Through all of the pain, agony and suffering, there was good. I learned to understand what my body, mind and spirit was going through. It was a harsh reality. Everyday felt like a nightmare that I could not wake up from. never once did I pity myself or ask God why.
The questions I did ask God was, what am I to learn from this? Where am I to go after this? How will I conquer this? What is your plan for me?
The most frustrating part of this whole process was that God was the only one I could seek to mend me emotionally physically and spiritually, because my doctors gave me no counsel on what to expect and how to endure this process. My mother and I spent a lot of time online and asking others to learn about the burns and different ways to bandage and re-bandage, bathe, cover myself, keep my body temperature regulated, deal with my anxiety, stress and desires for human interaction and to be outside of the sterile room.
Learning to deal with not being able to bathe myself or use the restroom on my own were two of the most humbling moments through this process. I was 23 and had no privacy and yet too much privacy. The other humbling factor was that "life does not stop for you." I had no one to talk to about what I was going through that could relate. I wanted so badly to be back to my normal self and be able to talk to my friends about more than how I was doing. I did not want pity. I wasn't even sad for myself at the time. Now, that I reflect on that time, I am very sad for me. I realized during this time that most of my friends and family were superficial. I learned that most people that I called friend were only a friend to those that they could hang out with, and who were not an inconvenience to their schedules and status.
On top of everything I had never in my life felt ugly, until now. I never thought I was the prettiest girl in town, but now I could not look at myself in the mirror. I looked like a nightmare. I had holes and dots all over my face from the surgical procedures. My face was as red as a beat. I couldn't do anything for myself, even type, change channels, walk or eat. I felt disastrous. Yet my parents, siblings and boyfriend were more encouraging that ever. My few true friends still told me how beautiful I was. Ans through God's grace I still knew that my beauty on the inside prevailed. My positive outlook on my healing and progress radiated beauty. Through all of the bandages and handicaps I was gorgeous!
The good that came from abandonment, pain, suffering and questioning was my relationship with God. I drew nearer to him, my mom, stepdad, brothers, sister and my boyfriend (who is now my husband) like never before. God and Family is all one needs in life. With God and Family you can find all of the love and comfort one could possibly desire.
Psalm 23:1-6 "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.
This blog is about my experience with 3rd degree burns from a grease fire as a result of not being able to locate a fire extinguisher. As I take you through my story, please know that I am writing, not for myself, but for those who may find themselves in the same situation. If you know anyone who is going through a similar situation, or in the future if someone you know, is burned please refer them to this blog so that they may avoid, and/or be prepared for some of the obstacles to come.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Monday, February 20, 2012
#6 Loneliness
It has been a while since I posted, life just keeps surprising me...
Post #6 is going to leave the hospital scene and talk about recovery.
After being dismissed from the hospital which took 2 days, and 2 allergic reactions to different nurses giving me Loratab (the first nurse who discovered this apparently did not tell the nurse who came on shift after her about my allergy and her previous experience). I was not happy about leaving Brandon in Birmingham, who had just moved up to be with me 2 weeks prior, or my puppy, Sasha. But I did what was best for me and went home with my mom to be taken care of. My mother and I have never communicated well and the fact that I was about to become the greatest inconvenience she had known yet was a dreadful thought.
I had to be at home for a month recovery. I could not use my hands or arms, which impaired me to go to the restroom alone, feed myself, or even flip channels. I could use my fingers so about half-way through I began working from home to exercise my fingers and wrist. Throughout this time, I was praying for peace, healing and patience. In the 4 weeks that I was at home I can count on one hand the family members and friends that came see me. I can count on one hand the people that called. I cannot count on two hands the people that I called and told that I was home and asked them to come see me. Out of those I called 2 came to see me. Five called to check on me whenever they has a second. Any many never called back. Friends and Family, you learn really quick who the ones are that care or are willing to put someone else before themselves. I longed for certain friends and family to come and they never did. I was not asking for pity from anyone, just a few minutes of their time to see a friendly face. I remember crying and begging my mom to let me go to WalMart. For those of you who dont know me, I strongly dislike WalMart and find it pretty nasty, I also am a very active person that thrives on being outdoors. While healing, my number one priority is sanitation as an infection could cause a MAJOR set back. I was willing to risk my health to see the likeness of another person besides my mom and stepdad. Of course, my mom was not, so there I sat for 3 weeks bound to a recliner, the bath, and the bed, INSIDE, with only Brandon, my boyfriend, (and in my absence since last post is now my fiance!) visiting on the weekends.
My stepdad at this time had been married to my mother for a year. He was a vital part of my recovery. He took me in as if he had been there my whole life, he fed me, let me walk around in my boy-shorts, took my to the bathroom (humbling moment), came home at lunch everyday, and sat with me, when no one else would.
When you are down, there is only once place to look, to God. This time in my life is the darkest place I have ever been in. I, for the most part, am pretty hard to bring down, but during this 4 wk period and even now, I have to stay VERY close to God in order to keep the devil out, because these feelings, this restraint, this loneliness will bring you down.
I actually had, not just someone, but an admired and respectful leader in my "home" church tell me that God only gives you so many chances before he gives you a reality check. My mentor had told me that God allowed this to happen to me because he feared I was straying from the Lord's path in my life. That, my friends, rocked my world. I cried for days and still have not forgotten those words that so deeply pierced my heart. This man that I had looked up to in church as the father of my church family and a mentor of my spiritual health spit on me, while I was down. He never even came to see me. In times of pain, you remember the most of others.
Today, I live my life by always doing my very best to be there when it counts.
Post #6 is going to leave the hospital scene and talk about recovery.
After being dismissed from the hospital which took 2 days, and 2 allergic reactions to different nurses giving me Loratab (the first nurse who discovered this apparently did not tell the nurse who came on shift after her about my allergy and her previous experience). I was not happy about leaving Brandon in Birmingham, who had just moved up to be with me 2 weeks prior, or my puppy, Sasha. But I did what was best for me and went home with my mom to be taken care of. My mother and I have never communicated well and the fact that I was about to become the greatest inconvenience she had known yet was a dreadful thought.
I had to be at home for a month recovery. I could not use my hands or arms, which impaired me to go to the restroom alone, feed myself, or even flip channels. I could use my fingers so about half-way through I began working from home to exercise my fingers and wrist. Throughout this time, I was praying for peace, healing and patience. In the 4 weeks that I was at home I can count on one hand the family members and friends that came see me. I can count on one hand the people that called. I cannot count on two hands the people that I called and told that I was home and asked them to come see me. Out of those I called 2 came to see me. Five called to check on me whenever they has a second. Any many never called back. Friends and Family, you learn really quick who the ones are that care or are willing to put someone else before themselves. I longed for certain friends and family to come and they never did. I was not asking for pity from anyone, just a few minutes of their time to see a friendly face. I remember crying and begging my mom to let me go to WalMart. For those of you who dont know me, I strongly dislike WalMart and find it pretty nasty, I also am a very active person that thrives on being outdoors. While healing, my number one priority is sanitation as an infection could cause a MAJOR set back. I was willing to risk my health to see the likeness of another person besides my mom and stepdad. Of course, my mom was not, so there I sat for 3 weeks bound to a recliner, the bath, and the bed, INSIDE, with only Brandon, my boyfriend, (and in my absence since last post is now my fiance!) visiting on the weekends.
My stepdad at this time had been married to my mother for a year. He was a vital part of my recovery. He took me in as if he had been there my whole life, he fed me, let me walk around in my boy-shorts, took my to the bathroom (humbling moment), came home at lunch everyday, and sat with me, when no one else would.
When you are down, there is only once place to look, to God. This time in my life is the darkest place I have ever been in. I, for the most part, am pretty hard to bring down, but during this 4 wk period and even now, I have to stay VERY close to God in order to keep the devil out, because these feelings, this restraint, this loneliness will bring you down.
I actually had, not just someone, but an admired and respectful leader in my "home" church tell me that God only gives you so many chances before he gives you a reality check. My mentor had told me that God allowed this to happen to me because he feared I was straying from the Lord's path in my life. That, my friends, rocked my world. I cried for days and still have not forgotten those words that so deeply pierced my heart. This man that I had looked up to in church as the father of my church family and a mentor of my spiritual health spit on me, while I was down. He never even came to see me. In times of pain, you remember the most of others.
Today, I live my life by always doing my very best to be there when it counts.
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