Sitting in the airport in Raleigh, about to die because my pants hurt my car wreck baby and in about an hour I'll be flying through Newark and back to Europe. Lots of new things to come.
I've been wondering for nearly three weeks now, will I write here about all the craziness? I can't not, but if so, how?
The short version is that, though I've always been really healthy, I had a mess of a month in and out of the doctor. And the most serious things were because of a car accident. The Colombiana and I have always joked that we were going to die together in wreck. Probably in a bus. Happy to say that we're still alive although the Might Mazda is squashed. (Ew, dramatic, I know--how do you write about this without being dramatic or tacky?) In the end, two days before leaving town, less than a week before flying out, one doctor thought I'd need surgery. The rest said I didn't, and in the meantime--the six months to a year kind of meantime--I'm hanging out in the airport wanting to unbutton my pants because I'll be deformed for a while.
There are so many ways to be wry about this, to shake my head and say something out of the corner of my mouth, laugh about the absurdity. I swelled up so much from the seat belt injuries that I looked about four months pregnant, was forced to sit and stand like I was. And once the swelling went down, I looked like I'd had a c-section. And now I get to fly across the Atlantic with my pants unbuttoned, and we all know how much I hate wearing pants. It's like a dream, sort of.
And then the more serious things come back to that verse, that Psalm: "I lie down and sleep; I wake again because the LORD sustains me." As well as I take care of my body, it's still not me who's keeping it all working together, breathing and beating and all that. I remember lying in the hospital bed thinking about how my body was not only doing a bunch of things to heal itself I wasn't conscious of, but that I didn't even know what they were. There's something in there too about control. Again, I can take care of my body as well as I can, but I can't control whether tomorrow it will all just quit.
So it's a reminder that, no, that's not true, not exactly. Well, it is, but God is still in control. Control is not lost, even if I never had it. And he sustains us in every single way.
We're reaching the ultimate in navel-gazing: a post processing about how I'm going to proceed with processing. We'll see. So: thankful. And wanting to have fun with it too, winking wryly, bright-siding. So maybe there'll be a here's-what-happened post. Or maybe just a bunch of fun-making. Thanks for bearing with me while I figure it all out. Thanks, friends.
Anyway, we're boarding now.