swimming in it

i'm in a mood. it's a snow day. just like a snow day to come on the day of the month that i had planned to work early, work hard and work long. instead i'm home, listening to music, thinking thoughts that make my eyes swim until the emotions spill down my cheeks. i'm fine. i'm just full of feelings. 

the set-back--that's what evelyn said when she saw me at church with boot and scooter, "have you had a set-back?" --has hit me hard. i want to be ok about it but i'm not. i'm a hot mess about it. it happened on the 15th. that was the day of my unit retreat. an important day for me. a day that rested solely on my shoulders. a unit retreat is not a spa day get away. i know you were thinking that. it is a day that the whole unit packs up and leaves the clubhouse. we go somewhere else. for us, it was a rented room at city hall, which is across the street from us. then we spend half a day talking about our work. we celebrate, we brainstorm, we share ideas. i was leading the retreat. i was facilitating. an instigator, as fatima would say.

i was up early. since my last set-back in september i've been sleeping every night in my sleep splint a la dr. andi's recommendation. to keep things stretched out. when i woke up i felt a throb on the bottom of my foot in the upper right portion. that's strange, i thought. maybe the splint is too tight, i thought. i didn't think too much about it. i got up, got ready, donned the full red velour track suit. i thought it was appropriate and i forgot to wear it the day before on valentines, which also would have been appropriate. i got to work and started using my new fat colourful sharpies to write on my flip chart. foot bottom was a little sore, but nothing noteworthy.

but then. just as everyone had arrived and all the things were gathered and we were heading out the door, i took a step and knew. set-back. the pain, the spot. dejavu. what could i do? i was the last one in the room. everyone had gone out the door. so i put it away until after the unit retreat. limped to my car. limped into city hall. set up, facilitated our retreat. and it went great. the retreat was awesome. the whole time in that back compartment alarms were going. dread, fear, worry. but the lid was on tight and the cries were muffled. no one even knew anything was wrong with me. i got people to take turns writing on the flip chart so i didn't have to stand that much and that was a better choice anyways. no one really noticed how hard i was limping or how slowly i was walking on the way out. well. hope did. 

i don't know if it is really something to be proud about to be able to so easily and fully shut something major away like that and to go on like everything is ok. but it's my gift and my curse. the way i handle things. once we got back to pathways i spent the day stunned, in my chair, trying not to cry. i called dr. andi's office. called dr. howie about the electric charges of pain i was getting in my other foot for about a week.. i held it together until it was time to go home. my foot was in a bad way. walking from the chair to my car was so so painful. i had to stop halfway there.

when i got home, i let myself cry. sunk into sadness. i prayed. i felt Heavenly Father say to me "laura be patient in your suffering. submit cheerfully. like the people of alma." ok, i said, through my tears. ok.  i will. and i cried so hard. mom brought me some chinese food. i was laying in bed, in the dark, fetal position watching tik toks.  and since that day, i've been trying so hard to be ok. to be patient. to submit cheerfully. i do the things i can do. i wear the boot. off, on. pump, deflate, strap, clomp. i bundle up and drive the scooter in the weathers. but i feel dull and joyless inside. i don't think this is cheerful submitting. but i don't know how to feel better. i know in my mind that this is not the worst thing ever. i know it isn't a huge calamity. but for some reason, it is so. hard. i believe somehow this will all work out. just right now i'm so sad about it. i prayed the prayer that i learned from the father in the new testament. a prayer i've always felt is so real. "Lord, i believe, help thou my unbelief." desperate. so so human. 

i've been putting off writing about it. but today i have the time and i think writing about it is better than not. well now that i've exposed all my vulnerable parts i want you to know that i have good times too. one thing i've learned is that it is very possible to feel opposite emotions at the same time. but this little compartment full of this sadness hasn't had enough expression and the truth of that was seeping out my eyes this morning. so. expressed. check. 

if i get my period tomorrow it will surprise no one.