Agony of de Feet!

I hate to be a whiney baby...but this whole recovery thing stinks. I mean, people keep bringing me food every day. I haven't been able to do the housework that I so love to do. Someone else is carting my kids all over creation. People are calling me every single day to say, "How are you? I've been praying for you. Feel better soon!" My husband has to help me up, down, and into bed. I have to have my foot propped on three thick pillows. I have been robbed of the privilege of doing laundry.(Please stand by while I regain my composure.) I have been stripped of my God given right to go to the bank, to dash in and out of Wal-Mart, to stroll to the library and return books that are 6 weeks overdue, to make a last minute run to the grocery store right before it closes. Is anyone shedding a tear for me yet??? It's rough, I know, but some how, some way, I will survive.

A little tongue in cheek humor there. Actually, all of the above represent the beautiful side of recovering from a major surgery. Of course, if you don't have a strong network of family, church or otherwise, you might not have the wonderful help I do.

I can't thank the Jefferson Lighthouse Baptist Church enough for all their sacrifice and help during this time. The family of God has stood by my bedside many times, whether it be hospital bed or my bed at home. It's been a thick and thin relationship that has never given way under the pressures. I can only hope to return the blessing to each of the ladies. God knows my heart. I want to, more than anything I want to.

However, there are some agonies of de feet that I have to come to terms with on my own. With all the positives, there are some negatives I have to deal with, and to be honest, I don't have an easy time dealing with them. For instance, I am immobilized to the point that I can't even do a simple task. That greatly aggrevates me. I was sitting here last night with our dinner guests, (they had brought us all the yummy fixins for tacos and stayed to dine and clean up) and I noticed this enormous cobweb. Under normal circumstances, I would have done all I could to detract any attention from what seemed to be obvious. But instead, I just sat there in my wheelchair helplessly awaiting the cobweb's debut. I don't know if my dinner guest noticed it, but all I could think was, "Some creature sure was busy during this past 2 weeks!" Doesn't make a homemaker feel too good.

Although I don't miss grocery shopping, I miss being able to drive. I won't be able to drive for another 4-6 weeks. That's a real bummer because I really dislike asking people to run errands for me. And with Kevin's busy schedule, it makes it double hard on him.

It sounds fun to ask someone to hand you something that is 6 feet away from you, but after a while, you just want to be able to do it yourself. However, getting it yourself is not that easy. My foot is supposed to be elevated above my heart. So in order to get something even six feet away, I have to remove the leaning tower of pillows, de-recline the recliner, pull myself up on my crutches, and hobble the few steps away to get whatever it was I wanted, find a way to carry it back to the recliner (hopefully in my mouth or under my arm squeezed beside my crutch). And then if I drop it! AACCCCKKK!!!!!! To sum it up: I have to really want it bad to get it myself. It's just so much easier to ask someone else to get it. But asking someone else comes with a twinge of guilt. ;> Vicious circle, I know.

It's not only the guilt of always having to ask someone else to do a simple task for you, it's also the fact that you like the way you do it better. Oh boy, this is a real issue for me. As I wheel through the kitchen in my wheelchair, I am at eye level with my countertops. When I see crumbs, microscopic though they may be, I ask, "Dear Lord, where have I gone wrong? I have shown these kids time and time again how to clean this counter. Where's a dishcloth...." Now this is where I get in real trouble with my husband. As he wheels me out of the kitchen, I am wiping the counter as I go, just a'pitchin' a hissy fit. Then I start in about the microwave, and the refrigerator, and the sweeping, and the mopping. Oh, wait...that's how I am even without surgery! Seriously, I want to reclean what my husband and children are trying to clean, and it wouldn't be so bad if my hands, or in this case, my feet, weren't tied.

Another form of agony I feel is my restriction from the piano. My surgery was on my pedal foot, so I can't play the piano for at least 6 weeks. Now that makes me sad. I have tried crossing my legs and using my left foot on the pedal, but it is too awkward. I will enjoy hearing the choir from the pew for a change, but I will greatly miss my place on the piano bench.

Yes. The agony of defeat, or de feet. Either way, I'm experiencing it. I know I'll come out on top, but arising as the Victor takes alot out of a person. It most definitely takes a lot out of their family. I'm thankful for their help, and I'm thankful to God. Without them, I could never be victorious at all.

Above all, I want to be thankful that my condition is very temporary. I'm not permanently confined to a wheelchair, and my prognosis is great, of course. Lest I should be seen as unaware of how great I've got it, I want to say I see sunny days ahead!