I wish I could've kept you updated but,
I stepped away from blogging and facebook for a while because of the depth of my pain.
Sometimes pain is too deep to describe and it is better to silently weep before God, alone.
There are certain kinds of agony and pain that only He can console and understand.
For 5 years I've dealt with headaches and extreme exhaustion.
We were already weary from pain driving it's claws into us day after day. Then we found out the little tumor in my head (that was positioned in such a way that it was NOT affecting my chronic headaches or exhaustion) would have to be removed because it was growing.
(the tumor is the white "heart" on the left side of picture)
So, just one year ago I had a craniotomy to remove the tumor.Recovering from surgery is hard enough but since my body was already hurting and weak healing has taken longer.
I never imagined that life could be so hellish.
I never anticipated that for agonizing months to follow I would deal with:
deep pain from the paralyzing of my facial muscles and excruciating eye pain
inability to sleep flat, or sleep at all because of the very tender incision
mental slowness that limited my communication affecting my marriage and relationship with my kids
emotional pain from loneliness and not being able to communicate or process what I was feeling
I'm about 90% healed from the craniotomy.
I still have constant headaches. I'm still extremely exhausted.
Most anyone who sees or interacts with me would have no idea that I am still in pain, because it's all "under the surface".
The Bel's Palsy, that paralyzed my facial muscles, has mostly healed except that the underlying facial muscles are still often stiff and occasionally twitch uncontrollably. Most of the nerves on my scalp have connected back but there are still some parts that are overly tender or have no feeling at all. I think my taste buds are still affected too.
Mentally I'm back on track, but still not fully back up to speed. I am forgetful and still can't concentrate as well as I used to. For the most part no one can tell, only those who deal with me daily get the frustration of communication (my poor family).
Boy, has my compassion grown for the chronically hurting. There is such a hopelessness that develops when weary day after weary day goes by.
Most of the time I just deal with the pain and move on. I've learned that pain is a part of life, I rest when my body needs to rest, appreciating the little things, I try not to push myself to do too much (or feel guilty that I can't do what I wish I could do), I'm thankful for the good days and drink vodka on the bad days. :)
Relationally, wounds are still in the healing process, I must confess that even some scars have developed.
Yes,
We are devoted to each other,
committed, sacrificially in love, persevering, forgiving,
But along with that has been continual tears, tension and pain. Big doses of that can drive one too near the banks of insanity.
Healing takes long-suffering love.
The other day I was reading back over the surgeon's notes, taken after the craniotomy. Memories of that day, that first week, and the past months and months pounded me. I could not hold back the tears.
The tears flowed in memory of the horrendous pain and grieving of those months, and the many ways it has negatively affected my husband and children.
The storm has not passed.
In fact, the storm was already raining down on us, then I had this surgery and the storm became a hurricane.
Now, the hurricane has passed, but the storm remains.
Some days I feel God's strength and am ready to dance, even in the rain.
Other days I am weak and am like a zombie wondering how much longer I have to plod through life like this.
So often I have wished I could be like those great, strong people we hear about who, even though they are walking through tragedy, they are still able to help others and they exemplify great courage and strength.
That is not me.
I am weak.
I am hopeless.
I am hurting.
If there is any strength on any given day, if there is any smile at any minute it is only because I have the hope of heaven. Christ Has died for me, saving me from my prison of sin and death. On those days when I am sitting in a corner, sure that I have lost my mind, I hold onto the peace that God holds me and that He will take care of my family in the ways that I cannot.
Even when I feel imprisoned from my pain I know that I am free.
Free to love, those small ways do count.
Free to give, those small gestures can mean a lot.
Free to enjoy life, there is much to be thankful for.
When was the last time you stood in the warm sun, eyes closed, just thankful to be able to stand in the sun?