I’m trying to calm myself. I am taking ragged deep breaths and trying to calm myself. I am on a gurney, taking ragged deep breaths, trying to pray and calm myself. I am on a gurney, in the ER, taking ragged deep breaths, praying and trying to calm myself.
Sweat is pooling with the tears as I look over to see doctors and nurses moving about calmly taking care of patients methodically. Nothing like the ER’s I’d seen on TV. No urgency that I could detect. More sweat puddles more tears fall and I close my eyes and pray. And then it happens the pain is finally too much to bear and I slowly reach out a shaking hand to stop a passing nurse. “I’m sorry but how much longer before I see a Doctor?” “Cuz you see my leg is inverted and out of socket and it’s getting too much for me to bear” This nurse looks at me like “WTF” and then says ” You mean right now your leg is inverted RIGHT now!!! “yes I say” she starts to quickly unwrap my leg brace and sure enough there is my knee completely out of socket and inverted. Now the whole scene speeds up as if on cue to RED ALERT STAT. I am being wheeled into a room Doctors and Nurses are everywhere. They are throwing around words like heart rate dropping how long has she been like this, and she could lose her leg. I am being spoken too in urgent calm tones. Dahn Dahn I’m gonna give you a shot and then we are gonna pull…I mean try to put your knee back into place. 1, 2 , 3…Yep there’s the pinch of a needle and then I’m being held down by 5 people as I hear “Can I get a whoop whoop” by JayZ featuring Ja Rule playing in my head. Minutes later as I come too with an oxygen mask on my face and a room full of monitors. The nurse relates that while I was out I told everyone about my boyfriend Ali and how maybe we should wait to call him cuz he’d just left town and we don’t want to freak him out.
My pulse is being checked my knee is the size of a baseball. They explain how there is a main artery that runs down your leg and how mine was being obstructed (that’s what happens when your knee is inverted) for over 40 minutes. Which I hear is not very good for main arteries. They want to know why I didn’t alert someone earlier? My answer was sheepish and truly ridiculous. The truth was I was trying to be good. I was trying to wait my turn. I was trying to “THUG it out”.
I was the one who was always putting the “H on my chest” and putting on my “Big Girl Panties” even when I was a little girl. I learned to toughen up, be quiet and figure it out. No one likes a whiner and a cryer. Plus in my childhood well there just wasn’t a lot of room for all that being a little girl stuff. There was so much to get done. I remember my mom saying “you don’t have to like it but you do have to do it” and well that was my theme.
I didn’t have to like it …but it all had to get done. But something inside me always rebelled against this idea. Something always beat to another rhythm of …take care of yourself. You are worth looking out for. You deserve to be happy.
I married (my boyfriend) and he knew how to take care of himself. He took time out when he needed it got massages when he needed to and ate very healthy and good for him. I was in awe. At the same time he was a doer and a mover and a hard worker. Was I looking at balance? Wow! He didn’t like martyrs or those who chose to suffer. Working hard was one thing…suffering was optional.
When we first met him I had been plagued by nightmares for years. I would wake up in a total sweating panic and he would ask me what happened? The theme was always the same. I was in life and death danger in full view of other people. But I couldn’t cry out because I had a gun to my side. Or they told me there was a gun to someone else’s head that I loved. No matter what there was always something in the way of ME saving myself. In one dream I would even finally work up the courage to shout out for help after being in terror for God knows how long only to find I had no Frickin Voice I was a mute.
I was instructed by my boyfriend to take a Machete back into my dream. Yep a Machete a Gun a Sword any weapon my choice. The instructions were to hack, shoot, slice through whomever or whatever was trying to terrorize me. Shout! Yell!! Scream!! Tell them to do their worst I was instructed not to EVER go Quietly again! Fight Fight and Never Surrender!!
The nightmares subsided. But the theme still had its hold on me.
Becoming a mom only exasperated this. You know Mom’s are Super Hero’s right!
Now you really have to do for another. I mean their little lives depended on it. It was a role I was born to play. Up late. In bed last. House always clean everything just so. No time for taking time. Always on to what I didn’t finish what I still didn’t get done. I was a hamster on a wheel destination Martyr- dom.
My hubby would look on shaking his head as I lay there exhausted “still deciding to suffer huh” Still don’t want to sit down huh. Still don’t want to rest huh? Ok!
During the early kid years I would have breakdown moments of resentment and sadness. Annoyance and anger. I was such the victim. I always did the hard work I never have any help…yelp yelp yep. What about me…What about me… What about ME!!!
Well What about you!
One day I got up after a long night with one of the kiddies someone was sick. The babysitter had arrived and could take over but I didn’t want to go and take a nap. Oh no I had “things to do.” All of a sudden I thought about that time in the ER with my knee. I remembered what my prayer had been the whole time. I was praying for God to help me. You know that old story about the guy in the flood that prayed for God to save him. A car a boat and a helicopter had all come by to rescue him but he wanted “God” to save him. In heaven he asked God “What Happened why didn’t you save me. God said SHH …I sent a car a boat and a helicopter!
In my own life God had sent all these people strangers, friends, family, a Husband to Save me and yet I decided to do it myself and figure it out myself and well …suffer. I could do it “right” I knew how to do it “better”! Yeah anyway!!
Yesterday I had gum surgery.
Yikes! I needed to do it without being put under. Last year I had to do the same thing…no being put under it was Torture, It Was Awful it was Horrible. I Thuged it out!
This year my husband said NO Nope no more suffering!!! We will find the money for an anesthesiologist. NO!! Well the date had been set and no one was avail. I had Spring break and my birthday on the horizon and I wanted to be healed and ready to eat everything in sight by then. No he said. But I had a plan. You see I had done a bit of growing since last year. I had already decided to approach the whole process differently this time. No ignoring what had to happen until the last minute. No gritting my teeth and bearing it. No no no. So I brought the plan to my husband. He looked at me warily. He had conditions. First I would take all pain medication given to me…(don’t ask I don’t want to be a druggie). Next I would let them know if I needed more Pain medication if the first was not having the desired effect (see the first answer). Third I would relax and rest in order to recuperate (come on I had stuff to do don’t look like you don’t remember)!
I said Yes and one upped him. I researched homeopathy and other ways to prepare myself for surgery. I took the cures and the tinctures I meditated I prayed I saw the surgery going perfect and smooth. I cancelled volunteering at the school (gasp) I babied myself for the days leading up. Hair, nails done and done. Yep I could eat, drink and be merry. I relaxed I rested I watched funny movies. My hubby smiled from ear to ear!
The surgery was Perfection.
I am resting today! In fact I have to put away my computer now and get back to …
Taking care of myself!! Yipee!!
My H is still in place. I still get things done.
But I do not suffer.
My Thuging days are officially