One week from today! Seven days! Only four more nights in my own cozy bed then a few nights in a hotel bed (till I’m settled in with my friends at their temporary home). Only one more ‘garbage day’ here (Babe, did you remember to take the trash down?). Four more showers here. One more Ortho-Bionomy therapy…one more chiro treatment…four more times to see the dogs eat their ‘supper’. It’s just for a little while. A few weeks. Maybe 10…Oh, no! How am I gonna do this? (sad face, even weepy)
There was a time, back in another day, when I loved to travel. Venturing on to new adVentures was my style. Or used to be. For the past 15 years, in many ways, I’ve not been much of myself, just not felt comfy in this fibromyalgia/RA/chronic fatigued skin. There’s been a new ‘norm’ in my life. Even at that it’s felt like all my days were like a humongous box of chocolates! And home is where I preferred to be.
Autoimmune dis-ease, or any illness, has a way of messing with your life…and its plans. So, I am extremely blessed to have this opportunity to hang out in a clinic where ‘chronically-in-pain’ people go to experience wellness. Some come from all over the world to The Neurologic Relief Center. Some wait years to afford to go, while in unbearable pain, knowing there’s a place of hope in the unlikely state of Arkansas. I know this because there’s a woman who arrived in her wheelchair of five years (CRPS), the last two years knowing where she needed to go but had to wait for the funds to make it possible. Recently, she walked out of there after ten weeks (gave her wheelchair away just three weeks into treatment)! Praise the Lord for these stories and there’s so many more like hers.
I’m not in a wheelchair. Now now. I did have to use one almost six years ago when inflammation and Baker’s cyst caused my right knee to blow up like a small basketball. That crazy localized pain allowed me to ignore the level 9.9 pain I was in all over my body. Around that time I was given a beautiful Buzz Around scooter (I didn’t necessarily want it, lol) and that was how I got from bed to bathroom to kitchen and back…for several months. Inside my head and heart, I was not ready for that life. Really, who is?
The fight to get well eventually settled into a quest to manage pain…so I could function. And I have. If you didn’t know me and couldn’t see my hands or how life is from evening till around noon when pills, salves and supplements have kicked into gear…and you just saw me during the afternoon hours of a ‘good day’ at 5-7 pain levels during low activity, you might say ‘you look great!’ I know cuz that’s what friends say when they see me.
Enough of me from then till now. Onto meeting my future healthier self. I’m gonna say it begins now since hope is here, packing needs to be done and bye-byes need to be said.
And the (ad)venture begins! Blog ya soon!
Journey with me on hinds’ feet, trekkin’ on high places! (Habakkuk 3:19)
PS – If you haven’t read Hinds Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard, pls do!