Thursday, June 12, 2014

Mania cannot cloud the Real Purpose of life.

Gardening, cleaning, laundry, painting walls, hanging pictures, hand laundry, mending clothes, cooking, shopping for children's and household needs, and endless organizing.

Trying to control outside because I feel so chaotic inside.

Even though my mistake of when the surgery was supposed to be, bought me a few more weeks, it didn't help calm my nerves. I mean, anyone going in for surgery would be nervous. But, me? Just imagine. Actually, you can't. Nobody can imagine anyone else's emotions. In my case, though, I feel even more removed from most people's experiences because most people haven't had any of my experiences.

Sometimes, when I am walking on a leg so sore that each step becomes a concious decision, or when I crawl into bed at night with a pelvis hurting so much that I can hardly move, I am grateful that I decided to do the surgery and fix what can be fixed in there. Our electrician recently had shoulder surgery. He came the other day to do a job for us, and I asked hom how his shoulder is. He responded that it is great. No pain, working well. He asked me why I seemed surprised... he said "you do surgeries to fix things that hurt, then they don't hurt anymore". "True", I said to him (he doesn't know my story). "Yeah", I said to myself, "keep that message as truth". Surgeries are to fix things, and one can come out with less pain and the problem fixed. That is the goal.

It is just scary when one shoots for the goal, and misses. I know of so many stories, and so do you (well, you know my story, and I'm sure others as well).

So, the "mania" of doingdoingdoingdoing things, ending up over exhausted and in pain, unable to sleep until 2 or 3 am is what has been happening these past few weeks. Yesterday I had a low-level migraine, and my babysitter did, too! She didn't come, and I had a frenetic, frustrating day with driving, shopping, and kids. Each of those three things challenged me to the frustrating maximum. By the end of the day, with my body, also, challenging me in many more ways than pain, I had *nothing* to give to my last child to go to bed. Thankfully by then Robert was home, and he took over getting her to bed.

There was one completely awesome, Godly moment that happened yesterday that I hold in my heart as the reason yesterday was hard. I had the opportunity to do a REAL "tikkun", which is Hebrew for the concept of fixing the wrongs of history. History can, and does, repeat itself. That is true of parenting, also. Yesterday, I got the gift of fixing my own history. I was thrown into an exact replica of what I experienced... exact... and I got to fix it. And I did. And therein lies hope. (The concepts of tikkun and faith are THE central themes in my book, weaving understanding, sense and wit throughout my story of medical trauma).

Maybe that's why I got the gift of rest today. I am quite sure that Tikun Olam, the concept of correcting the world, *is* why I was thrown into this chaotic and traumatic road of being a survivor of NF. It has been an invitation.

Yesterday I got sucked into a traumatic day, and was given the gift of doing a tikun with one of my children.
Today I got to rest. The Maker of the Universe gave me a day off (Robert was supposed to be out-of-town today, it got canceled, and my babysitter already told me she couldn't come...). Is it because of recognising the importance of snatching the moment to do a tikkun? Maybe. I know that that moment yesterday, when I decided to apologize to my son and tell him about this tikkun, it was when things turned around. He loostened up, and it was a relief.

I connected with God yesterday, and I did His work. *That* was yesterday's purpose, and through all the frenetic frustrations the day carried, nothing else matters except that tikkun.
Thank God.


  1. I really wish you all the best with a full recovery-I know it is a very difficult time for you and your family-and will be thinking of you and wishing you well...

  2. OMG. You and your blog are amazing.
    I am awed by you, your insight, your faith (and you're so CUTE too! *;) winking) - but it pains me so that you and your family have to live through this stuff to end up there. sigh. oy.

    May we will hear good news!!

    -cheerleader Malka-
    Be'er-Sheva, ISRAEL

  3. I want to say that l wish you luck and l pray that you get some relief.

  4. So, the "mania" of doingdoingdoingdoing things, ending up over exhausted and in pain, unable to sleep until 2 or 3 am is what has been happening these past few weeks.

    So, do you see a pattern here? What would happen if you diddiddid less? Some things wouldn't get done, you might feel a little less hurt and exhausted, and y'know what?--The sun would still rise in the morning.

    You and I react so much alike, it's scary! My problem has always come from a couple of sources: first, I never want to admit that I can't do as much as I want, so I do it all and suffer for it. Second, I hate to give in and hate even more to think of myself as incapable--or, worse, as an "invalid." So I push to the point where i can't push any more, and suffer for it. Third, I want things to be perfect--or as near perfect as they can be--for my husband and kids, so I do what I think will make them happy; and the strain makes me suffer. I'm finally, after fify years, starting to learn! I'm trying not to expect perfection from myself (never have expected it from the rest of he family so why do I expect it from myself?) I've started learning to accept simple meals, and surface clean, and piles of ironing and mending (can't do the mending much any more because I can't see to thread a needle--thank Gd my husband learned to sew from his tailor father!). And I'm finally internalizing the alcoholics prayer, although I'm not and never have come close to being an alcoholic: "Gd, help me to change the things I can change, help me to accept the things I cannot change, and help me to know the difference." The big challenge is knowing the difference!

    So, my prayers for successful surgery and refuah sheleimah go with you--they wing their way across the ocean, over land, and straight from Chapel Hill to Be'er Sheva. And they travel on wings of love for a dear, dear frined.

    Shabbat shalom,