What am I waiting around this house for? Healing, so I’m waiting to feel better? Time to pass, so that I can know not to expect any further healing to happen in my body? If I’m just waiting for time to pass, why not get something done, get up off this couch, and make things happen?
Because apparently I’m only supposed to do what I feel I “can” do. What does that mean? There are many things we “can” do that perhaps we ought to consider not doing. A nurse asked me last week, “Can you dress yourself?” CAN I? Well sure, if I’m okay running the risk of breaking my neck, or if I have unlimited time so I can rest for thirty seconds roughly every .05 seconds or so.”
So I’m waiting for exactly what again? Until I think I “can” go back to work? Can I? Well sure I can, only my stroll to the office will now take about five times longer and by the time I get there, if it’s not already lunch time, I’ll need to take a 1/2 hour to regroup and catch my breath. Can I write sermons? Sure, I’m writing this blog post. Can I stand and deliver on Sunday? No, but I can sit and deliver. So I’m waiting for what?
For feeling to return in my feet? How long do I wait? When do I try to drive again? When do I, for the sake of moving on with my life, just consider it a closed question whether or not I will get better, and focus entirely on what I can do now? That sounds good. Except based on that standard, right now I can do very close to literally nothing. I mean, I can actually do a LOT of things, but what I cannot do is that great combination of things that, taken and strung together, is called normal life.
I do not know what I am waiting for. Since I do not know what I am waiting for, I think perhaps I may not know how to greet it when it arrives. Or let go of it when it fails to materialize. So I go back to the mundane and simply decide to wait for Tuesday. Tuesday I go back to PT. There are people there in white coats who have healing hearts and hands, and may have some of the answers I crave. At the least, as happened in the hospital, maybe their compassion will itself be healing. Maybe in addition to helping me re-learn how to put one foot in front of the other, they can also help me take another step into this huge canyon that, at the moment, seems to stretch out endlessly before me — a place called godknowswhat.