Those of us of a certain age undoubtedly remember the cartoonist Charles Schultz and his beloved though bedraggled cartoon character Charlie Brown. Try as poor Charlie might, he was always thwarted by fellow character Lucy, every time he tried to kick the football, landing flat on his backside always exclaiming...."Aaugh!" Still though, it never stopped him from getting up, dusting himself off and trying again. Hope always sprang eternal with old Charles and so far in this new year, 2024, I feel as if I have stepped into his ever hopeful shoes, as I lie here for the umpteenth time flat on my derriere.
To say that this year has given me a run for my money would be an understatement. I feel as if God has said, "Now we are really going to see what you are made of." Honestly, He really didn't need to test me. He could have just asked and I would have simply told Him. Mush! I am made of mush! There is no consistency, no flavor, no nothing. Apparently though, He wants me to dig a little deeper. Aaugh!
Since the stroke of midnight that brought in this new year, I have seen the inside of not one but two different ER's, two different hospitals, learned my son had osteomyelitis, learned he might possibly lose his leg, have gone through three surgeries with David, had to watch him be in extreme pain, learn all about wound vacs, sweat through the placement of a PICC line, learn to give IV meds through a PICC line, become a 24/7 nurse, find myself in pain that I had not experienced since childbirth, find out that I had a perforated colon and that I was damn near septic, do my own stint in the hospital, and then as a follow up act, come down with a viral infection that dropped me to my knees. Every time I was up, I landed squarely right back on my backside. Aaugh!!!!!!!
There is much that I contemplated about writing today. Aside from the joy ride of the last paragraph, there are other more personal and even emotionally painful things that have gone on that have left me emotionally raw and in moments, devastated. A part of me wanted to just lay all of that out right here and right now, but honestly, the story is still unfolding, and more over, I don't even have the words to process or make sense of any of it currently. Let's just leave it at, I am seeing people through different eyes, and I am standing back, to allow God to work so I don't try and step on his toes. Aaugh!!!
In the midst of all of this, I have asked God to let me know what He wanted from me. Apparently there are lessons aplenty.
Sometimes, I have found over the years, that with David, I forget he is special needs, i.e. more fragile than the average human. When he is doing well (which is more often than not) life is normal. I don't spend a lot of time stressing or worrying about him. However, when his fragility rears its ugly head, it is never in a small inconspicuous way. No, it is always big, grandiose, and very unexpected. This abscess, resulting in the infection, which resulted in his osteomyelitis is one of these fragile moments. Of course the whole thing caught me off guard and gave me stress and worry that will remain with me for awhile to come, but in the midst of it all, some very important lessons were brought home too.
The first and most important lesson in all of this was how much David means to me (and to so many others.) He is not your average kid and because of this, no matter how good my efforts have been in the past to keep him well, healthy and safe, now that he is an adult and his body and system are changing, I have to double down on those efforts, pay closer attention and educate myself whenever possible.
The second lesson I have learned is the power of David. Oh, I have seen it a million times but in the last couple of months it has been awe inspiring. David carries a power of joy within him. Even in his worst moments, there is a light that touches others. When he was in the hospital this time, because he is now considered medically an adult, he was on adult floors. The first floor he was on was the cancer floor until they needed the bed, and then he was transferred to the Neuro/Trauma floor. As you can imagine, neither floor exuded much joy.....until David showed up. On both floors, the nurses loved him and as he felt better, his joyous sounds and laughter seemed to penetrate through any darkness that existed. Even nurses who didn't have him on their shift would come in to visit and get a shot of the joy David oh so willingly shared. In fact, the nurse supervisor of the Neuro/Trauma unit said that if he ever had to be hospitalized again, to ask that he be admitted to their unit. They needed the joy.
This same joy has touched his home healthcare nurses that come out to see him weekly, as well as the staff at the infectious medicine doctors office and the wound care clinic. As he goes through the doors clapping and laughing on arrival, the front desk people are always happy to see him and of course know him by name. Amidst the severely sick and wounded, David is a breath of fresh air that staff and other patients as well seem to enjoy and appreciate.
It occurred to me the other day, that if each of us just gave half the effort to love life the way David does, and to share that love the way he does, this world would be such an amazing place. As it is though, it is David's super power and nobody does it better than him. However, maybe this episode was God's reminder to me, not just to appreciate the amazingness that is David, but to also take a page from his book and up my game where it comes to joy, love and the sharing of both.
Lesson understood.
Possibly one of the biggest lessons I have learned throughout all of this is about me. I have spent the better part of the last 20+ years feeling that it was my responsibility to take care of everyone and everything, solicited or unsolicited. After awhile, I got so good at it (is good really the word?) that kids, adults, and even the dogs just let me do it. At some point in time, everyone in my world quit fully taking care of themselves, and allowed me to take over. Sadly though, with great power comes great consequences. The obvious enabling aside, I have worn my mind and body down to dust and are those I "helped" really any the better for it?
When you are so busy planning, directing, and implementing everyone elses life and needs, there is little time left for things like eating right, sleeping, giving myself time to heal when I'm sick, or even getting to know who I am at this stage of my life. Well, hold on to your hats because I got to come face to face with who I currently am and she ain't pretty. I am a woman who has a hole in her colon and needs a colonoscopy (don't think that doesn't terrify me in light of my brother) and has the back of a 90 year old. I have learned that just because I paint an "S" on my chest, it doesn't mean that I am superwoman, in fact I have no idea who I am. I also realized that I no longer want to be in control of anything but myself, and maybe when necessary David. It also occurred to me that anything my adult children are going to learn from me, chances are, they already have (bad habits/traits and all), it is time they go out and start implementing them and stop allowing me to guide their course. I am done accepting the credit for the fails. It's time they put on their big kid pants and find their own way.
I also became very aware that to want, need or expect help from others in most situations is a master class in futility. Everyone has their own lives and regardless of where you "think" you fit in others lives, the cold hard truth is that you are born alone, you die alone, and everything in between you usually find yourself doing alone. This is not a complaint, but more a realization that I seem to have to relearn over and over throughout my life. The fact is, most times, I am good alone. I am used to alone and I am pretty darn proficient at alone. It is only when others start acting as if I need help or tell me they are going to help (and in a moment of weakness I buy into it), that I start getting the need/want thing twisted.
This is not to say that I don't have people around who care about us and who aren't willing to help if the need is crucial, but the bottom line is, my life, my needs, etc, don't trump everyone elses needs, families and lives. No one should drop everything they have going on at the drop of a hat for me. I think the sore point though comes when at times, the ugly frustration pops up when I realize that with those closest to me, I often give till I have nothing left to give, but when my need is there, they have nothing to give straight out of the shute. That is when I have to slap myself into perspective and remember that what I gave, I gave freely without strings or conditions. Just because I gave doesn't mean that I am owed anything from anyone. I made my choice to give and they make their choices too. That is simply life and life ain't always fair. Aaugh!
My body is in fact very much in need of rest and healing right now. My mind is anxious and I need some peace just all the way around. This point was driven home to me this last weekend.
Last summer, I bought tickets to go see the musical Wicked in OKC for Willow and Zach and I. It was a combined birthday gift for both Willow and Zach. This last Saturday was the date. Of course the Monday before I ended up in the hospital with the perforated diverticulitis. I was in until Wednesday and sweated every second wondering if I would make it to OKC. By Wednesday when I was released, in true ME fashion, I came home gangbusters, getting out of the hospital and immediately cleaning and cooking before my overnight bag even hit the floor. I spent the next two days cleaning and assuming that I was all healed, not once thinking about what my body might be going through trying to recover from such an infection. On top of this, my grandson was not sick sick, but obviously he wasn't 100% and he was sticking to me like glue, sitting in my lap every chance he got. I think for this particular virus, he was patient zero.
Saturday morning, the big day, I woke up coughing. FOR REAL????? Nope. I had too much invested in this day. I was going even if it killed me. By the time we got home, I thought it might. I will never regret the trip, the musical or the time I got to spend with two people I lover dearly, but by the time the play was over and we were headed to the car, I nearly cried thinking about the two and a half hour car ride home. My head hurt, my body hurt, I was coughing so hard it caused me pain, and I literally wanted to crawl into the fetal position and pass out. I ended up back in the ER with a 103 temp. It was only then that I realized I really was an idiot and that I might have caused more damage to myself by pushing so hard to do it all. Luckily (if you can call it luck), I had done no extra diverticulitis damage. Instead I had dehydrated myself to dust, and I had a viral infection that my already weak body was having a heck of a time fighting off. I could literally feel both the doctor and the nurses eyes roll to the backs of their heads as I told them of the stupidity of my week. Aaugh!!!!
So here I sit. I am still fighting this nasty viral beast, but I think I am getting better. I do find myself concerned about the upcoming colonoscopy and its results, but for the moment my colon has to heal enough to even do the colonoscopy, so it is just a waiting game. All prayers appreciated.
David is healing so well that the wound vac is off and we are in the last stages of his wounds healing. Soon it will just be ticking the clock down until he is off his antibiotics and then this particular chapter of 2024 will be closed. Thank God.
As for the rest, I think sometimes God whispers to us what He wants us to know and the direction He wants us to go, but when we (ME) are too busy jumping in and out of our own lane, trying to control the whole world and everyone in it, and listening to our own wants and desires, I simply don't hear Him. That is when He hits me upside the head LOUDLY, and I have no choice but to listen.....and learn. I think that is what these last two months have been about.
Yes God! I am listening. Aaugh!
Until next time.......
