I had a 'I used to' filled workout at NLXF last night and I left feeling incredibly defeated. I was ready to throw a monumental pity party for myself. And then I scrolled through my Facebook newsfeed and saw pictures of two young children that are battling cancer in the area. Needless to say, the pictures and their stories screwed my head back on straight and refocused me on what truly matters in life.
I had a severe stroke. I have a rare brain condition. I am entitled to express anything I feel and those thoughts and emotions are justified. BUT, does it really matter if I can sprint or roundhouse kick? ABSOLUTELY NOT.
What matters is that I am alive--that we are all alive and given the chance everyday to experience the beauty of life. Like the unbelievable sight of a sun dog on a cold day, the warmth of another persons touch, the joy from sharing laughter with friends, and the feeling of the unconditional love you have for your children and they have for you.
Those are the things that matter. Those are the ways in which God shows me that He is with us all.
I, unlike these beautiful innocent children, lived 32 years of life before tragedy struck me. I pray for them everyday. I ask that you pray, or wish on stars, or cross all your fingers and toes--whatever you believe in--please do it for these children. I also understand the power of positive support. Please read their blogs, send them encouraging messages, deliver meals, buy support bands,....whatever you can do, whether big or small, will move mountains for these families.
There are three moments in time: past, present, and future. I have renamed these to: I used to, can't change it, and just in case. Let me explain.
The most frustrating points in time are those where I am stuck in the 'I used to.' When I am around my girls I have constant thoughts about how I used to be able to pick two of them up at a time, run with them, keep up with their energy, etc. With Patrick I only have one thought that just plays on repeat in my head: I used to be the one he never needed to worry about. At work I often think about how I used to play with the kids, play in faculty vs. student volleyball, set up equipment on my own, and just simply be GSD. At NLXF, I look around the room and think, I used to lift that much, I used to be able to roundhouse kick, I used to be comfortable standing in the front of the room, etc.
I used to, I used to, I used to.
Then there are the beautiful moments where I realize, understand, and am content with the fact that I have no control over what happened or will happen. My mind is not clouded by fear or worry and I clearly focus on what truly matters. I live for the moment and allow myself to truly enjoy life. I wish that were my every moment.
And then there is the painstaking state of the just in case. I honestly cannot decide if this or the I used to is worse. Everytime I pick up and carry one of the girls or give piggyback rides I immediately ask myself, "Should I be doing this? Is this too much weight to pick up and hold? I should probably put her down just in case." If I feel 'off,' I contemplate whether I should tell those around me just in case. Every other minute of a workout at NLXF I tell myself to slow down or lift less just in case. Should we really plan a vacation for a year from now just in case? And the king of all the just in case....creating a brain surgery fund.
Nearly every thought I have throughout the course of a day starts with 'I used to' and is followed by 'just in case.'
Where is all of this coming from? It has always been there. But it hit me hard yesterday at my neuroopthamology appointment in Iowa City. My eye has now had a stable enough reading to pursue permanant options to remedy my double vision. Great news, right? Nope, not to me. All I heard: "You are done improving from your stroke." I then found out that my current prism strength would make my glasses as thick and as heavy as coke bottles if I had them ground in to my glasses lens. So, needless to say, that option is out. My second option is to keep my sticker prism I have now. That option has been working fine, I just don't see the clearest for me to justify making it a permanant fix. Finally, there is eye muscle surgery. I would be put under as my surgeon would enter through the membrane of my eye and pull the muscles on the side of each eye to realign them and hopefully correct my double vision enough so that my brain could rewire the rest of the way and completely rid me of my double vision. It would be an outpatient surgery and if all went well I would be able to go back to work in three days or less. Better yet, it could be done as many times as needed just in case. It is an extremely common and routine surgery. My surgeon completes thousands of them a year.
Sign me up, right? No. All I could think about as my doctor explained it was, what if my Cavernoma bursts from the stress of the anesthesia? Which leads me to another crappy state of mind: being scared of EVERYTHING.
So I got home and ate my weight in Doritos and read through some messages to help lift my spirits. One of my friends always responds to my worries by saying that she is sorry, but she's so glad I amhere. She sent me this text before my eye appointment and as I re-read it last night I realized that she was right. All that matters is that I am here. I am alive.
BUT, if I truly have been living with this my entire life I shouldn't be scared. I went 32 years without a bleed. I played sports, had surgeries, flew on a plane, worked out hard....I lived without fear. I have to try to do that now too.
So, I woke up today and started fresh...again. I spent the afternoon with some of my favorite people.
And when I got home I witnessed Myah and her first crawl. Well, more like an army crawl, but either way she is beginning to move!
And after today I realize that it is ok to live in the I used to and just in case. Because sometimes they help me really appreciate the precious moments of life and the people that fill them.
