…a continuation of my story from August 23, 2017 … part XI… pregnant??
As I boarded the plane to fly halfway across the continent, I looked forward to a week-long seminar that my trainer had worked so hard for a few of us to attend. No babies, so maybe a week independent of family routines, household projects, bills to pay, classroom lesson plans, parent phone calls, testing, etc…. maybe having a week with one central focus would do me good? Maybe this might be a little bonus time for me to figure out what was truly going on with me. Maybe. All I had to do was attend classes all day, do a bit of homework in the evening and relax, right? Maybe I would have enough energy and no nausea and I could even exercise each day? Maybe?!
Day one… the shock of fatigue railroaded me. Day two… I could barely keep my head up at an early dinner with my colleagues. I bowed out before the meal was over and dove directly into bed. Days three and four put me alone for the entire evening after training ended at 4:00. Lying in bed, I struggled to get a snack for dinner and clawed through the homework as if I were dangling off a building holding on by my fingernails.
I really couldn’t understand what was happening to me. My chiropractor insisted that this was part of the residual effects of my concussion. But can a concussion make you feel this way eight months after the initial hit? Can a person truly feel nauseous, fatigued, dizzy and confused off and on for all this time? All the general doctors I had seen for this had only screened me for mood swings… linking these weird symptoms to my concussion only led them to say: “Aren’t you over that concussion yet?”
Well, that sort of thinking sends a person like me on a path of challenge mixed with spoonfuls of denial! If I am ‘supposed to get over this’ then what is my problem??? I need to buck up and fight. I need to rise above the storm – tackle this head on – overcome this adversity…
“O LORD, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar. You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O LORD, you know it altogether. You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high; I cannot attain it.”
Lord, only you know… how can I know?
As I fought my way through the final day of training, an endless day of taxis, planes and a bus… I needed to make a decision if I was going to follow through on next week’s four hour neurological exam. My hope was to cancel it and move past Dr. Jennifer’s noticings. Maybe there was something major wrong with me? Maybe I had cancer? Maybe I was anemic? Maybe that old liver issue had flared back up? Maybe … okay maybe… maybe the concussion did do some lasting damage?
Upon arriving home, all I wanted to do was plant tulips with my daughters and play outside in the extra warm November we had been graced with. But I couldn’t. My pillow was my only warmth and I played and planted in my dreams… another weekend disjointed from my family… missing out on their conversations and not tending to their needs. Survival. That was my only thought… if I can just survive this a little bit longer… maybe then it will go away?
On a delightful note… my daughters planted tulips without me, and as I lay sleeping, they sent me this sweet picture of assurance. The next spring, tulips popped up all over the yard rather than in the gardens… the random placement of these bulbs continues to bring me a giggle and a smile each spring… it’s all going to be okay!