I'm a Pigeon

It’s a sunny, winter day, and I sit on the couch with one of my favorite snuggly blankets. I’ve got on a big gray hoodies with a pair of exercise pants ready to take off for yoga in another couple of hours. My hair is still damp from the shower, my nails are all cut and I am trying to have that go-get-them attitude that will help get me through this day. I look the part of a “yogi” (not the bear) more now than when I am trying to bend and move my body in awkward forms. I did learn the “pigeon” on Monday and wonder what special moves await me. For a good laugh, picture me in a pose entitled pigeon. You will be giggling for a good day or two.

I heard from my doctor’s office a couple of hours ago that my surgery scheduled for tomorrow now must be postponed until next Thursday. A man was just admitted who has a large brain tumor and needs surgery pretty quickly. The receptionist who gave me this news was almost apologetic in tone and asked me if this was ok. Could you imagine me saying, “Yes, I mind!” to a situation like this? “No, that man has to wait his turn. I was here first!” This is the third date for this procedure and perhaps three will be a lucky number for me.

I’m somewhat out of sorts for this operation. (I can officially call this an operation and not just a procedure this time! That scares me on how the bill will look. I’m almost surprised we don’t have the bill yet. They are usually pretty speedy at that!) It’s hard to wait. I originally thought this could all be completed in December. My gift of patience is apparent on the outside but has deep fissures on the inside. Inserting a neurostimulator is an elective process in the hopes that my pain can be somewhat controlled. Each time I wonder if this new device is really a requirement for my life, the pain level shoots up and I barely hobble across the floor. My stay in the hospital is a good thing for then I have no other jobs pressing to get finished. The food is actually pretty good and I get full ownership of the TV remote. I can just lay there and contently watch others take care of me. This surgeon was the one who operated on Bob after his big fall three years ago, and I have the utmost respect for the man. So, what’s up? Why am I more emotional now? What is bothering me? Why is this so hard? It’s not like I have never had an operation. Glory be; I’m on a first name basis with most of the hospital employees. I don’t like my body as pain clamps onto my limbs, yet I’ve had this pain for so long that I am somewhat accustomed to it.

I gave a pretty detailed description of my current status in the first paragraph of this blog. After all, do you really care that I am wearing a hoodies and have finally washed my hair. I left out a key part. Tears are slowly streaming down my cheeks. I’ve created this special little place in my heart where I go when the pain is horrid. As silly as it sounds, it is a very safe place for me. I can hide from the world as I clutch my legs and curl in a ball – a big ball mind you – and hide within myself.

This neurostimulator will not get rid of my pain. This is another proclamation similar to my words after my stay up at Mayo. This is instead a way for me to help control the pain and keep the deep hurts an arm length away. I hope they provide me with three remotes for ours for the TV is always getting lost.

So, I’ll go on with my life with a goofy smile affixed my face. I thank you for all the prayers. They are definitely helping right now.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:

     -  Could God be teaching me a little patience?