Footprints in the Sand

        I was becoming moody.  Three months had passed since our collision.  Having decreased my narcotic dose, I was more lucid, which allowed me to remember more of my daily pain.  Misery was normal.  Moodiness came from lowering my narcotic consumption and frustration of not being able to accomplish what  I want to do each day. 

      I had never sat this much in my life.  My mind would not let me focus to read, I stared at the tv without hearing it.  I was exhausted from healing, I was bored, I couldn't drive, I couldn't leave my house on my own, I couldn't do much at all without help.  

     I was pissed about it. 

      Dependency is not my personality.  Greg sat with me and explained this is the third time I had gone through this phase of frustration.  Remembering this time only, I was stunned by his confession.  

     I did not go around the house screaming or throwing things, but my family could sense how irritable I was.  I did not want to talk, I did not want to be alone, but I did not want to be around anyone at the same time.   I just wanted to stand up! 

     Limbo, is where I was swinging right then.  We did not know if I would walk well or when.  We did not know if my ankles would hold me or how long.  We did not know how long the actual healing was going to take.  We did not know much, except that I was surviving. 

      Reminding myself of this often helped me work through my days.  I am grateful that I am alive.  I do not want to give up the life God granted.  Somehow I had to work through this and learn patience.  Please God, grant me the patience.  

     Greg and I spoke at length about how I could find peace with dependency until I could do things on my own.  I could see it was wearing on him.  He'd gotten upset only once, at least that's all that I can remember and I believe I am the one that pushed him.  

     Knowing that I do not know what I am saying most of the time requires great understanding from him.  He is my living angel.  He has patience, understanding, a thick skin and a love for me that carries us all.  I hold onto his strength so tightly that I hope that I do not drain it from him completely.  

     Thoughts of how well I was going to recover were constantly boring their way into my mind.  I desperately wanted Greg to understand my thoughts, feelings, all of these emotions swirling their way around inside of me.  He is unbelievably compassionate, but I see in his deep, brown eyes, a lack of full comprehension.  

     He's cannot fully understand because he experienced a different side of this tragedy.  It is not fair of me to get upset by this.  I felt I was at my lowest, saddest point in recovery. If it hurt this terribly to sit, it was going to be more excruciating to stand.  Maybe it would be better to stay in the wheelchair.....  Maybe it would be better to remove my right lower leg.....  Anything had to be better than what I was going through at that time. 

      Explaining to him that I felt like I was going through this part alone, he softly says that while we were in the hospital he read a phrase in the hospital gift shop and would like to recite it to me. 

      Holding my hands loosely in his, he looks tenderly at me, "Carey, you are asking me why you feel alone during your weakest moments and I think this is your answer.  The quote said,  

"Why, during my hardest times was there only one set of footprints in the sand?"  God answered, "You were not alone.  That is when I was carrying you, when you were not strong enough to carry yourself." 

  I stared, awestruck at him, lips parted, eyes wide with understanding.  I could not believe how true those words rang.  Greg's timing with that phrase was impeccable.  I could only sit there and allow that to sink in as my admiration for my husband grew.   

     He kneels on the floor beside my wheelchair and caresses my hand.  He says softly, sympathetically, "I can't fix this part for you Carey.  You cannot take the idea of being vulnerable and depending on others to take care of your needs, I can sense this."  

     "You feel guilty and it's causing a great deal of frustration.  Let us take care of you and make yourself a priority for once in your life.  I don't just love you Carey, I adore you." 

      I'm sobbing at his words, he is spot on.  "Carey, you haven't cried about what has happened, not once.  Just cry and let it all out," he begs.  I sobbed on his shoulder until I could sob no more.  

Enduring Pain: See it, Say it, Believe It!

     Pain has a way of tearing you down to your most vulnerable self.  Whether it be physical pain, mental or emotional pain.  When it hits, it usually hits hard.   Slowly slithering it's way into your body or mind and then slamming you to your very core.

     When my husband would arrive home and view a new inspirational quote on the wall, he could positively assume his wife was in need of extra motivation.  The first two years of recovery were a toss up between physical, mental and emotional pain as I experienced all three at once.  This last year though he could guess that I mostly suffered from a physical pain.  


     Although my pain is greatly decreased since those terrible days of the first year, I have pain from surgery and pain that will live with me til the end of my days.  One such day happened this past Tuesday.  I blame it on this winter weather. 

      Too cold, for too long, for too many days.

     My arthritis is in "end stage".  It cannot get any worse unless my bones just fall apart.  No hot whirlpool bath, ice packs or pleading would ease this deep-seated ache that bore it's way into my bones. 

     I reverted to a technique that I used frequently during those first two years.   A form of meditation, I would guess.  I would recite quotes over and over and over.  I have them everywhere.  On my walls, in my closet, in my drawers, on my phone.  Everywhere a reminder of how fortunate I am and that I will always endure and defeat what is challenging me.

     Literally speaking, I must see the quote to remind myself to concentrate.  Recite it in my head, again and again.  When the pain is at it's worse, that is just not enough.  I must say it.  I must say it out loud.  I must say it with conviction!  "I WILL BE OK!"  It doesn't work unless you strip everything away.  Give your whole heart, mind and soul into Believing It.  But sometimes and there have been times, that the pain encompasses me to the point that I can only whisper, " God grant me the strength to keep fighting."  And when the pain threatens to pull me into it's darkness, I let my tears fall, unashamed, because when we cannot speak, God observes our tears as prayers too.

     My point being is that all pain is pain.  All pain hurts.  All pain tears you down.  We must find our inspiration to fight through the challenges in our life from any source we can.  If you do not have support, you must inspire yourself.  

     I bare my soul not only to heal, but now I understand I need let others in pain 'See' that it can be accomplished.  Hear the words I 'Say' to be true and 'Believe' it because I am still here, standing proudly.