A Wake Up Call

I had a whole other blog planned for today. It can wait. In past blogs, I have written about the other blogs I read that give me inspiration and strength. One that I never miss is written by Stephanie Nielson who, along with her beloved husband Mr. Nielson, was in small plane crash. Each had injuries but she was burned over 80% of her body including her face. She just recently had a baby and had to have surgery immediately afterwards to repair her burned skin on her belly. Very painful. Her other four children welcomed the new baby, Charlotte into this world. Stephanie is just 30-years old. 

Here is her site:    http://nieniedialogues.com/


This morning, I was feeling a bit down. I am exhausted but not sleeping. The world is quiet and dark from 12:30-5:00. I know. I watched. Is it the large prednisone dosage? Am I so overtired that I can't settle in to sleep? I so miss my former good health just months ago before the bronchitis. 


Then I read Stephanie's column this morning. I have nothing to complain about. It was a wake up call. What especially called to me: I pray for strength and peace.I know we each have individual trials specific to us, and this is mine. 


So, I will head into the world this morning and do my best. I will get home and take a nice nap this afternoon and go to orchestra rehearsal tonight. My life is a cakewalk compared to what Stephanie is going through now and the rest of her life. The pain must be incredibly horrible. 

Here is her blog for today:

I am home from the hospital after another long and painful surgery.
I walk hunched over with 2 diffrent drains coming out of my body.
I was so anxious and frustrated having to leave
Charlotte and go in for surgery,
but this procedure was time sensitive and had to be done.

Walking up from anesthesia is always the worst.
Getting the pain under control is hard and takes time.
When I woke up it was 11:00 p.m. I went in for surgery at 11:00 a.m.
Mr. Nielson stayed with Charlotte as long as he could and then left my room
with my pumped supply of milk and
I was alone. I felt alone too.

Mr. Nielson came the next morning with Nicholas and Lottie.
Nicholas walked into my hospital room and wouldn't look at me.
He walked close to Mr. Nielson holding his hand and looking at the floor.
I thought about the time when the children came to
see me the first time since the accident.
How I felt, how they acted, how I acted, how the looked and showed emotions.
Then I remembered I was fitted with a neck brace and had oxygen tubes in my nose.
It was a bit frighting.

{Lottie asleep in the hospital baby bed}

Nursing Charlotte at first proved to be extremely painful
but as days go by, it has been much easier.
I am always amazed at how hard these episodes are.
Even though I have been through numerous surgeries and
hospital stays it never gets easier.

The children hate to see me in pain.
Oliver cried when he saw me. He has such a tender little heart,
and he told me he hated to see me sad and hurt.
I had a good cry right along with him.

I thought being home from the hospital would be easier.
Better food, better views, my bed, my toilet and so on and so forth.
But instead it is constant reminder that I can't do the things I freely did just a week
earlier, and that bothers me.

Mr. Nielson keeps telling me that this is just temporary and I will be back soon.
I know that is true, and I know it wont always be so hard.
But it is.
I try to live hour by hour not thinking too far ahead.

Last night in bed I kept thinking about how my 30 year old body
feels like a 100 year old body and I still couldn't get over the fact that
this one shot at life- this beautiful mortal life has been so hard.
Yet still a gift.

I had a dream last night that I was at my families cabin in
the mountains in Utah.
I was young and my body pain-free.
I was me about 20 years ago.
I was wearing a night-gown with ruffles around the collar.
I had braids in my hair.
I went to bed upstairs in the loft and woke up in severe pain.
I couldn't walk very well and my stomach and back hurt so intensely.
I tried yelling for my Mom.
I walked down the stairs and into her bed and I cried to her and told her that
I hurt all over and she held me and tickled my back.
She told me that I had to go through this pain to have a beautiful life.
I didn't understand.

I woke up in my bed in pain and I missed my Mom.
I wondered about my dream.
My door opened and Nicholas came in.
He looked like a little angel.
His hair was messy and his jammies hugged tight to his little body.
He climbed onto my bed next to me and asked me
5 year old questions.
As I tried ticking his back with my wraps and tubes,
but I think then I understood my dream.

I have a beautiful life. The people in it are beautiful and this pain
is all worth it, I still cry a lot but pray more.
I pray for strength and peace.
I'd choose pain any day if it means I can have my family and my
knowledge of God's plan for me.

I know we each have individual trials specific to us, and this is mine.
But just like this trial is mine, so are my children and my husband.
And I am never alone.