Yesterday. September 11, 2015
The message of, "YOU SUCK!" was like a broken cow bell clanging against my very soul.
But fifteen minutes ago my oldest sent me a simplistic yet powerful piece of encouragement. It reminded me that so many are of this world.
The devil uses those to bring us down. Eat us alive.
John 10:10 NKJV
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| This beautiful and empathetic creature soothes me. |
I have either been seizing with upset or whimpering easily since 10:30 am this morning. My mind has decided that today was a day only for bed. There was no sight of getting out of it's safety any time soon. Yes, same debilitating pain. That story is a bore. Today was, "a bed day," in order to feel sorry for myself.
Ellee's big appointment was this morning. It would reveal a long awaited result hopefully found on the Angiogram and MRI of her non-properly-functioning hips. It would also lay out the plan for her slow recovery.
OR so we thought.
Instead, I personally, was virtually beat up by what this world calls a man. I went home black and blue and telling myself that it is, "Absolutely bazzare that a mom would talk so much for her daughter." I took to heart, "How selfish I am because I make it about me and don't focus on my daughters pain." And just as a bonus to put me deeper in the well, "I am crazy and that's why doctors don't help me."
Let me tell you my new
revised version.
Now that my head is back on straight, I have inhuman strength
to crush those lies.
And ALL glory goes to God.
My daughter and I, crutches and wheelchairs piled in the back of the van, drove 30 minutes outside of Apex to get to her doctor appointment early this morning. We cracked pathetic jokes and took snap chats of goofy stuff. That's one way our family copes. A good while ago, we decided that we can laugh or cry. We chose to laugh. And we do it often. We were all anxious to learn of what the near future had in store for our Elleebelly. We arrived to a dilapidated building, a huge sign out front in the yard sporting the name of the practice. I pulled into the handicapped space and saw a huge sign in the window that said EYE DOCTOR. Being a bit confused, probably emotional too, (I was awake since 3am taking the usual walk around the house to reduce pain), I thought to myself, maybe the entrance is around the other side. So I drove around to the other side to find, duh, the back of the building. So I drove back to where I originally was. I parked and started loading us out. Envision the scene for a moment: I am pushing my daughters wheelchair, while using one crutch, purse and backpack hanging on the handles (for my hands are also failing me). I suppose...I might have looked like a crazy lady. But see, this is our scene. We are used to it.
And by golly, we have chosen to do it to the glory of the Lord!
I then pry open the heavy door and prop my daughters chair against it in order to hold it open. Behold! There is the sign! Sporting aproximately 64 point Helvetica letters in bold. This was the right place! Before pushing with all my dilapidated strength over the floor humps, I had to get the closely positioned next door, open. I then swanaggled the chair through. 9:00 AM and I am exhausted already. This is life. This is our life.
But I am praising God that we are both still sporting a good mood.
I settle my pride and joy next to all the elderly people and go check in. I laughing say, "Does anyone else ever miss the sign for this practice!??" The office lady stopped her story with the other gaggle of ladies and said, "HUH!!!?" I told her I couldn't locate the sign. I put on my very happy face. She said boldly with what I perceived as an attitude, "There's a huge sign out front!" I said Oh yeah! That got me off the road! But I got confused when I got to the building." She responded sassily, I'm sure of it this time. "There is a sign once you open the door!" And... I kid you not, she rolled her eyes and chuckled with the other girls. I started to explain that when you are handicapped it takes so much energy to get out of a car just to find a sign, then decide whether to get your handicapped child out of the car. I decided it wasn't worth it. I do my best to NOT let the world get me down. I could just open my bag of grief anytime I wanted for that.
Thus was the beginning of our Cirque du Soleil-Like-Event.
We waited patiently. Daddy lovingly teasing our girl. He's good like that. We joked of course. Cause that's what we do.
He came in. The specialist handed my husband and I a sheet of paper and said there is the report. He sat there. So, like obedient students, we got quiet and read. Half way through I said, "Are you gonna explain this because I don't know doctor speak?" He looked at me like I was a 36 legged, purple-polka-dotted sea monster and replied, "What don't you get?" Sorry, but this report had words like; multiplanar, osseous, coronal and chondral. Huh???? I understood hip and bilateral. Anyway, didn't he go to school for this stuff? Wait, aren't we paying him to explain.....? What if I told him that the visual of her hips looked as if Wassilyevich Kandinski had carefully juxtaposed scintillating hues in order to produce an abstract master piece The shapes posed as subordinate planes therefore muting the dominate structure making the depth somewhat asymmetrical. It resulted in an Impressionist Period-like visual from the 1890's?
Who would need to get out their pocket dictionary now?!
This is when my britches got bundled.
By the grace of God, I was I able to suck my thoughts back so that they did not project violently from my large mouth.
More talk. Not worth repeating. Nearing the end, I said to him, "You know, I have a shoulder issue and I'd like to come see you for it, but I can't tell if we get along or not." IGNORANT ME. It's then that I learned, in fact, that we DO NOT get along.
He pounced.
"Since I asked, he said, on and on he went. And on...and on and on.....
My sassy self wanted to let him know that of all my ailments, my hearing was just fine. "He and his PA had never, after seeing thousands and thousands of patients, ever-never seen a MOTHER speak so much for her child!" I asked carefully, "Even when the child is on pain medication equal to Heroin and in level 8 out of 10 pain?" I continued, "Even when the mother has the same rotten condition and didn't want her daughter to go through the same rotten path of disbelief and rude doctors?"
He was ready for battle. I, the mere human, dared to challenge him.
"She WAS NOT ON PAIN MEDS WHEN YOU CAME IN, BECAUSE I PRESCRIBED THEM TO YOU,"he firmly stated. ("SO, THERE!" Nany-Nany-BOO-BOO.) Then I replied, "YES, SHE WAS ON PAIN MEDS, the hospital, in fact the night before, gave them to her before we even met you." "OK... he tried again, well SHE IS 20 YEARS old! She is an adult! She should speak for herself!"
That's when my highly intelligent child said. "Excuse me, I'm 17 years old." As calm and firm as she could. Praise God for wise her timing.
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| YEP, as a home school mom who Loves the Lord, things are gonna look different to the world.
It pays off to raise sharp,
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God-fearing kids.
Train up a child in the way he should go,And when he is old he will not depart from it.
Proverbs 22:6 NKJV
Believe this one or not, he then tried this next stunt..."Well, she's in college!"
Side fact and random information: She's been in college for 4 weeks as a freshman. However she has to stay home with us due to this new health situation. And by the way, with the pain and on narcotics not only is she keeping up with her work, but she is advocating for other handicapped people and making a difference on the campus.
This is when I decided that I was talking with someone that resembled a 5 year old child who didn't get more Teddy Grahams than his playmate.
I stopped responding.
He, however, wasn't done. He added, "That's why doctors won't help you! Whether YOU or I are crazy, you should focus on your child who is pain rather than yourself." Low blow. Now I'm crazy and a bad mom. That's when he got me. He was no longer my daughters doctor but the devil himself. A huge cotton ball the size of a watermelon formed in my throat. He hit me where it hurt...my lifelong goal, to take good care of my children. I started losing my voice. I continued to break down like a weak baby bird. I was done. He hit me where it hurt. I composed myself the best I could. I considered throwing my crutch at him but thought better. With welled up tears, I grabbed my crazy patterned crutch, dragged my crazy patterned-panted self, with my nose pierced, tattooed, delinquent being.....and walked out the door.
I just proved him right.
WAIT, don't stop reading here.
Here's the turnaround.
This doctor has rocket scientist intelligence. He has well-spoken ability. He has thousands of surgeries under his belt. He has fellow doctors in his seclusive club. He might have other collections stored up.
But I have the Lord.
I got home. I crashed into my safe bed and made a choice to feel sorry for myself for part of the day. An old familiar pattern. Before I talked to anyone or did anything, however, I did make one good decision. I knew I needed sleep. Good decisions can not be made off of no sleep.
So I slept.
When I woke up, this had been texted to me from my oldest daughter....
As God is always faithful and has perfect timing , He always provides what I need and when I need it.
No longer a surprise to me. So once again I dragged my sorry butt out of bed. For without the Lord, I am nothing. The evil one would NOT win this one. I completed some tasks. Dealt with some other issues.
Starting to feel better, I realized instantly that this doctor, this person who the world considered a real man, was of the world.
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If only people showed grace, mercy and LOVE like this gang! Be still my heart.
What he needed is what we all need, the Loving peace and comfort of knowing
Jesus Christ and having a relationship with Him.
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| If I provoke people to see that I am different then I welcome them to learn why!
If it requires being called CRAZY to be full of joy for the Lord even when my child and my family is going through tough times, then yes!
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I'll will accept the label CRAZY.
I will however give God
all the glory!!
If it's CRAZY to act silly to cheer us all up in the valley then I'll accept CRAZY. When I am depleted beyond depleted from staying up all hours in the night for weeks (for decades) to make sure that my child has her pain medications or to be in the Word.
It matters not whether my kid is 5 years old, 17 years old or 65 years old. I plan on being there for each of my children until the day I am blessed enough to enter heaven.
To end my viciously never-ending day, this is to my daughters shoulder specialist who is roughly the 35th doctor who has tried to belittle me in order to pump himself up...
I forgive you.
I will pray for you.
Night night.
For joy comes in the morning.
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| As God is often fun with His blessings, I was blessed with a new friend this morning named Joy!! |
Weeping may endure for a night,
But joy comes in the morning.
Psalm 30:5 NKJV
Jo Words:
Swanaggled: An effort successful or not at figuring something complicated or near impossible out by thinking outside the box.
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