I’m a band-aid ripper. I can’t stand the idea of picking steadily away at the edges of the adhesive, feeling separately the prickly pains of each individual nerve-ending. I like to get a good grip and let it rip. Are you a ripper or a pick-and-peeler?
I’m a deep-end diver. If I try and ease myself slowly into the pool one inch of warm flesh at a time, it takes me half the day to get wet. I just kind of dip around, try not to squeal like a seventh grade girl, and end up backing away. I’d rather just take a run at it and plunge in all at once. Are you a plunger or a toe-and-squealer?
I had my girls without an epidural mostly because people kept telling me an epidural makes it all take longer. I don’t even know if it’s true. (Please do not comment on this, at this point I do not want to know if it is true.)
If there are hard times ahead, I want to get on with it, get through it, get back to the happy stuff. Nothing day-after-daily, please. Hit me hard, then leave me alone.
We’ve been sick around here for a long time. Three weeks ago it was Alex and I. We had flu or food poisoning or something for four days. We spent the weekend trading off staggering around after the kids. The day we started to feel better, Norah got sick with a bad cold. She was sick all week. The day she started to feel better, it was me again. Some sort of virus–fever, chills, nausea, horrid cough, the works. I spent most of last week more sick than I’ve been in years. Then Norah again, the same thing I had, we think, only more serious. We’ve had several anxious nights, some crazy high fevers, I’ll spare you the rest of the gory details. And now Harriet. A chest infection, a fever. At three months old. I’m bouncing around between them, carrying exhaustion and worry.
It’s not serious, we hope, and surely we must soon be better. But it’s made me think about people with chronic pain. That’s such a very heavy one. Who do we know who carries that? We’re sick for a few weeks and my small reserves of strength and patience are draining. I’m wrestling to find my durable joy. But there are those who find it daily, in worse circumstances than mine. (Like you, Micki.) That’s a daily wonder. Each day walking in the grace God gives to face it. I’m encouraged tonight thinking about you.