Hints of Healing

About this time of year, you get hints… a little chill in the morning air, the sound of the wind as it rustles through the leaves, or the sun setting just a little earlier than it did yesterday. You only get little hints right now, but in just a few short weeks, Fall will be here in full, and we will be wearing sweaters in the evening, raking piles of leaves and bobbing for apples.

Just as Mother Nature teases us with the arrival of the seasons, I got a small hint of healing about a week ago. Last Tuesday night, I sat at the table watching the kids work on homework and Jennifer get supper ready. For about twenty or thirty minutes, I felt a little different than I had the previous few weeks. I felt stronger, more alert, and acutely aware of a change. It was brief yet curious, and most welcome. I noted it, but the feeling was gone just as quickly as it came on. It was only the next morning after I slept almost the entire night and awoke feeling rested and completely different that I realized the feeling from the previous night was a hint and a tease of what was to come.

Last Wednesday was three weeks since the bypass surgery, and whether that anniversary marked the unlocking of some physical medical mystery or it held some mental obstacle for me, I began the day feeling better and able to see with confidence and end to this long journey. This bypass surgery has been unlike anything I have ever experienced. I am no stranger to hospitals and operating rooms, but this recovery has been the most difficult thing that I have ever experienced or endured. In all phases of recovery, physical, mental, and emotional, it’s been a trial and challenge at every turn, and to use the words of my Nurse Practitioner after listening to me question and complain, “Brian… there’s no other way to describe it. The first two weeks are hell.”

Tomorrow is my four-week anniversary, and I am well on my way, but not there quite yet. So many of you have called, come by, sent a text, or mailed a card, encouraging me and checking in along the way, and I appreciate it so much. When you ask how I am doing, my response has been a somewhat labored, “I’m getting there…” and that’s been about as accurate as I can be. Each day I feel a little better than I did yesterday, but not by much. Recovery has taken much longer than I ever expected, and I have had to change my expectations which has been tremendously frustrating, but “I’m getting there.”

We had planned a trip to the mountains for Labor Day some weeks back as a reward for making it through the kidney transplant. Those plans were in serious jeopardy following the bypass surgery, but waking up on Wednesday, the trip became a possibility, and I am so glad to tell you that we made it to North Carolina for the weekend. It wasn’t our usual trip filled with hiking, swimming, and great adventure, but it was certainly a salve for our Mental Health just to get out of the house for a few days. I tolerated the travel quite well, even if Atlanta didn’t fully cooperate!

We are mobile now, but still joined at the hip. I’m not quite ready to drive, so in addition to Mommy, Wife, Nurse, Caregiver, Housekeeper, and chief Hand-Holder, Jennifer also slips on the Chauffeur Cap from time to time. If you see us out, give us a hug. If you happen to ask how I am doing, I will respond with a much more confident and cheery, “I’m Getting There!”