The Battle of Wounded Me

Posted on March 24, 2012by apronheadlilly

(Tonight's sunset: I may be injured, but not so much I can't hobble out and capture cool skies. It's like the Hubble Telescope, only with a Hobble.)

Consider:

1. A hiccup is as painful as a sneeze. Not that you could stop either even if you wanted to.

2. Right turns in the car are the worst, so have husband only turn left. It could be a long ride home.

3. Find out why time passes slowly when you hurt or are in the dentist’s chair, but quickly vanishes on vacation. Ask a scientist or a philosopher.

4. Dismiss any kid from class who has an injury worse than yours. It will diminish your sympathy quotient.

5. Find out why the meds given to help with pain inflict more pain in the way of migraines, not to mention acute liver failure or dementia probably sometime down the road. At least, I’ll know who to blame, if I can remember. Ask a friend. Do not ask a doctor.

5. Find out why when you go to the doctor because of an increase in pain, she hounds you about your LDL. As if I care when I’m dying. Do not ask a doctor. Ask a lawyer.

6. When you are already in a deep whine, do not share said whine with husband. He will try to cheer you up with jokes when all you need is a good cry. If you get the jokes, you will still get the cry because laughing hurts–almost as much as hiccupping and sneezing and burping and moving and living.

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The title is meant to be a clever allusion for humor’s sake and is not meant to disparage Amerindians or Kevin Costner’s role in Dances with Wolves, so leave me alone. Venting is a form of homeopathic health. At least, that is what I am telling myself. And don’t ask the husband. Ask me!

(This was taken this morning on the way to work--sacrificing for art y'all! Notice the cool circle rainbow.)

Impatient Patient

Posted on March 12, 2012by apronheadlilly

 

Is it done yet,
healed?
Six weeks is a long time;
can we just be done?
Like yesterday!
My cracked rib still hurts–a lot!
Are we there yet?
Don’t make me laugh; it hurts to laugh.
Actually, it hurts to cough, to lift, to move–
and who knew a burp could be such torture.
Stop cracking jokes. Very funny!
Ouch.
Hey, is anybody listening up there?
Is it done–are we there yet!

Oh, bother . . .

The waiting, the now . . .

It's the waiting that gets me.
Always the waiting,

never the now,

longing for change, but

change comes in the later.

The past seems to hold regrets

or nostalgia

that trumps anything remotely real and present.

It’s the waiting that claims me,

disatisfied but hoping, but

hope comes tomorrow.

The promise of future

trumps the eyes wide open in the now.

As I have received, I must walk,

rooted–set down, dug in,

grounded–growing, firm, solid,

built up, not torn down

in each now,

each moment,

each faith-step,

rooted and grounded, built up in You.

Let the waiting wait–

I will set my weak self in You.

More life not less . . .

For the last year and a half I have been seeing an upper cervical chiropractor.  The upper cervical variety does not adjust the patient with the well-known air popping manipulations and contortions that make you feel like you really got your money's worth.   The gentle, almost imperceptible push aligns the head so that blood and nerve flow are not impeded by the pinching off due to misalignment, the product of aging, abuse, and neglect.  The theory is that having been freed up to "fire" correctly from brain to body, the body will start to heal itself of the distortions that were the body's means of coping with the misalignment and pressured nerves.  It is said that the body will retrace its injuries so that healing can happen, and there are enough testimonials to make it appear that this is so.  I'm still waiting to be someone's success story.

I got to thinking that there is a spiritual application here.  When the life of the Spirit flows through us unhindered, we often expect that all should be well.  But the resulting pain and tweaking we experience is a retracing of old wounds--a retracing necesary so that they may be healed.  The free flow of energy to previously closed off places exposes to the healing power of God those heart hurts and dark hidden compensations that have kept us sick.   And sometimes, there is more pain in the healing process than in the ignorance and denial.  But in the untwisting, the poor functioning places receive life--life that will breed more life.  Of course, I would prefer "instant" rather than "process," but the goal is more life not less.  So, Lord, may I be Your success testimonial.