After taking a sleeping pill and a Vicodin, I am wide awake; maybe they counter-acted each other but none the less I cannot sleep. I have many events that stand to be corrected and in my present physical state, I feel myself lacking in the energy to correct it.
I have completed every step needed to begin the courses of college again but have yet to register for a class. I have decided to take 2 classes this fall and have to make my way to the college to register for them. My plan was to do that Friday morning when this attack, or should we say the devil, reared it's ugly head. Sometimes I think there is always something trying to prevent me from pursuing this dream of mine. Tomorrow I shall attempt to get out to do this and have a little bit of sunshine on my face. Classes begin on Monday and this week is late registration.
I went through a training for 4 weeks to become a CASA volunteer. CASA stands for Court Appointed Special Advocate, and I have accepted my first case. That too will be on my list of things to do while I am out tomorrow to prepare myself to return to work and the daily activities of life. It has not even been 72 hours since I had surgery but it feels like it has been weeks, the hours tick by so slowly and although I look for things to occupy my time, boredom creeps in and steals an hour of wasteful slumber.
There are some very funny things that happen when you have surgery or are under the effects of lasing general anesthetic. The dreams that I have had and the dreams that still come are that of which you don't repeat for fear of being locked inside a soft and cushy room with all but one tiny window. They make no sense and run together things that don't belong together. While I was under the effects of a strong IV pain medication, I indicated that our youth minister was in the hallway delivering pizzas. When my husband questioned me; speaking to him as if HE were the crazy one, I said "what, you don't see him?" I know that this person had been up there to check on me right before they gave me the IV injection, but it is funny how our mind associates things and random thoughts enter in. After my surgery, when my husband came in, I remember nothing of him being there. I remember a bright green shirt and khakis cargo shorts. I don't remember a head attached to the shirt but I knew who it was. I knew my mom and dad were there, but not because I remember seeing them. I remember a cup, straw and pen in a hand and I knew it was her. It is funny how things work in the mind. I believe I have repeatedly questioned my husband about what was said by doctors and people there and also what I said.
I know I am so bad about listening to my body and acting on its signals. I will be that person that has the heart attack and dies because she didn't pay attention to the signs. I know the signs, but with aches and pains, just dismiss them for something minimal. For two weeks I laid in pain, not responding to the pain that my body was projecting. It is very easy for me to blame me, knowing I did something wrong to cause this pain. The funny thing is my husband commented, that I do everything I am supposed to do; I took all my vitamins and made sure my body was in the best possible condition before surgery. I follow doctors orders (except to rest) to the letter and make sure I do what I need to do but I still have problems. Complications are not any fun and I try to avoid them by following the rules. I don't play games with my health but I also fear people thinking I am a hypochondriac. I pride myself on working to earn my living and doing what is right as much as humanly possible. I believe it is because when you hear how people talk about those they believe are hypochondriacs, it is not a description that you would like.
I put too much emphasis on caring about what others think of me. For many people, I truly respect and appreciate them and I do care but for others that are just mere acquaintances, why does it matter? It really doesn't or shouldn't and my focus is on separating those two groups. I care what they think because they matter to me?! My whole life has been a trial in that I wait in judgement of what others think or how others feel. For 42 years I have quietly listened to others thoughts and opinions and rarely have I said anything for fear of them thinking poorly of me. My opinions aren't wrong or screwed up, my opinions are moral and godly and it saddens me when the minority are making up the majority because they can speak up loud and clear. What is right is right and what is wrong is wrong. There is no middle ground.
Does that mean that as long as you do what is right everything will go right for you? No, on the contrary, the harder you work to live right, the harder Satan has to work to sway you and the harder things are. OK, so life is going to be hard? Keep on bringing it....
Blessings still abound amidst the chaos of Satan fighting me. I never could have imagined my life today when I was a child. As a child I never saw myself as a wife or mother. I never 'imagined' my babies were my babies, or my Ken doll was my husband, I just fell into it, or should I say tripped into it. There were two options lined out for me; both were of marriage; one was of like-faith and love would develop and one was of separate faith but true love. I chose the road of true love and it did turn out for the best, I believe. Two wonderful boys later and still deeply in love, I think my choice was clear. I believe that things can make us who we are and who we are can make us believe.
As I forge forward praying that this day will bring healing to my body and peace for my soul, I ask the Lord to take my hand, lead me on, and help me stand. For I know I cannot do this without Him or the Christians that He has placed in my life to guide me and support me.
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