...not anyone's favourite thing to do, I am sure (?) Waiting. The need to be actively working on overcoming current challenges, whatever those might be, is seldom content with the idea of just waiting. But, ah, what do you do when there's few other options? Usually, my 'waiting' would look more like obsessing, while trying to find that one solution/approach/logic I just must have overlooked, while suffocating in the anxiety/guilt that what I am doing/planning/remedying/coordinating (and and) is just not good enough. It's a control thing. A fear thing. A trust thing. So, when recovery from Sam's Dec 2020 surgery was thrown a bit of a spanner in the works by something as seemingly insignificant as an ingrown toenail, I decided to be more intentional about the waiting this time. So how's that going then? 😁
Well, it's a little all-over-the-place...much like my speech, feet and ridiculous number of forgotten-about cups of tea. And it's kinda hard work...like all the worthwhile things are, of course 😉. There are days when just 'standing' (ironically) in the moment, allowing all the disappointment and frustration to just soak through that mama-bear armour is actually pretty bearable. Weirdly welcome (I sometimes worry that too many things not going quite according to plan, have made me desensitized to feeling those things). Once those feelings have been processed and reflected upon, reading old journals or blog posts to remember other tricky moments which seemed just as overwhelming at the time but which were then overcome (sometimes in unexpected ways) has been wonderfully cathartic. Well, except for those awkward moments when I had to remind myself (with sufficient amounts of cringe) that the author of those all-too-often whiny posts in between, was in fact me 🙈 Hey, even scrolling back on some FB memories, when cringeworthy blogs and/or emotion-bombarded journals aren't available, can do the trick! Anything that triggers gentle reminders of all which has already been overcome. And how. And then? And then there's scripture, prayer and worship. And hope. And trust. Waiting intentionally.
Some days.
But some days surrendering the need to control the waiting (because who even should be wanting to control waiting? Well, me. I do!) just seems impossible. And instead of standing there's more of a somersaulting (clumsily so) in between Googling possible new strategies, doubting and regretting my reaction time to that silly little toenail, certain that if I hadn't left it for so long it might not have had such an impact on Sam's foot. And generally just obsessing about what other unexpected spanners might be hiding in the works as a result. The balance right now between waiting intentionally and somersaulting clumsily is not ideal but I am hoping that as the intentional waiting is mastered (or even semi-mastered) it will get better.
Anaesthetic #20something made for a fabulous catch-up nap from far too many leg-spasmy, sinusy-filled, sleep-deprived nights before. Well, for Sam at least!
The toenail of the hour. Who would have thought something so small could have such a huge impact? That that uniquely-designed foot, newly confident in the support it now had from its 'freshly-arthrodesized' right foot, would go from eagerly wanting to walk (and beautifully so) a few months ago to contorting, in an attempt to self-alleviate the painful toe, into a position more compromised than even before the surgery. But oh, those precious moments when Sam walked into his first few post-op physio sessions, barely holding onto Aunty Nicole, or occasionally (without even realising it) would stand on his own. And how beautifully straight the left foot sat just after surgery, the straightest it had been in twelve years! Those moments are filled with hope of more. Aaaaaand, with full recovery from the surgery having been estimated initially at around 10-12 months, we're still well within our timeframe...spanners and all 😂
The song below by Lincoln Brewster has made many a 'waiting intentionally' moment more achievable...even when it is sometimes the cause of a painful auditory assault on those unfortunate enough to be within earshot, as it is huffed-and-puffed out by my headphoned, treadmilling self! It's well worth a listen.
