Rainy Days of Springtime

Our meteorological skills were on high today as rain flooded the Chicagoland area. You might have heard our bones screeching if you live within 572 miles of our home. Our movements resemble an old black and white movie whose frames flip in a staccato fashion. (Don’t you think that Bob resembles Charlie Chaplin?)

It’s times like this when I realize my label of disabled fits me. I sometimes wonder whether I am running from my problems by avoiding the work scene, then God reminds me of my foolishness. Since we have come home from our week in California, my maladies have exhibited their stronghold over my body. I’ve walked Einstein with more regularity since Bob now bears one of those huge black boots as a result of his surgery. My vertigo gait has led me to the close examination of neighbors’ lawns. The weeble is back. My tinnitus is singing along with me 24/7. Then there are the complications of this headache. It tries to convince me that time alone in a quiet, dark room is the only option available to me. It’s even harder than normal to concentrate on anything. Holding the sides of my head while crouched in darkness does not allow me to exactly blend into the crowd.

That label of “disabled” is a difficult one to accept. I’ve talked with others who cringe at this eight-letter word. The new neon sign flashing over my head declares that I am broken and not worthy. I’ve met others whose feeling of any self-worth completely disintegrates as they contemplate the complications of assuming this label. It’s not an easy category to accept especially since you have little control over the need for it.

I know, or at least pray, that in a few days some of my new medications will tame the symptoms of The Mighty Three. Until then, I watch the rain nourish the ground and feel the pain starve my body. Living with chronic pain brings unique opportunities and experiences. Even so, I am blessed with having a husband, daughter and even dog be part of my support system. I can’t forget the medicinal value of those cute little grandsons either. With them, I know that life may not always be fun, but it surely is good!

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:
          - I have a wonderful system that helps on those rainy days of springtime.