What a strange series of events. As you (likely) know – since virtually nobody except my friends, family and acquaintances read this – I’m currently at home in my recliner, recovering from a second knee surgery in as many years. It’s been an introspective time around here, and I’ve been pretty thankful for the opportunity to sit in solitude and enjoy the peace of my home as I take painkillers, have other people fetch and carry and cook for me, and catch up on reruns of “Castle” and “Once Upon A Time.” I think this phase is about to get old though, as I am now finished only TWO weeks of my leave and have 10 weeks to go before I am likely allowed to return to work. That’s not a problem for me to be concerned about today, though.
What I am concerned about today are all my hurting and injured friends. A couple of weeks ago, one friend had complications from a simple medical procedure and ended up having emergency surgery. Another friend slipped on a wet patch in her own bathroom and broke her arm. A friend in California is having surgery today to have a few stubborn kidney stones removed. Today I learned that my beloved friend Margie fell on a patch of ice yesterday and broke her shoulder and wrist.
My own original injury from 2010 was due to the tiniest pebble you’ve ever seen. One minute I was walking and bantering with my family, and the next was flat on the pavement and heading for 19 months (and counting!) of surgeries & rehab.
One minute, Carol was fine, the next minute down on the cold floor. One minute, Margie was striding along a chilly Saskatoon street, and the next minute... well, you get the idea.
And since life is all about ME, I am feeling so bad about not being able to pitch in and help these dear ones out when they need me. Thankfully there are many others around to pitch in instead.
So please say a little prayer for me and my friends. And, please, watch out for the little things, because you never know when they are going to knock you flat.
1 comment:
Thank you for being an "armchair prayer warrior" for me today. Those stubborn stones are out, and I even got to bring one home in a jar as a lovely parting gift. As I went through all the surgical prep and recovery, I couldn't help but think of my aging process, and that this is probably only the beginning of this body falling apart. (OK, it probably didn't help to see that I was the youngest patient in the Day Stay by at least 30 years...) I heard my heart rate increase on the monitor as my anxiety starting getting the best of me. I don't want to grow old! I don't want to have to be taken care of! I don't want to deal all of this! Then... As I prayed... My monitor beeps slowed... And I realized that God was there. In the room. In the Day Stay. In my life. The old saying rings true, "I may not know what the future holds, but I know Who holds the future." so that's my deep, Vicodin-induced thought of the day. But it's a good one, yes? :-)
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