Some days are for getting through. I never liked those days, but they happen and they are a reality. Today, I met my hospice doctor for the first time. He was lovely, and I vomited in front of him for good measure and over-sharing through bodily function. It was lovely. But he was truly helpful, and I feel he’s going to take a real interest in helping keep me comfortable. Jason and I were both comforted by his visit, his care, his demeanor. Along with our nurse and CNA, we have a great team of support. I know many of you have prayed for my team. Thank you- we have exactly the right people working with us.
Today we also visited the neurosurgeon to up my pain pump. This man is so tender and loving, I wonder why I fight so hard to not get his help sooner. I’m frustrated at myself just writing honestly my struggle at receiving the medical help I need.
So I confess, I tough it out too much- which leaves me with days to get through instead of days that could be great or normal even. It’s frustrating and it’s exhausting. Faking strength leaves us all weaker in the end. I’m a practical picture of that- but I think it’s true in so many areas of life.
I have a home full of love, of help, of support, and I’m still fighting to be strong. My Mickey, my brother, my guy are all available to help me in my weakness- and yet, and yet- I fake strength. It’s exhausting. How they keep putting up with me…. It’s grace, it’s such grace.
How are you faking strength today? What makes you afraid of help? Why is weakness something we fear so strongly? I have been left with a day to get through- but I don’t want to come back here. I want to limp along and let another carry me. I want to let another love me well in my low state. I want to seek and listen to the help that is offered. Will you pray for me. I’m as stubborn as they come.