In Retrospect
After a couple of weeks of recovery and multiple visits to the Physical Therapist, I asked my daughters and my husband to write their feelings about the experiences they had as first-hand
observers of my illness.
Kim, my oldest, wrote, "Mom was in so much pain; she didn't look so good. My first reaction was, 'Oh, I can't stand to see my mother in so much pain, what can be done?'"
"Mom was in a lot of pain and wasn't talking a whole lot," said Debi. "She wanted to be left alone."
JerriAnne said, "When I looked into her eyes lying in that hospital bed and saw the great pain and confusion, my heart hurt deeply. I wanted to take all that pain and confusion away for her."
My youngest daughter, Heather, has had a very difficult time processing her feelings, and she has not sent me her list of feelings yet. But her silence speaks volumes. I know in my heart that she was deeply affected by this experience but just can't bring herself to talk about it.
My husband's words touched me. He wrote, "We were more than concerned--we were stoically squelching our fears to appear 'strong', but inside, worry, fear and prayer were all bubbling up in a confused or rampant admixture of...HOPE!'"
Physical pain is subjective in nature and can only be truly felt by the person who is suffering it. However, there is another kind of pain that is experienced by watching a loved one in agony. This was attested to by my loved ones in their thoughts above, and I can relate, because I felt it strongly while watching my mother's suffering in her last months of life.
I'm very grateful for trained and experienced surgeons who can work miracles, but I know the greatest healer of all is my Savior. It was through faith and prayers that my life was spared. I received two Priesthood blessing prior to surgery, and felt the peace and calm all around me as I listened to those powerful, healing words.
Kim wrote, "When I went to bed that night I prayed they would move up the surgery to Tuesday to relieve the pain in my mother's head. My prayers were answered, as the next day, they said they were taking her into surgery that day." Kim also commented on the family prayer she offered before I went to surgery. "That was a very humbling experience, too. I could feel the spirit comforting all of us as we gathered around mom's bed and I said a prayer of thankfulness and asked for a blessing to be upon her and all of us and our families."
During my surgery, my husband went to the hospital quiet room and took time on his knees to pray for me. He told me later that there was a little book in the room for writing thoughts. He wrote, "Praise God for His blessings; blessed by His Son, the Grand Healer who, through Him, creates miracles for ALL of us, every day."
Kim also commented in that little book: "So grateful today for all of the blessings we have received. Thank you, Lord for answering our prayers and sending this comfort." The words Debi wrote were few, but powerful: "THY WILL BE DONE. Thank you Heavenly Father!"
When I was released from the hospital, three days after my surgery, I faced a long uphill climb back to my previous level of health. Mentally, I had to re-train my brain to do even the simplest things such as getting a spoon to my mouth. It was also difficult to get the task I was thinking about in my brain to travel to my arms and hands and respond with the correct action. In the beginning, I couldn't type; I couldn't write a sentence with a pen; and I couldn't play familiar music on my piano. These were all devastating to me, but I knew with determination and perseverance that I could move forward.
Physically, I had issues with balance and gait when walking. I kept running into things. The use of a walker was a Godsend, but still I would push it into a wall. Two months of physical therapy brought strength, balance, and coordination back to my body.
I lost all of my hair where they shaved my head for surgery, but it grew back, slowly. I look at pictures of my former self with long flowing hair and then I would look in the mirror and laugh. Yes, that former head of hair was fun to wear in all kinds of fashionable do's, but this new me, with barely an inch of hair on my head, looked at life with renewed gratitude.
It has been a little over a year since that first headache and I am sitting here writing my thoughts in perfect harmony with cognitive and physical unity. I hold each and every new day tightly in my hands and delight in the fact that it is mine to shape and enjoy. Though I could choose to waste my time on meaningless living, I choose to use up every single second in gratitude that the good Lord has seen fit to give me so many new days. I choose to do good works in my life, like offering help to my fellow man, loving more freely, giving more to those in need and showing more gratitude. I choose to let the frivolous things, like thinking only of me and my needs, live in the past.
I know now my life is indeed blessed, and I will move forward one day at a time, grateful for every sunrise.
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