Nothing Profound

I have so many exciting and creative ideas in my brain right now, and I’m not going to share any of them! I am quite sure that 99% of said ideas are fuelled by Percoset, and so I think it would be better to hand on to any shreds of self-respect I still have by keeping them to myself!

It’s great to be on the “done” side of Wednesday’s surgery. All went according to plan, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t have a few moments (quite a few, actually) of anxiety and panicky feelings in the days leading up to Wednesday. I will spare you most of the details of the day, but here are a few, without being too boring, I hope!

First of all, Banff hospital is a really nice place – for a hospital! It’s much more personal – first name basis for everyone, please, including the 3 doctors in the surgery. (Laurie, Harry, and some other guy who’s name I can’t remember, sorry, Dr!) The nurses were just the right mix of friendly and efficient, and were never too busy to stop awhile and listen to me chatter or bring me something to make me comfortable.) Pretty good food, incredible views out the window, you get the idea.

More and more surgeries are now performed using a spinal block instead of a general anaesthesia. This meant that I was awake and alert for the first part of the operation, and was able to chat and answer (and ask!) questions of the docs and nurses. My surgeon was so excited to work on my weird knee, and even thanked me for letting her operate on it. (“I LOVE to start my day with an interesting knee!”) I got to watch the first part of the surgery as she explored the whole knee using a scope to look around. She was making her “to-do list” and also confirming that she could do everything she’d planned. Once she called for a knife, though, the anaesthetist winked at me and said “Aw, the next part is too boring to watch!” and he turned off my screen. He also added a little something to my iv that made me really, really relaxed. I mean, REALLY. Still awake, but really didn’t care too much about anything. As soon as the surgery was done he shut off everything and I was totally alert again within 5 minutes. No struggling to swim up from the depths of a general anaesthetic, no 2 or 3 days of feeling like I’d been run over by a moose. (It was Banff, after all!) I felt pretty good – until the spinal wore off. At that point the anaesthetist put in a femoral nerve block, so I didn’t need any other pain meds for about 10 hours. Beautiful.

OK, too much detail, moving on. Let me just say that I am home, well taken care of by my family, and spending 16 hours a day on the couch with my leg elevated and ice water circulating around my knee. The other 8 hours a day, I am in my bed, with my leg elevated, and ice water circulating around my knee. Poor Steve is exhausted with waiting on me, changing my ice, feeding the dogs, on and on.

I have so much to be grateful for today! Here is today’s instalment toward 1000 gifts:
44. Total bill so far for about $15,000 worth of medical care this week: $129.
45. A cool (literally) pump that circulates ice water around my knee 24 hours a day to try & keep the swelling down.
46. Flowers from my wonderful Mommy. (via Kim & April, her accomplices.)
47. Flowers from our connecting group.
48. A yummy meal on Friday from sweet Shirley – also part of our connecting group.
49. Comfort food last night courtesy of my beloved Kerry – including warm cinnamon buns and a fresh banana loaf. Friends are wonderful, aren’t they?
50. Skittles, who lay on my chest all morning while the family was away at church – apparently it was his job to keep an eye on me.
51. Painkillers- not gonna lie, this makes all the difference.
52. The internet – I feel much more in touch with the world than I thought I would be.
53. Our beautiful art in our family room – I haven’t taken time in years to really look at all the nice things we have. It’s a gift to really look with new eyes at these things that have meaning to us.
54. The big tree in our backyard is full of busy sparrows and chickadees. What a joyful kerfuffle they make.
55. My little red laptop that Steve gave me last time I had knee surgery. Such a gift to have a way to stay connected. (see #52)
56. The new teachers report that my studentss are transitioning well. I’m so relieved!
57. A sweet card and book from the choir at Bethany. I love that musical community and will miss it while I’m down.
58. This phenomenal weather – I was able to sit in the sun on our front porch yesterday and enjoy the fresh air. Benton & his Venturers company went winter camping this weekend and slept in quinzhees. (That’s a self-dug snow cave, as you surely know already.) So great to not have to worry about the weather!
59. Fuzzy slippers
60. The entire first three seasons of Castle on DVD... and the time to watch them.
61. Candy hearts

I think it's naptime, must go!
Susan

Who am I?

The sermon this week was about who we are - in Christ, of course. But, we also were invited to consider what we know about ourselves: our passions, talents, and interests.

Who am I? I honestly haven't had time to even remember that lately. I suppose that becoming a working Mom for the past 6 years I have neglected the slow thinking, the wondering, the inward gaze. With little to do over the next few months, perhaps I am being the gift of time to think, and to remember who I am.

One thing I know for sure: being slightly broken doesn't define me. I am NOT "Susan with a limp." I am Susan. I do limp, but that is not who I am. God uses the long journey of my injury (and since) to help shape my character, but not define it. I must resist the temptation to dwell in "what I can't do" and instead work toward my future.

Selfishly I pray that my character has been shaped enough by this, and that the surgery this week will be a success, and that a year from now I won't limp any more. Oh, I hope so. But, if it doesn't, then I will move forward and live as just Susan.

I am me. I am a child of God. I am a believer in Jesus Christ. I am impulsive and lazy and organized and some other things that I don't really know yet.

I have a limp, but it isn't who I am.

If you are looking for me over the next few months, I'll be in my living room. I would love to see you, or hear from you. I am not looking forward to the isolation of being home without mobility, and communication would make the time pass faster. Thanks so much for your prayer support, and for the practical support that is needed for our family.

I am blessed.

And, I'm not just saying that to sound all "Christian" either. Really, truly blessed. I forget about it. Then sometimes God has wakes me up to worry about HOW DIRE THINGS ACTUALLY ARE and then carefully and creatively solves my problem, much more beautifully than I could have solved it.

Case in point: as of this morning, the replacement teacher for my job changed her mind and declined the position, for some excellent reasons. Kudos to her for carefully considering and doing the right thing. But... that did leave 18 charming 7 year olds without a teacher as of Monday.

Panic? Sure, why not!

I can tell you, though, that the Father had everything all planned and perfected. By 2:30 pm, two teachers who are already familiar with the school - and with my students - had agreed to share the position. Truly, truly, I can't be happier. These women will love my kids and take care of them and teach them well. My kids will love them - in fact they already do. They just don't know it yet!

In the meantime, God provided so much for me to be thankful for... so let me add to my list of 1000 with all the GOOD in my life today:

28. Colleagues who came by my room at just the right time to hear my fear and worries and encourage me that right now, it's ok to not really be ok.
29. My caring friend and teaching partner Terri, who took my supervision to give me 20 minutes to catch up on all the stuff I have to catch up on.
30. Name #1 - who I am not yet at liberty to share.
31. Name #2 - ditto
32. An understanding and generous admin team that cares about my students and I, not just about shuffling paper and schedules.
33. It was Marcie's month to do the newsletter, so I don't have to worry about it. She did a great job, too.
34. Steve - answering his email in the middle of a busy day to tell me he loves me and thinks I'm amazing and that he was praying.
35. Warm sun through my south facing classroom.
36. A generous parent who donated a LOT of crafty items from the store she works at.
37. Vanilla coffee.
38. A friendly and detail-filled voice mail from the hospital with all the information I was wondering about for next week.
39. Watching kids realize that they can read music. All those balls and sticks suddenly resolve into something that makes sense and is comprehensible.
40. A student who has been struggling with self-control learns how rewarding it is to serve his classmates - and suddenly he is filled with joy and the desire to do well.
41. My beloved Kim is 22 years old, today. I could probably write a list of 1000 things to be thankful about, just about Kim.
42. These dumb dogs - seriously, they make me laugh the second I walk through the door!
43. A gift card, left from before Christmas, that we can use to take Kim out for dinner tonight to celebrate her birthday.


Oh, I'd better stop. Being thankful is calming - I like feeling the panic from earlier in the day slip away. I'm on a roller coaster, so I'll probably be panicking about something else tomorrow, but I'll hold on, and all will be well.

More to be thankful for already!

God is so faithful... there is so much around me to be grateful for.

20. Little kids skating: tongues out for concentration, arms outstretched for balance.
21. A gift of a serving of apple crisp from a parent, just to brighten my day.
22. Exam week for Benton. (Purely selfish - it means an extra 45 minutes of sleep for me!)
23. A surprise second bloom from the amaryllis on my classroom windowsill.
24. Clean floors, clean counters, clean bathroom. I love clean.
25. Outdoor recess.
26. Warm spring smells in the air this morning.
27. Blue tape. Yellow tape. Green tape. I love tape.

In which we survive last week, and discuss surviving the week to come.

Oh, man.

This past week has been so full.

First off, let me just say that I love my job. I really do look forward to going in to school, spending my day with my munchkins, and coming on home to my little world at home. It's a good life. BUT.... Calgary's normally mild(ish) climate dumped 7 straight days of bitter cold on us, which meant that my kiddos couldn't play outside.

Fun for the first day.

Fun for the second day, until midafternoon when we started to get a little tired of one another.

Bearable for the third day, until midafternoon when apparently the wheels fell off.

Stressful and draining for the fourth day.

A bit hysterical on the fifth day.

Normally I choose not to be a person who waits all week for Friday, and complains about being back to work on Monday, but I've gotta say that Friday afternoon looked really good. Thankfully the forecast looks better this week.

Tomorrow marks the beginning of my last week of work before going on medical leave. So much is yet to do. I want to leave things in excellent shape for my replacement so that the transition is easier on my kiddos. I've been pondering how difficult the whole process will be on them. They'll be fine, but it's not a journey I would choose for them. Or for me, for that matter.

Interviews for my replacement will be on Tuesday, and hopefully the new teacher can spend Thursday and Friday with us.

Lots to do at school, at home, at the gym... yikes. Got to get new crutches, fix my old brace, get a handicapped parking thingy, try to put some casseroles in the freezer...

Reading over this post, I am struck by how calm I sound about the surgery, and about leaving work. In reality, I feel myself catching my breath from time to time, thinking about what lies ahead. The last surgery and rehab were life changing. I'm not really sure I can handle the pain. I really don't look forward to crutches for months again. I dread the thought of slipping on the ice, on wet floors, on uneven ground. Morphine isn't as fun as it sounds. (Though apparently I am a barrel of laughs when I'm on it, just ask my friend Kerry.) I hate it that Steve will have to do everything for me, right down to helping me in and out of the shower and putting my socks on, let alone driving me everywhere and taking charge of the food and the house.

God is sufficient. God is sufficient.

Years ago I heard a speaker teach us that:

1. God Knows.

2. God Cares.

3. God Can.

4. God Will. (Or more likely, He already has.)

God KNOWS the future of my ability/disability. He knows my fearful moments and my concerns. He knows how this is all going to play out. He CARES about my future, and my heart, and my desire to be productive and able-bodied for years to come. God CAN fix it, He can protect me from further damage, from panic, from losing my control to the pain of the surgery and the rehab. God WILL... well, that's the part I don't really know yet.

God Will do what He knows is best. His love for me isn't constrained in any way. If I truly believe that, then how can I believe He will do anything less than the best for me?

I don't know what that looks like yet, but I will.

I have much to be grateful for, and I know I must list them to put my life into perspective:

9. A loving and present faith community.

10. Pedicures.

11. A full paycheque while I'm off. (I'm all about the practical.)

12. 18 good applicants for my principal to choose a replacement from.

13. Melting snow.

14. Yummy italian lunch, paid for by my inlaws.

15. Grilled cheese and tomato soup. Really, what would life be like if nobody had ever discovered that particular combination?

16. Steve. I know, that was kinda #1, too. That's ok.

17. My friend Margie who offered to drive me to physio as often as I need to go, and who even let me know her schedule so I can plan around her.

18. Hugs from Mackenzie.

19. Baby Juliana.

Life is sweet.

Susan

Preparation

Three Years.

This blog has been dormant for three years.

Two Weeks.

In two weeks I have a surgery that may - or may not - ensure I regain full mobility and return to my former "spry" self. I'll be on surgical leave for three months or so. For the past few weeks I've been toying with the idea of journalling while I'm off work. Since writing is always more fun when it's for an audience, I'd rather journal on a blog. And, to be efficient, why begin all over again when I can just dust off the old one?

1000.

Over Christmas, I read the book 1000 Gifts by Ann Voskamp. Her challenge: to change my perspective on life by opening my eyes to the gifts poured over me every day. I'd like to piggy back my disability leave onto my efforts to record 1000 gifts over the next while. I guess in my mind, rehabbing from yet another surgery is a good time to look for thankfulness in my life.

So, without further ado:

1. My very.patient.husband!

2. Canadian Health Care. Not perfect, but good.

3. Colleagues who care about me - and my students - and who pick up the slack for me with grace.

4. My students - who will miss me. It's nice to be missed.

5. Our furnace: a reliable source of warmth on a -33C day.

6. Prayer from a wonderful Godly woman at church last Sunday.

7. Book recommendations from friends. (Thank you, Karen.)

8. Soft bed. Clean sheets. Warm blankets. Rest.

Feeling blessed,

Susan

Desert Places

I was just reading over a note from a dear friend that talks about the "desert place" she is in. Funny, I was just thinking about my own desert places yesterday.

I remember learning that my identity is not bound up in what I do: for the Church, for my family, at my job. Rather, my identity is bound with who I am in Christ: his daughter, beloved and sanctified. Not because of who I am, but because of who He is.

I remember learning that Worship is not about me, but rather about Him. Worship looks different than I thought it did. Worship is sometimes about playing one more game of Monopoly instead of having some selfish time. Sometimes worship is about sitting in peace and prayer.

I remember learning that God's plan is good, but not always nice. Kinda like God Himself. "Nice" says everything will be, well, nice! "Good" says everything will be good. In that deep, satisfying way that only good can be.

I think desert times are highly overrated. I do think that sometimes we choose the desert because we are human and weak. But sometimes God leads us into those times and places of being completely spent where we have no choice but to lie down flat and wait.

God bless you all,
Susan