Everyday I'm reminded how blessed I am regardless the chaos, noise or discomfort I experience during the day. My journey of discomfort began in November. When I had just been given clearance to do the thing I love so much to do and which keeps me grounded, I walked into a surgery yet again leaving me stuck in the reclining chair and at the mercy of many others.
It feels like forever ago I had four drains stitched to my sides leaving me with very
few options for clothing and comfort.
My Mom and I ventured out weeks after surgery and ended up at Cheeks to try on clothes and feel somewhat normal. Nothing about having a drain baby makes you feel normal especially when you look four months preggers. Praise God I can laugh and not cry every time hard faces me.
This will go down as a stellar Mother/Daughter date.
It feels like forever ago someone had to bathe me and pour my coffee for me. I still can't run (big, long weary sigh) but I know I can. I can't lift weights but I know my body is strong.
After weekly appointments at the University of Washington Medical center post surgery, things came to a screeching halt. The reconstructive surgery had been scheduled for April sixth giving my body one last final time to heal before the summer fun began and a fall race training schedule would need to resume.
...Enter Covid-19...
I've later learned that many things came to a halt. My surgeon explained that in a matter of a day, her three surgeries went from normal waiting room procedures to two family members only and by the third surgery no one allowed in the waiting room... all in one day. She also shared how patients, recently diagnosed with breast cancer, were told to push pause on upcoming surgeries to remove cancer and to take extra chemotherapy until operating rooms opened up once again.
My heart sunk.
I immediately thought back to when my sister was diagnosed and the fear surrounding something terminal growing in her body. Removing the cancer could not have happened any quicker. The fear knowing you have a detonated bomb ticking in your body is scary enough yet alone told to sit and be calm.
For all the discomfort I experience with iron clad expanders that, as close to explaining, feels like a too small, too tight, broken down underwire bra, I can live a few more months for these terrified patients to have surgery first. (they're not really iron.)
Yes, the new surgery date throws off my well-thought out plans but given today's chaos, it could be worse.
Our kids are healthy.
Our home is safe.
Our jobs secure.
Our faith is solid.
Our marriage thriving.
Our gas tank is full.
Our support system remains present.
We still have our laughter.
We still have the church.
We still have our health.
We will still have fun this summer.
In all my time now at home, I've been able to purge many things from my computer creating additional space and storage. Having both preventive surgeries has cleared mind space where fear once lived. The computer was desperately in need of the same thing. One of the tasks has been to go through all the thousands of pictures I struggle to delete. In doing so, I ran across this picture of Tim and I from 2014 that, not only is hilariously fitting, but pretty much sums things up as of late.
Our hands are full; our bellies full of laughter.
It may feel like our countries situation is strapping many of us down with unexpected loss and freedom. The ability to worship together, visit with friends and shop at our favorite local stores halted.
But God.
God can not be strapped down, confined to a box or told He has boundaries. He is bigger than all our fears, doubts and delays in preventive surgeries. God has purpose in our waiting.
It does feel like forever ago when I last ran, but I know my time to run will be coming soon. Until then, I'll keep purging the photos, organizing my inbox and give thanks for all the things
God has blessed our family with including being drain free.
What are you thankful for today?
{ Having fun; making memories. }
{ I will burn this pillow when all said and done. }
{ No drains and finally free. }
{ Post-op covid style. }