On Giving Up

This past week has been typical in my life, in that there were lots of ups and downs.  Health wise, I’ve seen some minor improvements, some set backs, and a lot more physical pain.  I don’t really care to get into great detail. I’m not really in the mood to talk about the details with anyone.

But I just want to say that if you are facing difficult times, you shouldn’t let anyone drag you down.  Especially not a doctor, who is supposed to be there to help you.  If you have no other medical options, then you may have to tolerate the person to the best of your ability. But try your best not to let them stress you out or make you feel defeated.

This past week I said to a doctor, “I just want to get better.”   To which she replied…

by LAUGHING IN MY FACE.

That’s right.  She laughed in my face as if the idea of me thinking I might possibly get better, was so stupid as to be amusing.

After this lovely and oh-so-enjoyable appointment, I got into the car with my husband kinda shell-shocked, and came home.  I bitched a little, I had a bit of a cry, and then I moved on.

Because I have three little people who count on me.  And parents that don’t deserve to have to bury another child. Those are the things that keep me going on my darkest days.  And I am not going down without a fight – no matter what some doctor says.

I am not in denial.  It would be really hard to be in denial, given my symptoms and the things that I face every single day.  But that doesn’t mean I should pretend there is no hope.  Even if everything they are saying is 100% true, it is not totally hopeless.

The idea of my children growing up without me, terrifies me.  I pray every day that does not happen.  But if it ever does, I want them to be able to say, “My mother loved us enough to fight every single day.  My mother never gave up on being with us for as long as possible.

I don’t have control over as many things as I would like these days.  But I do have control over that.

The way I see things, God made me hard-headed and stubborn for good reasons. It’s gotten me through many things in life, and it continues to aid me to this day.

I will not accept defeat.  And if I do loose, I will go down swinging.

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The Beechnut

According to the Department of Natural Resources:
As the beechnut or American beech tree gets ready for winter, its leaves turn a brownish russet color and the three-sided nuts it produces are borne in prickly burs.
Because the nut is small and covered with a thin, leathery shell, sometimes people don’t take the effort to harvest it. However, they do have a delicate, rich flavor.

Most days I handle being disabled pretty well.  I am good at keeping a positive outlook and realizing just how blessed I am to be alive.  I have the ability to see the blessings in my life and not simply the struggles.

My faith gives me strength.

But there are some days, when it is harder to be the optimist.  Some days I feel like this beechnut I photographed.

Full of potential,
yet held back so much by the prickly confines of my disability.

I watch the world go by,
just like the water whirling past this beechnut.

I see all of the things I want to be doing,
and I watch them float by.

It brings a moment of sadness,
then guilt for the sadness.
I have much to be thankful for.

Perhaps someday I will be released,
and be able to meld my life experiences in a way where I can enjoy the things of my past – yet hold on to the appreciation that I have for those things now.

The beechnut either rots in its prickly shell,
or it makes it out and can go on to live so much more.
Some even become a tree.
Some grow tall and strong.
Some make more beechnuts.

Then it hit me,
perhaps I’m already a tree and I just don’t realize it.

~ ~ ~