But it didn't start off very well. First thing I was aware of on waking was someone hammering on my nephew's bedroom door, which is next to mine. I had to get up and go play the wicked witch, telling them to hush up. That getting up and walking across my room without any painkillers working in me, or any stretches to help me move is a killer. I drifted in and out (mostly out) of sleep for the next few hours, because the pain was B A D. A couple hours later my phone rang, it was a neighbor girl, thinking she had the house phone. I wasn't functional enough to do much more than let her know she had called the wrong line. I hope she didn't feel too terrible, because I know I sounded awful. After that call, I was just awake enough to take some Ibuprofen and then I actually fell asleep for a bit, only to wake up to the phone again. My phone hardly ever rings!
This time the call was from my sister though and I really wanted to be able to talk to her, but I still wasn't able to clear my head enough, so she let me go fairly quickly. All this made the potential for a wretched, weepy, grumpy, basket case day, over the top, but I think it won't be as bad as it could have been. I remembered to pray about it and I called my sister back to apologize and talked for a while. I'll be paying the price in pain for a few days for trying to do something about the wet carpet yesterday, but since I'm aware, I'm as prepared as I can be. I've been dealing with all this pain stuff for so long, you'd think nothing would surprise me and I'd be able to avoid the worst of it better, but I'm still boggled by the fact that such a small thing can wipe me out so badly.
Before I was injured and got RSD, I barely knew what it was to worry about hurting myself. I was a farm girl (an active farm girl) and I used to push cattle and horses around, drive the tractor, chop and haul wood, build fence, carry newborn calves in from the pasture when they wouldn't walk that way on their own, and all the other things that are necessary barn chores on a dairy farm. I was such a tomboy that I thought scars were cool, so I never worried about cuts and bruises toes being stepped on by cows. Now a horse stepping on my toes was another matter, because a horse's hoof has No flex and that's unbearable, but I lived through that too, once or twice. Fortunately the mare I handled most was usually very careful about where she stepped.
I still have many scars from being a head-long tomboy though. I was often called a "bull in a china shop" by my Mom and probably others too, because of how I charged through life, not worrying over how I might hurt myself. I was afraid to climb all the way up on the barn roof, but not of much else. I climbed to the top of every other roof on the place and up many a tree as well. I just never worried much about the potential for pain and injury, though I can't say I Liked pain when I had it. Very rarely did I let it slow me down though and after I left home to go on my own, I still continued on much the same. I was tough, I could handle it.
Well, no more... pain has finally defeated my head-long progress through life. I know there has to be a reason for all of this, in fact I think there are many reasons, but they probably all fall under the heading "depend on God, not yourself," but I still have so much trouble adjusting to this, even after nearly ten years. Whenever I think I have a handle on it, I am proven wrong yet again. I certainly know now that I cannot depend on myself and my own ability to make it through. I also know I need other people badly, but there pride rears it's ugly head again and I have a strong desire to hide myself away in a cave, or something, and never come out again. Wouldn't That just be great fun! LOL
Well, it's almost supper time, I'd better cut this short for now. I wonder how long I'll go on writing this much...
Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding!