This is my Testimony that I wrote a number of months ago. It has actually been 3 years and 4 months since my surgery but I wanted to post this because I had not done so before:
Recently, I started thinking that almost 2 years ago I had a life changing surgery. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was actually almost 3 years. I couldn’t believe that time had just slipped by so quickly. So, on March 1st 2016 it will be 3 years since I was released from a living hell of a crippling illness. Everyone knows HOPE is everything, but sometimes no matter how you look at it, HOPE seems to be nowhere. After having lower back surgery, I inexplicably began to have trouble walking. I had a severely dropped foot, constant nerve pain, and a partially paralyzed leg. HOPE began to slip away after exhausting all tests and follow up MRIs, even 2nd opinions, only to be told, “We just don’t understand what is wrong with you. We have never seen something like this before.” Each morning I would awake with hope that a miracle happened and somehow I was getting better. But as soon as the realization came that nothing had changed and I was even worse, an incredible despair and hopelessness would engulf me. There were so many days that I wanted to just give up but I kept saying, “Maybe things will be better tomorrow. If you are thinking of offing yourself, put it off until tomorrow and see.” By employing that tactic, I managed to stay in this world to see a miracle happen. I have no doubt that this miracle was from my persistence and constantly not taking NO for an answer, a doctor who actually sat down to think about my symptoms, and God. I don’t think I would have gotten better if all of these factors were not aligned. By God’s grace one of my doctors ordered another MRI and found the culprit, a benign spinal tumor compressing a portion of my thoracic spine. Faith is a beautiful thing and when life is going well, it is easy to have it. The true test of faith is when life is life—when you feel that all hope is gone and you cannot see your way out. So many people are waiting for a white light and burning bush to prove the existence of God, when He is there all along. I believe my horrendous experience was necessary to bring me to my knees and start believing. I do not think this was an accident and that there are no coincidences in God’s world. God was working in my life for a long time before I noticed it, even meeting Joyce and Bill, who introduced me to their church. If my son had not had the breakdown, I never would’ve met them. I think God was patiently waiting for me, only I needed the experiences I endured to discover Him. I still pray and pray for my boy, and sometimes, when I am in a bad space, I wonder if God is really listening. Then I remember I must have faith, which equals hope, which equals life. I do not know what the future holds, and I must remember that I am not in charge. It is when I turn things over to Him that I achieve that elusive gift of peace and serenity that I am constantly seeking.
It is amazing how twelve days can make such a world of difference. I am no longer getting home care because I am so much better and driving too. So many people take just plain walking for granted, and so did I, until I couldn’t. This whole hellish 6 months has actually given me a new understanding of people with disabilities. It has taught me to not take anything—even something as simple as walking—for granted anymore. I know that there is a finite period of time on this earth and I MUST live it to the fullest. I have to just conclude that this is a miracle of God that was bestowed on me and that there is a lesson to be learned. I have started back to the gym just to walk on the track (because there are handrails, just in case; I still get nervous when walking) and have also started doing some of the P.T. exercises I was doing with the therapist after my last surgery. I am very, very, determined to get back as much function as I can. At this rate, I think I will be good in a few months and will continue to improve more and more as time goes on. I finally have HOPE, something I have not had in 4 months. Every day when I can easily maneuver around without losing my balance, I am amazed, and who would’ve thought that something so seemingly simple could give me such joy? When I see people that knew me before this latest surgery, they say I am different, almost glowing. I feel that I have a shot at a life now, but I will not forget the months I spent as disabled, hobbling around with a cane, ready to fall over at the drop of a hat, not being able to lift my own leg into the car, being a menace on the road because my leg was sometimes unresponsive. I drove my car again last Wednesday and at first I was not used to the sensation of actually having power in my leg. But, after a few minutes, I got the hang of it and reveled in the feeling that I could stop perfectly whenever I wanted to. Before this surgery, I drove with my heart in my throat because sometimes my car would lurch forward when I didn’t expect it, almost hitting the car in front of me. I had so many close calls that I was thinking of not driving anymore, but I just vowed to be extra, extra, careful, putting my foot on the brake way before I had to and pressing hard. But, even then, it was such an effort to just lift my leg from the gas to the brake and back again because of extreme weakness. It is a blessing to just be able to drive normally again. It is almost as if I have awoken from a coma and now have to learn to walk normally again. My right leg was so atrophied from lack of proper use of the muscle but it is already starting to get some of the tone back. I am so grateful that words cannot even describe it. I find myself smiling more at people now and that in itself is miraculous.
Surgery was 6 days ago and I am still having pain in my chest. I was told it is due to chondritis (inflammation of cartilage between ribs) due to the back surgery. In the hospital, I am sure the staff must have thought I was a baby. They had absolutely no idea how really terrible I felt between the incision in the back (quite long), the reflux in my belly due to the pain meds, and the horrendously painful chest. Every time the physical therapists came around, I was in severe, severe, chest pain which impeded my progress with the walking. However, I must have still done decently because I did not quality for in-patient rehab. I am actually very glad that I went home because there truly is “no place like home”, at least for me. They gave me a shot in the hospital of Toradol for the inflammation in my chest. It made a world of difference, but once the shot wore off, the pain started in again with a vengeance. By the time I wanted to sleep, it was impossible due to the belly and chest pain. I got almost no sleep last night. I called the office and they prescribed oral Toradol, which I can only take for 5 days at the most. Unfortunately I ended up eating too much for dinner which is now causing pain in my chest again, just in time for bed. I hope I will not have another bad night. It is worse when I sit or lay down. It seems the less I eat, the better I am. I am done with feeling horrible—-it is time for me to get better and start living a real life. Unfortunately, my legs are still stiff as a board but that might be due to the trauma of the surgery. But, on a good note, my right leg has improved drastically and I am able to move it on its own, rather than me lifting it up with my hands. That’s major and hopefully, the other nerve problems will improve over time. At least the leg issue seems to have resolved immediately.
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