"You might just have to go on light duty for a while"
"There is no such thing as 'light duty' on my unit, Doctor."
I try to half smile as we discuss the prognosis of my pesky ankle injury. I sit in the small exam room with harsh lighting and posters telling me to cheer up.
Last week I was overly exuberant about purchasing a long board for my twenty fifth birthday. I was having a blast and making jokes about pulling muscles related to my old age. As fate would have it I sprained/ pulled something in my right heel. Now one week later I am hobbling around and looking at my long board with longing (haha to word play) and a little bit of anger. Every step is painful. I get stares and looks of sympathy from people at the store. People offer to hold the door more often or extend extra politeness, which is certainly kind. However, I really do not prefer the extra attention.
This whole week has been such a journey. I have been trying to keep a positive attitude and learn what I can. First thing I'm learning is to be patient with my body. Things don't just change overnight. We live in such a fast paced, instant world. We have access to anything we want to know right away, food on demand and quick fixes for any problems anytime we need them. Our bodies still operate the same way they did hundreds of years ago. Our patience just has dramatically decreased. I tell my patients this all the time. The body sometimes just needs to take its course and heal. Now I am eating the words to my own sermon. Slowly with time, love, naproxen, ice and elevation I'm hoping it will heal up soon.
I have also learned to not take my health for granted. This summer I went on many runs, hikes, bike rides and late night walks without a care in the world. I've worked twelve hour shifts and come home to do more work or workout right after. I don't say this to come across as wonder woman, but to say that I took my healthy body for granted. I assumed my body would always work the way it should and had no question it would. Now the most basic of tasks take me twice as long. My brain thinks quicker but my body is slower to get there. I look out my window as runners pass by in the early morning and late evening. Apart of my heart aches because that was me a week ago and now walking to bathroom is a challenge. I see groups kids on scooters or dribbling basketballs down the street and my ankle starts to hurt just watching them run around. With my foot propped up on a beanbag I lie in my bed and watch the action out my second story window with only a novel to keep me company. I think to myself that when I feel a hundred percent again I will be thankful for everyday I can walk pain free.
The last thing I am learning is something I am still working on and the learning is ongoing as this journey continues. It is fear of the unknown. All the 'what-ifs' and questions that swirl my mind as the hours pass and the sharp pain continues to persist with each and every step. What about work? When will the pain stop? How much activity is too much? What if it gets more serious the more I walk? All of these questions my family doctor and I do not seem to have the answers to. This challenging time has given a great opportunity to trust in God and strengthen my prayer life because in this moment I genuinely feel weak. I know that when I am weak, he is strong. That is Sunday School 101, but when the times actually happen where you need to trust because there is no other option it all becomes more real. I also believe that God can heal this and I continue to pray and believe for that as well. I have realized that I have little control of the unknown. Stewing over the situation will not lesson the pain or make me better. Continuing to trust God, pray for him to give continued strength and healing is the only way to peace of mind.
This whole experience has also given me the ability to be more empathetic with those who struggle to walk, have disabilities or other injuries as well. If I have a patient with pain I feel like I can resonate more with their particular needs. I see the world a little different now in terms of distances to walk places or how much doing an activity will provoke the pain. I have a deeper understanding for their needs, and for that I'm glad to have this difficult time for that reason.
I hope this late summer is treating you well. Be thankful for the health you have or continue to press on if you're struggling with pain as well. Also try to look for learning opportunities in the challenges because during these times we will grow the most.
Wednesday, August 17, 2016
Monday, August 15, 2016
Just a Little Postcard
For the past three years I've lived at the same place. It's been such an experience having so many neighbors in every direction. One mom that lives down the street sticks out in my mind as person I would like to be like someday.
I started to notice her two years ago when she would walk her children to school. I would sit at the same place in my living room every morning to study, eat pancakes and drink coffee; but mostly just study. I always loved the soft morning light, cool morning breeze and the happy chatter as hundreds of children walked to the local junior high. After the morning rush of middle school kids and traffic settled down she would walk past my house hand in hand with her two children (probably taking the one to the local preschool).
In the midst of my mind being in a haze from reading about hemoglobin or discovering the fascinating pathophysiology of pneumonia I would hear them coming down the street. Most times I would hear her kids first; happily talking about the leaves on the ground or engrossed in a story about how big the monster was or how tall the Jenga tower was last night. She was always listening and ever present each morning. She was always asking questions and laughing as her kids told homemade knock knock jokes they made up on the fly. It was obvious she was making the most of each moment everyday with her children.
What also always impressed me was what she didn't do. She never yelled at her kids or acted like walking them to school was a hassle. If they got rowdy she would correct it, but she was never harsh or threatening. This is what probably stood out to me the most about her and her kids.
As the months rolled on and fall turned into winter I would continue to see them pass everyday. Their attire changed with the weather from jeans and sweaters to crochet hats and snow boots. She was still always the same: pleasant, kind, funny and full of life; just as much as her kids. I would cherish the mental break from studying as they would make their way past my house.
I often thought that she is the type of mom I want to be someday. She gives me hope that parenting is a joy and also a beautiful challenge. Since we are only a few houses apart I would see them a lot when I would be out as well. I would smile, say "Hi" and do the whole pleasant neighborly exchange, but they didn't know what an impact they were making on my life.
For weeks it was on my heart to write her a postcard just to say how much she inspired me. It was something to affect of how I think she's a great mom, I aspire to like her someday and seeing her with her kids is a bright spot in my day. Although I thought about it for a while it still took courage for me to do because it was a little out of my comfort zone. I found a postcard of an art piece that I liked and wrote a simple message on the back.
Writing it was easier then actually taking the action to deliver it. Being too cheap to buy stamps, I waited until her and her son went to pick up her daughter at preschool so I could drop it off incognito. I proofread it a hundred times before I nervously walked down the six houses that separate us to drop the post card off. On her front porch I put it under the welcome mat so the blustery winter wind wouldn't send it away. I had fumbled around a bit as to ensure it was sticking out enough she could see the pretty design yet secure enough it wouldn't blow away. With a little bit of adrenaline pumping and trying to be mindful of time I ran home; fully cognizant that I probably looked like a complete goon to anyone watching.
When I got home I did some dishes to release any nervous tension and reflect on what I just did. Apart of me challenged the whole idea and wanted to spring back to her place, pick up the card and forget the idea even crossed my mind. I mean, I signed the card "Emily, the girl who lives *described house* and wears the blue jacket". As the water from the faucet started to warm my freezing cold hands I settled into the task I was doing. I love writing cards and words of encouragement to people, but to people I don't really know is kind of challenging. As I scrubbed the dried pasta off an old lasagna dish I prayed that God would touch her heart with those words and it wouldn't be about me at all. Shortly after I felt a peace in my heart and almost an excitement about the whole thing. I thought of the words of edification and encouragement that I have received over the years. The ones that have stood out or carried the most weight were from people I would least expect or who didn't know me well but could see my heart.
Fifteen minutes seemed like an eternity until I heard them coming up the street. They were hand in hand, just like they always were. I dried the last dish and watched them make their way up the front porch. I almost laughed when all three of them walked right into the house not seeing the note sticking out the welcome mat! No one noticed at all, and I couldn't blame them. It was so frigid that after walking so many blocks it would be my soul purpose as well to get out of the cold and into the house. Well, mission of encouragement failed. It would probably blow away with the snow storm they were calling for later this evening and a middle schooler would find it next month when the snow melted away. Three seconds later the front door opened again. Much to my surprise her daughter walked out and picked up the post card and brought it inside. I smiled at the scene I just watched unfold. So they actually did get it. Now she was reading the words from the postcard and I just left it at that. I prayed again that God would speak to her more then any words I could say and then went back to the living room to study.
Its been about a year and a half since that day, and I don't have an amazing conclusion to this story to wrap it up. She never said anything about it and I certainly didn't either. I still yet to have a full conversation with her. When our paths cross now though she smiles extra big like she knows, but I'm still not sure. I smile too and say "Hello", but not much more. I live with a bunch of awesome people (and we all wear different colored stuff) so she probably knows it's one of us. Sometimes I forget about the note and sometimes I wonder what came of it. I pray sometime I'll have the opportunity or greater courage to get to know her better because she seems like an amazing person I could learn from. I see her or her husband out with their kids almost everyday. They smile, laugh and take so much joy in everyday life. Now it is summer so it's all about bikes, scooters and sidewalk chalk. It is still so nice to see them out and to have them as neighbors.
Due to the length of time that has past and the inconclusiveness of the story made me hesitate writing this post. In fact, I started writing this about two weeks ago and just left the tab open. The story would have more weight if lets say I knew something more powerful came from the note of encouragement. However, I believe the most amazing things happen that we will never know about. And honestly I like the mystery a little better then knowing. I like not knowing how she reacted or what came of the note. It is only for stories sake I kind if wish there was a story to follow through with the action.
When I think back to that day I think of how easy it was, how good I felt afterwards and to encourage others when they inspire me. I sincerely believe that the most beautiful things in life happen in the everyday. We just need the eyes to see and an open heart to embrace them and be inspired. This will challenge us and lead us toward doing good in our own lives. Someday, if I'm blessed to have children (long, long, long down the road) I hope I will think back to this family and be reminded of the joy parenting can bring. Until then I will continue to look for ways to encourage others and be inspired by all that's around me.
I hope you have an amazing week. Remember what inspires you, but also remember that you have the power to inspire others.
What also always impressed me was what she didn't do. She never yelled at her kids or acted like walking them to school was a hassle. If they got rowdy she would correct it, but she was never harsh or threatening. This is what probably stood out to me the most about her and her kids.
As the months rolled on and fall turned into winter I would continue to see them pass everyday. Their attire changed with the weather from jeans and sweaters to crochet hats and snow boots. She was still always the same: pleasant, kind, funny and full of life; just as much as her kids. I would cherish the mental break from studying as they would make their way past my house.
I often thought that she is the type of mom I want to be someday. She gives me hope that parenting is a joy and also a beautiful challenge. Since we are only a few houses apart I would see them a lot when I would be out as well. I would smile, say "Hi" and do the whole pleasant neighborly exchange, but they didn't know what an impact they were making on my life.
For weeks it was on my heart to write her a postcard just to say how much she inspired me. It was something to affect of how I think she's a great mom, I aspire to like her someday and seeing her with her kids is a bright spot in my day. Although I thought about it for a while it still took courage for me to do because it was a little out of my comfort zone. I found a postcard of an art piece that I liked and wrote a simple message on the back.
Writing it was easier then actually taking the action to deliver it. Being too cheap to buy stamps, I waited until her and her son went to pick up her daughter at preschool so I could drop it off incognito. I proofread it a hundred times before I nervously walked down the six houses that separate us to drop the post card off. On her front porch I put it under the welcome mat so the blustery winter wind wouldn't send it away. I had fumbled around a bit as to ensure it was sticking out enough she could see the pretty design yet secure enough it wouldn't blow away. With a little bit of adrenaline pumping and trying to be mindful of time I ran home; fully cognizant that I probably looked like a complete goon to anyone watching.
When I got home I did some dishes to release any nervous tension and reflect on what I just did. Apart of me challenged the whole idea and wanted to spring back to her place, pick up the card and forget the idea even crossed my mind. I mean, I signed the card "Emily, the girl who lives *described house* and wears the blue jacket". As the water from the faucet started to warm my freezing cold hands I settled into the task I was doing. I love writing cards and words of encouragement to people, but to people I don't really know is kind of challenging. As I scrubbed the dried pasta off an old lasagna dish I prayed that God would touch her heart with those words and it wouldn't be about me at all. Shortly after I felt a peace in my heart and almost an excitement about the whole thing. I thought of the words of edification and encouragement that I have received over the years. The ones that have stood out or carried the most weight were from people I would least expect or who didn't know me well but could see my heart.
Fifteen minutes seemed like an eternity until I heard them coming up the street. They were hand in hand, just like they always were. I dried the last dish and watched them make their way up the front porch. I almost laughed when all three of them walked right into the house not seeing the note sticking out the welcome mat! No one noticed at all, and I couldn't blame them. It was so frigid that after walking so many blocks it would be my soul purpose as well to get out of the cold and into the house. Well, mission of encouragement failed. It would probably blow away with the snow storm they were calling for later this evening and a middle schooler would find it next month when the snow melted away. Three seconds later the front door opened again. Much to my surprise her daughter walked out and picked up the post card and brought it inside. I smiled at the scene I just watched unfold. So they actually did get it. Now she was reading the words from the postcard and I just left it at that. I prayed again that God would speak to her more then any words I could say and then went back to the living room to study.
Its been about a year and a half since that day, and I don't have an amazing conclusion to this story to wrap it up. She never said anything about it and I certainly didn't either. I still yet to have a full conversation with her. When our paths cross now though she smiles extra big like she knows, but I'm still not sure. I smile too and say "Hello", but not much more. I live with a bunch of awesome people (and we all wear different colored stuff) so she probably knows it's one of us. Sometimes I forget about the note and sometimes I wonder what came of it. I pray sometime I'll have the opportunity or greater courage to get to know her better because she seems like an amazing person I could learn from. I see her or her husband out with their kids almost everyday. They smile, laugh and take so much joy in everyday life. Now it is summer so it's all about bikes, scooters and sidewalk chalk. It is still so nice to see them out and to have them as neighbors.
Due to the length of time that has past and the inconclusiveness of the story made me hesitate writing this post. In fact, I started writing this about two weeks ago and just left the tab open. The story would have more weight if lets say I knew something more powerful came from the note of encouragement. However, I believe the most amazing things happen that we will never know about. And honestly I like the mystery a little better then knowing. I like not knowing how she reacted or what came of the note. It is only for stories sake I kind if wish there was a story to follow through with the action.
When I think back to that day I think of how easy it was, how good I felt afterwards and to encourage others when they inspire me. I sincerely believe that the most beautiful things in life happen in the everyday. We just need the eyes to see and an open heart to embrace them and be inspired. This will challenge us and lead us toward doing good in our own lives. Someday, if I'm blessed to have children (long, long, long down the road) I hope I will think back to this family and be reminded of the joy parenting can bring. Until then I will continue to look for ways to encourage others and be inspired by all that's around me.
I hope you have an amazing week. Remember what inspires you, but also remember that you have the power to inspire others.
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