I feel like I’ve lost the past month. It’s been hell. I really don’t know how else to describe it.I became ill quite suddenly and severely; I didn’t understand what was happening to me. I was so ill that for 2 days at the beginning I actually thought I was perhaps dying. I found that I was not afraid of death, but rather was worried about unfinished business – like destroying those words I talked about more than a month ago that I know would be hurtful to family if they should ever read them. (Yes, that’s one of the first things I’ll be taking care of as soon as I’m feeling emotionally stronger.) I am grateful to the kind doctor who took the time to convince me that I would not die from this illness.
I have been quite conscious in the past 6 or so months of the fact that I am so often not “present” at any given moment. I found that when one is so ill there IS nothing but the present moment. Each moment I survived was a success. There is so much pain involved in healing. I lost count of the IV’s that were inserted into my tender veins. Some of the medications burned my veins, so the IV’s had to be moved frequently. Painful procedures, painful breathing, painful waiting when I’d push my call button when staff were too busy to answer. What a paradox: Pain is necessary for healing to take place: Things will get worse before they get better.
I was so fuzzy headed from the fevers that I think I only half knew what was going on most of the time I was in hospital and the first week back home. At times I became very aware that I was at the mercy of my caretakers. I did not like feeling so helpless. I remember uttering a small prayer, “Just take care of me Jesus”; there was nothing else to do but trust.
At this point I am frustrated with being sick and having such a long recovery. Because an abscess developed on my lung I have to take antibiotics for 8 weeks, at least. I won’t even think about returning to work until mid-January. I’m still fighting infection and by body feels it. I’m tired out after doing just a small thing and find that I can drop off to sleep in a chair even with activity going on around me. I’m weak and my stomach hurts from the medicine. BUT, I’m here. I’m loved by God and trust that he has a plan for me, even in this. I know I must rest in that knowledge and take each day as it comes with whatever gifts it bestows.
