Broken

These past few weeks have been hard and I'm feeling a bit broken. In November I had surgery - which has been a great success, 50 pounds so far - but I have also been very tired and at times, sick, because of it. I also moved, which has been a tremendous blessing. Back in January I went home for a visit and, in the end, got to be with Grandma in the emergency room. She past a week later. In the meantime I had gone back to VA and back to work. I, thankfully, went back to CA for the funeral and to mourn with my family. My Grandpa J has also been having some considerable health problems and is never far from my mind. Then back to VA to the most incredible of snow storms. I spent 3 days in the hospital then home for 24 hours then the next 3 days in a hotel and working. I came home only to wake up to a severe muscle spasm in my neck. I couldn't lift my head for days then finally went to the ER and got some relief. It's healing now (a week later I can move my head) but I'm exhausted. The first piece of advice I received from the neurosurgeon today was to d/c (discontinue) my job and get some rest. I haven't hardly seen my friends, I haven't been to church in almost 2 months, and I pretty well hate my job right now. All I seem to want to do is curl up on my couch or in my bed. My body hurts and my mind is worse. I'm supposed to go to work tomorrow night and the thought makes me cry. I'm just too tired and lonely to take care of others. I want my mother. I want to go home.

All that being said, there has been some divine intervention. When I arrived home after the first big storm my parking spot was chin high in snow. Just as I was losing my will to maintain sanity some men pulled up to plow the parking lot next door. $50 later my driveway was beautifully plowed. Highway robbery but completely worth it.

On Sunday I finally called a friend for a prescription for some muscle relaxants and pain killers. He stopped by, despite being awake for an obscene number of hours, and wrote for me. Then a friend walked over and filled them for me. And she brought me British movies to enjoy during my recovery.

On Wednesday I got myself to physical therapy only to have my therapist say my neck was far to unstable for her to do anything. She put me in a wheelchair and, despite my excuses, took me to the ER. There she stayed with me. I was given diluadid, a very potent pain killer, and I finally had some relief. Then another dear friend came over and filled my latest prescription.

I suppose the good comes with the bad. I just wish I had the constitution to be more, shall I say, optimistic and grateful.