Frustrating little thing called patience

Today this happened:

My first thought: it bloody well better...

(Clearly I am still learning about the concept of patience...)

Then I got into bed, ready to write this blog post, moved about a millimetre to adjust my pillow and BAM! Excruciating pain.  A pain I have come to identify as scar tissue breaking up. So................. just more tissue ripping apart inside my body again......... followed by the initial, and futile, lip-biting attempts to quash the reaction to the increasing pain.... groaning and sweating; quickly joined by the realisation the burning in my eyes and cheeks are hot tears; then the realisation I'm holding my breath because breathing hurts too much............ knowing certain positions are (moderately) helpful, I painfully ease myself into the weight-off-the-scapula-arm-compressing-pillow-hug that offers the most relief while I wait out the worst of the pain until I can move again.  Luckily I had just taken my bedtime dose of tablets (although I don't think they're working very well) and I thought it didn't take too long this time, but as I look at the clock on my computer while I type this (with only my left hand; my right arm is following the now-well-defined pattern and has gone numb) I realise that all took about an hour. 

 It's not really a good thing that I have come to accept this as 'normal' - "are you sweating?" my new (and also old, just 'new right now') flatmate asked me with a little ring of panic in her voice, during one of these pain episodes.... "doctor? hospital?.... what can I do?... tea??"  (Yes, V, if you're reading this, you're awesome.  And if you're not, now I'll know because you won't let that compliment pass unnoticed ;-).  Seriously though, she is a fantastic friend.  And has realised that tea is pretty much the solution to everything - I guess a good inspiration for my January blog in many ways!) So - yes please, the logical choice - tea (and ice/heat and muscle relaxants) as I attempt to assure her this is ok; this is 'normal'.  Her face usually says "well here's the tea, but I don't believe you."

She's probably right.

But right now?? Now that I'm repositioned, wrapped in my heated blanket and able to breathe again...?? Now?! Now I'm thinking: patience??! Seriously!? Either I really needed a reminder (which I can assure you, I didn't; 'normal' pain is enough of a daily - hourly, minute-ly reminder -  this is going nowhere fast, and patience, although not my strong point, is a necessity); or perhaps the universe has some sick sense of humour.  Actually, I wonder if someone somewhere has a voodoo doll of me........

Here I was, all ready to write about journeys and individuality and how annoying cliches such as 'Patience pays' and 'time heals' really are true... Even if we all hate them when someone says them to us (yet have probably also said them to others) - because the irritating thing about cliches is they are cliches for a reason.  A little writing, a few inspirational pictures I found on Pinterest (where else?!) and that was my blog-plan.  I should have been done, dusted and asleep by now (or at the very least, battling my insomnia...).  Instead I'm wishing I was in Colorado right now and could see if some newly allowed self-medication was any good for this pain....

Since I'm not in Colorado, I guess I'll resort back to the philosophical inspirations...

Realistically, being really pedantic, your world can fall apart in a day, or in an instant; I think it takes more than ten times as long... but we all do it - all the time, in our own ways.  So I think the point is we can put ourselves back together - with time, and some patience; and all in our own time.  

...............

  

 For me, those kind of sentiments are why some well-intended words, such as 'patience pays' - can feel both inspirational, calming, and frustrating all at the same time.  We are all on our own journeys, dealing with our own struggles, some are little obstacle that just get in the way; others create journeys that make daily life seem like an infinite Tough Mudder challenge. 


So it's always good to remind yourself of the little steps you have taken:

And, perhaps most importantly, never compare your story to someone else's.

“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”

    ~ Oscar Wilde