (like yesterday) I just don't want to--but that doesn't mean I won't.
God's mercies are new every morning.
A little sleep, a good cry, and a little perspective go a long way. Although I still don't feel great, I'm confident that today will be a better day.
On a good note--my foot has been on the floor for about 15 minutes and it's not completely swollen and dark purple yet. I guess we have to celebrate the small stuff. :)
Thanks for continuing to pray--through the good days and the bad....
I wrote this post to help me work through what I was feeling, to show that I'm not always strong, to show that I am human...
I could have gone to bed frustrated and upset, or I could have worked through my feelings. I'm pretty sure the latter approach is the healthier one.
We all have bad days, and it should be ok to talk about those as well as the good ones.
I did not write it as an outcry for attention or support--I'm certainly getting plenty of that. People have been amazing, and I've been so blessed.
And I also don't want anyone to get the wrong impression--I'm not giving up or slipping into depression. I will continue to fight. Some days (like yesterday) I just don't want to--but that doesn't mean I won't.
God's mercies are new every morning.
A little sleep, a good cry, and a little perspective go a long way. Although I still don't feel great, I'm confident that today will be a better day.
On a good note--my foot has been on the floor for about 15 minutes and it's not completely swollen and dark purple yet. I guess we have to celebrate the small stuff. :)
Thanks for continuing to pray--through the good days and the bad....
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Some Days are Better Than Others...
...today was an "other" day.
Disclaimer: I'm honest in this post, and it's not always pretty. Just so you know...
Today I woke up with a sore throat and stuffy nose on top of the "normal" pain. My first thoughts?
I don't have the strength to deal with this. I can't do it. This is just too much....
I'm tired.
I'm tired of being in constant pain. I'm tired of not feeling well. I'm tired of asking for help. I'm tired of not walking, not driving, not being independent. Not knowing...
Can I do this? Can I go to physical therapy each day and be "happy" with the fact that I can set my foot on the ground for a few minutes and do a few simple exercises? Can I handle not having a light at the end of the tunnel?
Some days, yes. Days like today? No.
I had to hold back tears all morning. I wanted to snap at people who asked me when I'd walk again. I wanted to scream every time someone told me my foot looked better. Really? Compared to what? Because it looks exactly the same as it did last week--disgusting. I wanted to jump up and down and throw something. But, I can't even stand up.
This was not the plan.
My patience is gone. Completely. I want to curl up in bed and stay there. It doesn't hurt when I'm asleep.
I should probably head there now. A good sleep always helps. Crying also helps. I've done it the whole time I've been writing. I just needed to let this all out. I needed to be honest--and not just on the good days.
"Is it not from the mouth of the Most High that good and bad come?" ~Lamentations 3:38
Today was bad--pretty darn bad. But, I know there will be good days as well. I know God's strength is made perfect in my weakness. I know He will never leave me. I know He will carry me through this...
...but why can't my heart always believe what I know to be true in my head?
I guess some days are just "other" days, and I pray I don't have many more of them...
Disclaimer: I'm honest in this post, and it's not always pretty. Just so you know...
Today I woke up with a sore throat and stuffy nose on top of the "normal" pain. My first thoughts?
I don't have the strength to deal with this. I can't do it. This is just too much....
I'm tired.
I'm tired of being in constant pain. I'm tired of not feeling well. I'm tired of asking for help. I'm tired of not walking, not driving, not being independent. Not knowing...
Can I do this? Can I go to physical therapy each day and be "happy" with the fact that I can set my foot on the ground for a few minutes and do a few simple exercises? Can I handle not having a light at the end of the tunnel?
Some days, yes. Days like today? No.
I had to hold back tears all morning. I wanted to snap at people who asked me when I'd walk again. I wanted to scream every time someone told me my foot looked better. Really? Compared to what? Because it looks exactly the same as it did last week--disgusting. I wanted to jump up and down and throw something. But, I can't even stand up.
This was not the plan.
My patience is gone. Completely. I want to curl up in bed and stay there. It doesn't hurt when I'm asleep.
I should probably head there now. A good sleep always helps. Crying also helps. I've done it the whole time I've been writing. I just needed to let this all out. I needed to be honest--and not just on the good days.
"Is it not from the mouth of the Most High that good and bad come?" ~Lamentations 3:38
Today was bad--pretty darn bad. But, I know there will be good days as well. I know God's strength is made perfect in my weakness. I know He will never leave me. I know He will carry me through this...
...but why can't my heart always believe what I know to be true in my head?
I guess some days are just "other" days, and I pray I don't have many more of them...
Saturday, September 1, 2012
God is Working.
Wednesday held a huge shock to say the least.
Thursday held endless questions--many that I simply could not answer because I didn't really understand what was going on myself.
Thursday afternoon held comfort--physical therapy. No, it wasn't "comfortable" in the physical sense. It actually made me hot and dizzy and sweaty. I turned bright red. I cried. But, Jess, my physical therapist, put me at ease. I trust her knowledge, her experience, her compassion, her love for her patients, her.
She is a huge answer to prayer.
We practiced placing my foot on the ground. A huge feat. We practiced standing up with a walker--all the weight being on my left foot, my right foot just touching the ground.
I'd say we're taking it one step at a time, but it's actually a bit slower than that.
The ladies doing therapy at the same time I was were fascinated. People stared. People asked questions. Jess explained what was going on as simply as she could. I wish I could remember her words so I could relay them to you, but I don't. I just remember that my nervous system is out of whack, it's getting the wrong signals, and we need to re-train it. It will respond to normal stimuli as gently as possible. I need to keep my foot touching the ground as much as I can--until it swells and turns darker purple (or until I get too sweaty or nauseous--all part of the whacked out nervous system). It's not easy. It's scary. But, I have to get well. Jess is confident that I will. She knows we can do it with therapy--not a nerve block.
Friday held more appointments--the pain management doctor and more physical therapy.
I was nervous. I was torn. My foot doctor wanted me to have a nerve block. I trust him, but I was unsure. Jess didn't think it was a good idea. I completely trust her. I didn't know what to do. I prayed for wisdom. Many of you prayed for wisdom. I saw the doctor, and he decided to put me on Lyrica and keep me in therapy. No nerve block for now. I'll go back in two weeks.
I didn't have to make the decision on my own. God gave me the answer. That was another huge answer to prayer!
Friday night held the circus--I was so so excited, but nervous about how I'd get to my seat. Jess told me to just wheel in on my scooter and see if they'd accommodate me. I prayed I'd be able to get a handicap seat.
And? We did! All four of us. God is handing out the answers right and left.
I absolutely loved the circus. It was a great way to keep my mind occupied.
Saturday held Brooke's shower out of town. I couldn't decide if I wanted to go. I didn't know if I could handle it. I wanted to, but I was scared. I prayed about it. I decided to give it a shot.
It was a beautiful shower. I'm so glad I went, but it was difficult. A waitress dropped a knife on my foot (yes, the bad one). I couldn't quite get comfortable, but that's my reality these days. I had a few minutes of panic afterward when my foot started getting too dark and the swelling wouldn't go down. We left and I tried so hard to keep my mind occupied. I looked through a catalogue; I closed my eyes and tried to relax; I worked on school work--my foot eventually calmed down.
God would not leave me.
And all of you? You've been amazing. I've been so blessed by all of your love and encouragement and prayers. It has warmed my heart and kept me going the last few days. I cannot thank you enough.
You're all an answer to prayer!
Thursday held endless questions--many that I simply could not answer because I didn't really understand what was going on myself.
Thursday afternoon held comfort--physical therapy. No, it wasn't "comfortable" in the physical sense. It actually made me hot and dizzy and sweaty. I turned bright red. I cried. But, Jess, my physical therapist, put me at ease. I trust her knowledge, her experience, her compassion, her love for her patients, her.
She is a huge answer to prayer.
We practiced placing my foot on the ground. A huge feat. We practiced standing up with a walker--all the weight being on my left foot, my right foot just touching the ground.
I'd say we're taking it one step at a time, but it's actually a bit slower than that.
The ladies doing therapy at the same time I was were fascinated. People stared. People asked questions. Jess explained what was going on as simply as she could. I wish I could remember her words so I could relay them to you, but I don't. I just remember that my nervous system is out of whack, it's getting the wrong signals, and we need to re-train it. It will respond to normal stimuli as gently as possible. I need to keep my foot touching the ground as much as I can--until it swells and turns darker purple (or until I get too sweaty or nauseous--all part of the whacked out nervous system). It's not easy. It's scary. But, I have to get well. Jess is confident that I will. She knows we can do it with therapy--not a nerve block.
Friday held more appointments--the pain management doctor and more physical therapy.
I was nervous. I was torn. My foot doctor wanted me to have a nerve block. I trust him, but I was unsure. Jess didn't think it was a good idea. I completely trust her. I didn't know what to do. I prayed for wisdom. Many of you prayed for wisdom. I saw the doctor, and he decided to put me on Lyrica and keep me in therapy. No nerve block for now. I'll go back in two weeks.
I didn't have to make the decision on my own. God gave me the answer. That was another huge answer to prayer!
Friday night held the circus--I was so so excited, but nervous about how I'd get to my seat. Jess told me to just wheel in on my scooter and see if they'd accommodate me. I prayed I'd be able to get a handicap seat.
And? We did! All four of us. God is handing out the answers right and left.
I absolutely loved the circus. It was a great way to keep my mind occupied.
Saturday held Brooke's shower out of town. I couldn't decide if I wanted to go. I didn't know if I could handle it. I wanted to, but I was scared. I prayed about it. I decided to give it a shot.
It was a beautiful shower. I'm so glad I went, but it was difficult. A waitress dropped a knife on my foot (yes, the bad one). I couldn't quite get comfortable, but that's my reality these days. I had a few minutes of panic afterward when my foot started getting too dark and the swelling wouldn't go down. We left and I tried so hard to keep my mind occupied. I looked through a catalogue; I closed my eyes and tried to relax; I worked on school work--my foot eventually calmed down.
God would not leave me.
And all of you? You've been amazing. I've been so blessed by all of your love and encouragement and prayers. It has warmed my heart and kept me going the last few days. I cannot thank you enough.
You're all an answer to prayer!
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
You Just Never Know...
Things can change in a minute.
Today was the day! The day I was going to get my cast off. I woke up excited. I went through each class period excited.
3:30 could not come soon enough....
I knew I had a rough road ahead. I knew I wasn't going to be walking out of the doctor's office. I knew I'd be going to physical therapy. I knew it would be hard.
I was ready. I was ready to take a shower, ready to wiggle my toes fully, ready to get rid of this super funny feeling in my foot...
I giggled while the guy took my cast off (it does feel super funny), and I was anxious to see my foot.
It was finally off.
And my foot....looked....different. The colors were off. It was swollen. Ok, so it's been in a cast for a month. No big deal, right?
Doc comes in--not mine, but another one (mine would pop in later)--and starts looking at my foot, and touching in, and running his fingers across my foot and leg, and poking certain parts of my foot and leg.
His face looked off.
He said he was really concerned.
It was so cold in the room--I was freezing, and freaked, and I couldn't stop shaking. He wanted to get Dr. Z in the room before he was certain of what he was seeing, but he thought it was CRPS...
Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (Doc made me swear not to google it. If you choose to, please don't say anything to me about it).
He left. We waited. I shook.
My doc came in, looked down, and exclaimed, "No, no, no, no, no, no!" No joke. Those are never words you want to hear out of your doctor's mouth. Ever.
He explained that it can happen with trauma (and a surgery is a trauma), but he was baffled--the surgery went so well, everything seemed fine, but something triggered it.
The nervous system went into some sort of shock and freaked out and messed stuff up (that's all technically medical of course).
I just sat and held back tears and tried my hardest to listen. He kept saying--we will fix this, we will get ahead of this, this won't get the best of you! Apparently this is a really big deal...
What now?
Physical therapy stat. Pain management center stat for a nerve block in my back of some sort (that sure made those welling tears start to fall...).
Keep working so that I'll be distracted and not be thinking about the pain. Keep focused. Don't let me pain get ahead of me.
Is this really happening?
They wanted me to get into one of those places this afternoon, but neither office answered. Doc told me they'd keep calling and get me in ASAP--obviously the sooner the better.
I have my physical therapist's cell number, so I shot a text out and told her what was going on. And guess what? She wrote her doctoral thesis on this very thing. :::Sigh of relief::: God is good. He's putting me in good hands...
I trust that He will carry me through this. I trust that He can work a miracle.
I feel somewhat validated for being in so much pain--I guess it's not just because I'm weaksauce.
You just never know. Things can change in a minute. I knew I'd have a long road ahead--I just never imagined it'd take this turn.
So I'll keep letting God drive, even though it's not easy. I have to lean on Him, because I (literally) don't have strength of my own. I'll let him work a miracle and heal me if He wills.
I'll hang on. Pray for me? Thanks. :)
Today was the day! The day I was going to get my cast off. I woke up excited. I went through each class period excited.
3:30 could not come soon enough....
I knew I had a rough road ahead. I knew I wasn't going to be walking out of the doctor's office. I knew I'd be going to physical therapy. I knew it would be hard.
I was ready. I was ready to take a shower, ready to wiggle my toes fully, ready to get rid of this super funny feeling in my foot...
I giggled while the guy took my cast off (it does feel super funny), and I was anxious to see my foot.
It was finally off.
And my foot....looked....different. The colors were off. It was swollen. Ok, so it's been in a cast for a month. No big deal, right?
Doc comes in--not mine, but another one (mine would pop in later)--and starts looking at my foot, and touching in, and running his fingers across my foot and leg, and poking certain parts of my foot and leg.
His face looked off.
He said he was really concerned.
It was so cold in the room--I was freezing, and freaked, and I couldn't stop shaking. He wanted to get Dr. Z in the room before he was certain of what he was seeing, but he thought it was CRPS...
Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (Doc made me swear not to google it. If you choose to, please don't say anything to me about it).
He left. We waited. I shook.
My doc came in, looked down, and exclaimed, "No, no, no, no, no, no!" No joke. Those are never words you want to hear out of your doctor's mouth. Ever.
He explained that it can happen with trauma (and a surgery is a trauma), but he was baffled--the surgery went so well, everything seemed fine, but something triggered it.
The nervous system went into some sort of shock and freaked out and messed stuff up (that's all technically medical of course).
I just sat and held back tears and tried my hardest to listen. He kept saying--we will fix this, we will get ahead of this, this won't get the best of you! Apparently this is a really big deal...
What now?
Physical therapy stat. Pain management center stat for a nerve block in my back of some sort (that sure made those welling tears start to fall...).
Keep working so that I'll be distracted and not be thinking about the pain. Keep focused. Don't let me pain get ahead of me.
Is this really happening?
They wanted me to get into one of those places this afternoon, but neither office answered. Doc told me they'd keep calling and get me in ASAP--obviously the sooner the better.
I have my physical therapist's cell number, so I shot a text out and told her what was going on. And guess what? She wrote her doctoral thesis on this very thing. :::Sigh of relief::: God is good. He's putting me in good hands...
I trust that He will carry me through this. I trust that He can work a miracle.
I feel somewhat validated for being in so much pain--I guess it's not just because I'm weaksauce.
You just never know. Things can change in a minute. I knew I'd have a long road ahead--I just never imagined it'd take this turn.
So I'll keep letting God drive, even though it's not easy. I have to lean on Him, because I (literally) don't have strength of my own. I'll let him work a miracle and heal me if He wills.
I'll hang on. Pray for me? Thanks. :)
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
"How To" Tutorial
This is a tutorial to walk you through the ways to pass the time while stuck in a cast on hot summer days:
1. Help your mother with her school projects.
2. Watch ALL of the Olympics (if you're fortunate enough to be in cast during such a time).
1. Help your mother with her school projects.
3. Play some iPhone games (such as Words with Friends and FLOW).
4. Make an AWESOMELY cute seat crate to rest your cast on when you have to go back to work.
5. Fix up your scooter: Add stuffing so that your knee can stop killing you as you roll around, and add some fabric to the top so you don't keep sweating all over the place in the hot summer weather.
6. Read A LOT on your awesome Kindle Fire!
7. Watch some (or all of) Downton Abbey for free (if you have Amazon Prime)! Love!
8. Build up your endurance by doing laps around Target (simply because it's far too hot to do such rehab outdoors).
9. Doodle on your cast--it'll bring you much joy.
10. Entertain visitors!
(A picture of your visitors goes here!)
I hope you enjoyed this tutorial. If you have any additional steps you'd like to suggest, please comment below!
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