I visited the rehab center in Mount Pleasant again today.
Starting over.
It was rather a bleak experience.
With the physical therapist, I reviewed the program and planned out our rehab efforts for the future. While we were discussing it, Ben, the therapist, mentioned that he'd heard on the news about the passing of Elder Wirthlin the night before. He suggested that Elder Wirthlin's recent conference address would make a good theme for my efforts, "Come What May, and Love It".
In spite of some serious misgivings, I went through the therapy workout. I can't say I have as good an attitude as Elder Wirthlin had about life, but I am trying.
I proved that I have some new challenges to work on. Ben said his evaluation indicates I could benefit from more upper-body development, so that dimension is added to the workout regimen. In addition, I renewed my general complaint about mileage on the treadmill, but I can't walk across the room without the threat of falling down. More true than ever.
All in all, lots of work faces me. Easier to give in to the brain damage and depression. I'm determined to get out of the bed, and do the work. As Elder Wirthlin counseled, I will keep trying to look forward to "Come What May, and Love It".
6 comments:
Sometimes I think that the work we have to do is the best thing we have going for us.
If your experience with your brain injury is anything like my experience with my daughter's brain injury, you never "get back" to where you were. Life is never the same, even where it might become routine, even where you regain some range of "normalcy." The work is relentless and never ends.
But each time I look out at the world now, I see it differently. Just about everything comes as a revelation. So often I catch myself saying, "Wow, look at that! Why didn't I see that before?" This goes to what I said before about how we might not be able to extend our lives, but we can certainly deepen them.
The deep work of brain rehab is work of an epic nature. You have to man a crew, sail between crashing rocks, deal with cyclops(es), witches, skeletons sprung from teeth, minotaurs, foul kings and mad queens -- you name it, it's all there, blocking your way. And did I mention there's no map? You have to make the map as you go. You have to more or less blaze your trail while facing overwhelming and sometimes supernatural obstacles, including wraiths who whisper in your ear that it can't be done.
All I ever had during the hardest times with my daughter was one more day and the seemingly hopeless, nameless work I had to do moment by moment. I never knew if anything I was doing would pay off or if any of the sacrifices from my own life I made would ever come to anything.
Eventually, everything I was doing paid off in some way -- it still is -- and some of the sacrifices I made resulted in life being returned to me with interest earned. People's interest hasn't always been very high, but God's has been.
Furthermore, the world needs you to find out what's possible, Jim. There's no way to figure that out until you get out there, do the work, and come back to us and tell us what you learn.
Interesting timing for his talk, don't you think? What a wonderful note to leave on the way to his own eternal reward. My family and I discussed it in FHE last night...
Great talk - great man.
Sooo...are you going to tell me what you were going to say at BCC or have you lost interest in saying it? Because my interest in hearing it is still keen. But if you've let it drop, that's okay.
My husband and I are driving over to Cortez CO today because that's the nearest Walmart. Takes us half the day to drive, shop, get home, and then we're dodging highway deer after dusk. That's one thing I don't understand about deer. Why don't they learn about highways, like raccoons and coyotes do?
Patricia,
I am neglecting to respond because other things have been competing for attention, not that I am passing over your comments. I generally like what you have to say, but I am fond of being lazy, too. So I think of marvelous responses, then never bother to write them. Does that kind of thing happen to you?
On BCC, my first thought was that the entire thread was rather academic. I was going to quote Alma's response to Korihor, that all things testify of Christ. But it got caught by the BCC comment blocker. I guess I offended one of those guys back in ancient times, and he elected to put me on their blacklist. I did not care enough to bother with circumventing the blocking.
Anyway, as you can tell, my personal energy level is very low right now. I have terrible headaches most of the time, and don't like to complain, but I cannot find analgesics that give any relief or respite.
I am sure I don't need to explain any further to you about dragging around, weary as can be. It is a vicious problem to try and find a solution for -- as I get more tired, I am too feeble-minded to think of reasonable solutions or options. My parents help, but they can't do everything.
Sometimes I feel all alone in this effort, no understanding from doctors. They make assumptions about what they should be treating without asking all the right questions. It is sometimes downright exasperating, trying to get someone with a medical degree to sit down and listen for a minute. I think they all must have special training in hyperactivity or something.
Bill,
Cousin Becky made the observation that Elder Wirthlin basically died in the saddle, working up to the day he died. It is a testament to perseverance. An example I aspire to.
Jim, I don't think of your gaps as "neglecting to respond." As I said, I comment to let you know I'm still out here, and you can answer, if it works out, or you can just let the comment through, and then I know you're still there and that you know I'm still here.
Would you mind if I just wrote here sometimes, little things to let you know I'm thinking about you? If you're too weary to respond, you can just let the comment through, and that will be enough of a response.
I am so, so sorry about the pain you're suffering. Have you tried cranial massage? It has a relaxing effect and in many cases, but not all, relieves some pain.
I think of you often and wonder how you're doing. Just so you know. When you can write, I'll be here to read.
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