Till I'm Hurtin' No More

I've been diving deep.

It could be the sinus pressure that made me linger in bed. Or the cough that left me feeling like rocks churned in my chest. Or perhaps the amount of time I’ve abstained from Starbuck’s coffee.

Regardless, after Echinacea soup and a doctor’s visit, albuterol has me breathing better. Flonase has lessened the nasal pressure. And I’m seated in a Starbuck’s sipping a soy milk caramel macchiato.

It’s a new thing. A way to get out of the house.

The music and chatter may distract, but it’s worth a try. I may even learn to prefer the background noise to the screaming silence in my house.

I attended three days of Vacation Bible School last week. Dressed in crazy costumes, I registered children as they arrived. But then workers discovered mold in our church building Wednesday, and VBS was cancelled.

So Thursday morning I woke to my first summer's day with no agenda. Thoughts turned to my book, so late in the afternoon I strolled into my local Barnes and Noble and asked if they’d stock it. When the manager agreed, I felt like...

I woke Friday ready to build on the previous day’s success. Thus, when I walked into physical therapy, I didn’t balk when they pushed my limits—again. But they went too far.

It was strange. All they’d asked me to do was to place my right foot in front of my left on a foam pad and balance. But I couldn’t do it.

My left ankle flopped back and forth like a dying fish.

Still, the therapist asked me to try again on a harder foam surface. I didn’t want to, but I also didn’t want him to think I was disagreeable. So I tried again—to no avail.

Determined, he asked me to balance on the hard floor. It still didn’t work and I finally said, “I really can’t do this.”

I could tell what he couldn’t… the foot was wearing out.

And sure enough, when I went to walk, I was pigeon-toed and unable to move forward without great difficulty.

I could feel the tears build, but prattled on about my kids and my book and anything else happy I could drone on about to keep emotions at bay.

sweet memories like these:
a springtime lunch

the mountains in July '14

chick-fil-a just two weeks ago

As I drove away from therapy, however, I lost it. I had planned to go to the grocery store, but changed course. At Nick’s BBQ, I headed to the food counter and fell apart - again.

You see I’ve handled leg weakness for a long time. But there’s something about this pigeon-toed thing that challenges me to the core. It throws my balance, feels unattractive, and requires extra focus and resolve.

Kind waiters filled my order and carried it to the car. So I went home, ate too many gluten-filled cheese biscuits, and wept.

For now I’m waiting to hear my surgeon’s opinion on scheduling the left foot reconstruction. Part of me hopes it will happen soon so the healing can begin, while another part of me wants the foot to calm so I can wait.

In the meantime, if I walk slowly and purposefully and hold my foot up straight, I can disguise the issue.

And that will have to do for now as I wait for docs to call and schedulers to schedule and days to unfold.

So I've been diving deep and writing songs.

I planned on sharing the other one, but Lu's keyboard didn't have a sustain pedal and this song works much better without it.

So here's to fighting for life, believing for love, and trusting that one day I won't be hurtin' no more.

photo credit: Good Morning via photopin (license)