I'm messed up! This post stroke journeying process needs to be real for me to fulfill the purpose of looking back and being encouraged, so honestly, I've had a mini-meltdown. The past six days have been quite an adjustment having to wear the heart monitor 24 hours a day. Just selecting outfits with sufficient pockets for the battery pack and communicator (phone) is a challenge; not to mention trying to sleep with wires all over your chest and a battery box clipped onto your nightgown!
Presently, I'm wide awake because the batteries just died at 3AM and a beeper went off awakening both me and my husband! I was ready to throw this contraption in the lake.
A couple of post stroke quirky comments have been realized by my husband and me. While we've laughed them off, because they are random and out of the blue, they're not my usual personality and speak volumes to me that there's still a problem. (No, I'm not cussing.) I went from laughing with him over what I'd just said to tears dripping down my cheek and saying, "I just want to be me again."
Ugh, I'm crying again. Bless his heart, he'd just shared deeply from his heart concerning the state of our nation. Normally, we would have engaged in a conversational exchange, but my only comment was a quiet, "Wow." My poor brain was just too tired to talk. He looked at me and laughed, "Wow? That moves up to the number two spot as some of your quirkiest post stroke comments." The night before I'd stood up in the living room to say I was going to bed. He must not have heard me and a few minutes later, from our bed, I hollered in my good ole country twang, "You comin' in here?" Guess I was just missing him.
Friday morning began with me making my first solo drive, further than the five miles run to the grocery store. As I sat through Bible Study Fellowship, I was quite uncomfortable from one of the monitor line plugs pressing into my rib cage. After two and a half hours, I was miserable and quite fatigued. A noon massage was on the schedule, curtesy of a sweet family member. I looked forward to the hour of relaxation on that table, but when I arrived wearing a heart monitor it was a "NO GO." The masseuse wouldn't touch me without a written order from my physician.
Dragging myself over to the grocery store, to pick up some much needed items. I couldn't even get all the groceries unloaded at home and just crawled into bed. When my husband arrived home from work, I told him I felt terrible. Heading into the bathroom, I decided to remove the painful lead and sticky pad. A gasp came out of my mouth as I looked at the bruised and blood blistered area! No wonder I was in pain. Calling the monitoring center, we were in agreement that lead needed to be moved.
Texting a friend, I exclaimed, "I want my joy back." Knowing that could only come from Jesus, I turned back a few pages in a devotional of Paul David Tripp's where I had highlighted these words:
"There is a difference between a person in whom disappointment leads to reformation and someone in whom grief leads to heartfelt confession. I think that we often confuse the two. The first person believes in personal strength and the possibility of self-rescue, while the second has given up on his own righteousness and cries out for the help of another. One gets up in the morning and tells himself that he'll do better today, but the other starts the day with a plea for grace. One targets a change in behavior, and the other confesses to a wandering heart. One assesses that he has the power for personal change, while the other knows that he needs to be given strength for the battle. One has to hold on to the possibility of personal reformation, but the other has abandoned hope and therefore runs to God for help."
'Nuff said, Today (after I hopefully go back to sleep for a while) I will start my day on my knees and stay plugged into more than this heart monitor! I need the Lord.
"Come, let us sing for joy to the Lord; let us shout around to the Rock of our salvation.
Let us come before him with thanksgiving and extol him with music and song."