Ocean Breezes and Beach Sand

January 2007
The waves raced up to meet me. The water, although warm for January, sent a shiver through my toes and I felt myself giggle. I needed this, the warm sun, the cold water, the air thick with salt and humidity. I haven’t felt beach sand and salt water on my feet for over two years. As I turned to walk down the shoreline, I could feel my soul begin to heal and my body return to wholeness.

October 2004
Fall is my absolute favorite season. I love the arrival of cool air and turning leaves, fairs and festivals, and Thanksgiving. This year I was working hard, too hard. For several years I had worked as a personal chef and caterer. I also conducted Southern Living at Home parties. I usually prepared two meals a week at church for around three hundred and fifty people. This year I was also taking extra jobs on weekends. Around the second week of October, I woke up with a funny feeling in my right hip. Recently I had been experiencing a lot of nighttime sensations in my legs (I thought I had restless leg syndrome). I went on with my scheduled shopping trip for the week’s meals: several hours in two mega stores followed by sorting and organizing the food in the commercial kitchen. The next two days I spent my usual eight hours standing in the kitchen and my hip was beginning to hurt. I went to my general practitioner and began the dance toward diagnosis: X-rays, MRI, blood tests, etc. I kept on working, cooking and trying to do my home parties, in the meantime, both legs had begun to hurt. The MRI showed some compression in my lower vertebrae. My doctor thought I had a herniated disk and referred me to a neurosurgeon. I thought if needed I could possibly have surgery in January when everything slowed down. It was now the middle of November and I was busy planning for the annual Thanksgiving Feast at our preschool for 450 preschoolers, parents, grandparents, and teachers.

On Monday, November 14th, I had spent the afternoon baking fresh apple cakes for the Wednesday night supper. My husband asked me to assist in Upward Basketball evaluations that evening at our church gym and when we were in the parking lot, I stepped off the curb, my leg gave way, and I broke my ankle, beginning a two year period of surgeries and therapy.

After five weeks in a cast I graduated to a walking boot. I was able to use a walker to make short trips to the bathroom or living room, but my lack of mobility kept me housebound except for doctor’s appointments. In early January I should have been foot racing, but instead my legs were growing weaker and I was unable to get in and out of my bed without assistance. My visit to neurologist had been delayed due to my injury, but I was finally sent for another MRI. This MRI showed a meningioma on my spinal cord. This tumor was causing the numbing sensations in my hips and legs and had ultimately caused my fall. I needed surgery immediately.

No one prepared me for the after effects of spinal cord surgery. My doctor merely stated that the recovery time would be lengthy. I didn’t know that I would not be able to feel my legs, control my bodily functions, or even pull myself up in the bed. I spent five weeks in the hospital and rehabilitation center and weeks in outpatient therapy.

By the time I was able to return to church in my wheelchair, four months had passed. Eventually I was able to leave the wheelchair for a cane and then walk unassisted. However, this freedom was brief, as I started to feel some familiar sensations in November of 2005. An MRI revealed that the tumor had returned. This time I was referred to Duke University Medical Center and the diagnosis was frightening. Another surgery could not guarantee complete recovery and mobility, but without the attempted removal of the tumor, I would not walk. Although there were a few scary moments the surgery was a success. I spent three weeks at Duke and then three weeks in rehab. As a precaution, I was given radiation treatments. That year, we put five thousand miles on our car traveling between Fayetteville and Durham. During these two years, I had four surgeries, twenty-nine radiation treatments, and weekly physical therapy. My MRI in November 2006 showed no tumor even though my neurosurgeon left a remnant, it was undetectable on the image. Finally, I had regained my life.

At first, I was angry at God. My friends had moved on without me, their lives a busy flurry, my life, quiet, spent mostly at home or some medical clinic. My catering business and my consulting business were gone. I could no longer meet the physical demands of cooking in a commercial kitchen for hundreds of people. We were strained financially due to the thousands of dollars in deductibles, unreimbursed procedures, traveling expenses, and my loss of income. Even my hardwood floors were ruined by my wheelchair and walker. I prayed daily that God would restore everything that was taken from me.

As I continued to struggle with my losses, God began to change me. I began to see that His plan for my life was not restoration, but rather transformation. I couldn’t work, but I could reprioritize my spending habits, I mean, how much Polish pottery do I need to be happy? I had been busy working for God’s kingdom, but in the process, I had neglected the one thing He wants us to put first and that is our relationship with Him. My physical weakness forced me to slow down, allow others to minister to me, and to focus on that inseparable bond to Christ. God had enabled us to meet every financial need, although, I don’t know how. My hardwood floors can be refinished, but until then, the scratches remind me how far I have progressed.

Through my ordeal, I have learned that storms will come and how we weather them makes us who we are. Yes, I have many scars, metal rods and pins in my spine and ankle, and nerve damage in my back, but I can walk, a guarantee I was not promised. With each “clean” MRI, I am reminded to be thankful, not just during the season of thanksgiving, but every day.