I apologize for not keeping this as updated as some of you may have wished. I go back to my Neurologist tomorrow (er, today) for an EMG and to discuss what life looks like from here on out. I have a few good updates: 1) I’m walking with a cane. That wheelchair is gone, and God is to be praised! 2) My blood tests came back negative, meaning I actually do have Bilateral Saphenous Nerve Impingement, and God is to be praised! 3) Pain is no longer constant. I experience maybe a wave of pain about once a day, and God is to be praised!
Unfortunately, due to the physical deterioration of my left leg, I have been unable to focus on my emotional or spiritual health, of which have sparked monologues that so frequented this blog in its “early” life. I apologize for that, both to myself and to those who read this site. In light of this lack of reflection, I have decided to waste space by rambling. Beware! Rabbit-trails up ahead:
Just prior to writing this post, I read (er, stalked) a post from a xanga site I try to keep up on. It was about a lost love and the fight to “get her back.” I chuckled a little when I read this line:
WAIT! How can love wait? … Yet, I welcome this slavery [to waiting for her].
OK. Allow me to explain. It was by mere chance that I witnessed this blogger’s breakup. I was literally on the other side of the street honestly minding my own business when I realized what the devil was actually going on across the way. I knew this person was a writer, so I found his weblog (hence the “er, stalked”) and, voilà, here we are. What’s more ironic is that our connection has a closer proximity than the typical six degrees of separation. Yada-yada-yada, I digress. Do we really wait? Does true, honest-to-goodness, can’t-sleep-at-night-but-welcome-the-insomnia love drive us to wait? Or is love a drug that creates in us a hope that isn’t healthy to which to hold on?
Back in the day (which was a Wednesday), I wrote that “memories last only as long as you want them to. You can erase the bad ones. The question is, do you really want to? What would your life be like without even the worst of times?” If one hasn’t noticed, I value the storms that life throws at us. What is there to look forward to if every day’s yesterday was perfect in memory?
I value words. I know that actions speak louder than words, but words have their place. They exist. Words and language must be a valuable tool if God Himself saw that the best way to prohibit the building of Babel was to confuse the words of those building that tower. (Please note, God didn’t go to the drawing boards and guess which way would be best. I don’t mean to infer that by using the word, “saw.” God knew. God foreknew. Period.) I guess that’s why I value this quote from The Interpreter:
The gunfire around us makes it hard to hear. But the human voice is different from other sounds. It can be heard over noises that bury everything else. Even when it’s not shouting. Even when it’s just a whisper. Even the lowest whisper can be heard over armies… when it’s telling the truth.
It’s 2:40A and I just needed to talk. I’m sorry for wasting your time. One of these three thoughts (love, memory, or words) will be expounded upon soon. The two others may be lost in this waste of space forever, or I may jump on them as well. Just know I haven’t forgotten this site. I just haven’t had time to sit down and funnel out a coherent thought. Case-in-point: the aforementioned.
