Had my last official visit with the surgeon yesterday. I am good to go! Very thankful for the relief my spinal stimulator has brought me, and for all of the answered prayers.
On my way into the hospital where the surgeon's office is located, a very large man was sitting on a bench by the door. He was yelling greetings to everyone. People ignored him and went on their way.
As I was waiting for the elevator, he came in the lobby. He yelled at no one in particular, "I can't wait til they take those ribs outta my freezer on Sunday!" I smiled at him as the three other folks there looked at their feet ("Don't make eye contact. Don't make eye contact!")
He looked at me and said, "You eat ribs??" Yes, I replied.
"Well, I got 18 lbs of ribs in my freezer. We gonna cook 'em up Sunday!"
"That sounds like a feast! I hope you enjoy!"
And then I got on the elevator. One lady on board mumbled something about he must be "craz…
Most Catholics who take their faith seriously (and even some who don't) have a plan for Lent. We know what we're giving up. We throw our spare change in the Rice Bowl. We have a book or two we plan to read, or maybe delve into Scripture more regularly.
Then, we find ourselves in the middle of Lent, completely off-track. Our GPS broke. Our map was wrong. We're lost.
What to do?
First, I'm not talking about tragedy. Someone dies, or you lose your job or some other horrible and completely up-ending event occurs. No, this is just ... a wrong turn. How can you get back on track?
1. Pray. Without a doubt, prayer is always the best place to start. Go to Jesus and rest in His love for you. Ask that He guide you back to where you need to be. Enlist the help of a patron saint as well - they love to pray for us!
2. Fast. Yes, I know we only have to truly fast on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. (By the way, I am the world's worst WORST worst faster. I get completely obsessed …
I've mentioned here before that I have given up trying to make any Lenten plans. God simply chuckles and then throws whatever He wants at me.
My surgery was successful, but there's a glitch. Apparently my little apparatus does not prevent or help with muscle spasms, an issue I've dealt with since I was about 14. Now, when I say "muscle spasm," do not think "charley horse" or "cramp." No, think: woman lying on bathroom floor screaming. Once in awhile I can work through them on my own, but usually they require a trip to the ER.
I've have 4 of these episodes since my surgery. My nurse thinks that the surgery probably aggravated some stuff, and my muscles will settle down in a few weeks. I can only say: I fervently hope so.
I've had an ear infection for about 10 days. Two antibiotics and every home remedy under the sun.
I continue to struggle with apartment life. Don't get me wrong - I REALLY like our apartment. It's quiet, the ne…
I was thinking about Ashley Judd's little rant, A Nasty Woman. It makes me sad, frankly, that this rather gross, base description of "femininity" was so highly praised. What a lost opportunity to truly celebrate what St. John Paul II referred to as the feminine genius.
Anyhow, I took the liberty of re-working the Nasty Woman piece. (By the way, that piece was written not by Judd, who performed it. It was written by 19 year old Nina Donovan.)
A Blessed Woman
I am a blessed woman. I'm not as blessed as the woman who knelt beside an animal's food trough in a cave to peer at the face of God. A baby who held the entire Universe is his tiny hand. A woman who transformed the world with one word: "Yes."
Not as blessed as that wrinkled little woman in India who saved kids. That woman who shamed a president and his wife for promoting abortion. That woman who likened children t…