Titanium

The last couple of days have been rough. Last night was just plain bad. I couldn't sleep, kept having trouble catching my breath, and the tension in my head was the worst. I've had enough of this! 

And then I remember Natalie going through spinal surgery last June. The months leading up to the surgery, the days spent mentally and physically preparing. The hours waiting before surgery. The 6 hour surgery, recovery, then excruciating days that followed, the horrible trip to the x-Ray department, the blood pressure dropping throughout the night, the effects of medicines on her body, the first attempt at physical therapy, the ride home, the trip to ER, the first month home. It seemed it would never end for her. All I could do was pray, watch, hold her hand, cry with her, laugh with her, encourage her, and yes, sometimes I did worry...I'm a mom. 

There were days, mostly in the wee hours of the morning, when she would just look at me and cry. She may not like that I'm sharing this, but those tears were showing such strength! She had held on for so long. Tried so hard. Put up with so much! Her body would betray her all day. She was so tired, then couldn't sleep. She was so frustrated that she couldn't do for herself the simple things everyone else took for granted. Bend. Lift. Twist. Shower. Get out of bed alone. Get in bed alone. Walk unassisted. Get in and out of a chair. Get in and out of a car. And on and on the list went.  I would read to her at night from a book called 14,000 Things to be Happy About. I read it in a British accent, of course, and it cracked us both up. She played endless games of "Monsters", and to this day I can't listen to that little song without my heart doing a flip. 

What's the point? Her surgery and recovery was long, difficult, and had more emotional and physical scars than we imagined. I only scratched the surface here. But almost a year out, we've learned that it passed. The unknowing. Passed. The fear. Passed. The waiting. Passed. The anger. Passed. The danger. Passed. 

And in it's place-strength. Titanium, in fact. 

If my then 15 year old germ-o-phobe-faints-at-everything can do all of that, then I can do this. Maybe I can get her to hold my hand or read to me in a British accent tonight...