Friday, September 30, 2016

Blinded by the Light

Yesterday, after being kind of down all week, I had a couple of hours alone.
This NEVER happens.
I found myself actually returning to bed, burying my head in the covers and forming my own little pity party. As I laid there, I started thinking about all the ways that my life is...well...less than fun, right now. However, I noticed that each time I wanted to wallow and dwell on all the "bad" circumstances, and the separation I feel from everyone else, I kept finding my thoughts turned to all the many ways my family has been blessed, and all the people that had blessed us.
Try as I might, although I still felt down, I knew that I had no reason to feel this way and that I had fallen into a trap of feeling sorry for myself.  It's so easy to do.

Each of us have things in our life that we feel alone in.  I am sure of it.  Whether it is health, finances, jobs, relationships, children...we all have things that we wish were better.  It is easy to stew about those things which causes our mindset to change.  Once you start finding fault, or falling victim, (whatever the case may be), it is easy to start adding to the pile.  Or at least it is for me.

Yesterday I emailed Steven's nurse and updated her on the condition of his hips.  The appointment for his orthopedic doctor is on Tuesday, and we both know that surgery is inevitable.  I shared with the nurse that Steven's pain level has increased dramatically, probably in part to the tapering of the steroids (which probably helped to mask the inflammation.)  He is now taking pain pills to take the edge off and is using crutches inside the house.  Of course, in public, he will not use anything to assist him walking, therefore we are limited in what we do, or where we go.  Thankfully, because he knows how much he missed with the kids when we were in St. Louis, it is still a priority to go to all their ballgames, and he still hasn't missed one.  This is so important to the kids, and me.

I also shared that Steven's knees and shoulders had started to ache as well, and questioned if this could also be due to bone damage, all the while dreading her answer.  And...well, while we were on the subject, there was this issue of a sore throat that he had been having...
Head, shoulders, knees and hips...knees and hips.   (Sing with me now.)
Suddenly, because of my own doing, I couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel, despite the fact that I was basking in it.
I spent the time in St. Louis praying for the day when my husband was cancer free.  It is all I longed for, and what I prayed for. 
He is currently cancer free.
This past week I started losing sight of how far we had came and started only looking at how far we have yet to go.  I would like to say that my feelings were prompted by such heartbreak over Steven's pain...but that wouldn't be entirely true.  Although I hate seeing him hurt, it would be much more honest of me to admit that the theme at my pity party was probably celebrating poor, pitiful me.  Poor Kim, she has to do this.  Poor Kim, she has to do that.  Poor Kim, she wants to be able to do these things with her husband.   
Poor Kim...when will anyone ever take care of her? 
Oh yes.  It was a great party.  Aren't you sorry you weren't there?

Thankfully, as I stated, the party was crashed with reminders of blessings that have rained down like confetti, making this journey all the more bearable and colorful.  I knew that my mindset had to change.  It isn't "poor Kim" at all...  No, in fact, Kim is so very fortunate and she needed to realize it. 
And so, although not easily, I. Realized. It.  I got up, got moving, said a prayer of thankfulness, and carried on.
I decided to purposefully look upon all the good things in our lives.  How could I, of all people, fail to see how lucky Steven and I are?  If nothing else...we are home.  It is far too easy to look out into this world and find those who are struggling much more than I am.  Than Steven is.

Sadly, we are far from being the only people with trials.  In fact, it would be much harder to look out into the world and find someone without them.  Impossible, actually.  There is more than enough suffering to go around...  I hope to maintain this clarity, and I will strive to help carry someone else's burden or lighten someone else's load.  It is, in all actuality, the best way to make you put down your own.
Who knows, maybe I will even forget where I placed it.


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