Today, I awoke with "visible" symptoms.
I have been complacent lately, feeling fairly well all in all, and I don't recall performing my "daily inventory" like I usually had done each morning. You know..."did I hear my alarm? Ears. Check. Did I see the clock? Eyes. Check. Did my legs swing to the side of the bed, touch the floor, and carry me to the bathroom? Legs. Check." Yeah, that. I haven't done it in awhile. So this morning threw me for a bit of a loop.
I heard my alarm and popped up out of bed to silence it with a flailing maneuver that Mary Lou Retton would've envied, had I stuck the landing. Her record stands, however, because I immediately fell...into the wall. Since I was only about one quarter of the way awake, I wasn't really putting the reality together. As I gathered myself, wondering what just happened, I stood up and...thud. Nice. I found it hard to stand on my shaky right leg. Never fear, I told myself...I've got two legs for a reason...let's just count on the left one to get us through the day! I limped down the stairs to start the glory that is coffee making.
I grabbed the coffee pot handle with my right hand, flicked the tap upward with my left, briskly moved the pot under the running water to...whoopsie! SLAMMED the glass pot into the faucet! Praise the Lord it didn't break, but it certainly got my attention and woke the basset hound, who methodically situates himself in front of the stove with the hopes of catching any dropped breakfast. I sat the pot down and noticed my right hand shaking like a leaf. Before I left my home, I had dropped nearly everything I picked up (keys, purse, lunch bag, water bottle, sunglasses...and then I gave up). It was to the point where my daughter asked if I was alright. Okay, so it's going to be a weak/shaky Monday. But I was confident I could pull it off without it being too noticeable to others. Nope.
I nearly leveled an innocent woman who was merely attempting to check out of her doctor's appointment. Dear right leg, thanks kindly for letting me down at just the right time. Now there's a woman walking around town with an undeserved upper arm bruise. If I counted the times I've had to apologize over the course of the last 7 days, then factored that number, it would require exponents.
This would probably get to me a little, had I not been blessed to spend time with a dear friend yesterday. She's struggling. A lot. But you know what she said? "I can see God working through it" and "if you don't go through times like these, you'd miss out on what God will do in your life".
So I've got a couple of choices. I can worry about what these symptoms will look like in a day or two, which is typically when they're at their worst...a day or two after onset. Or? I can put my faith into action and trust the Lord to carry my through, shaky right side and whatever else ms throws my way during this flare. I'll take "Lord carries shaky and uncertain me", thanks.
Lord, You're my healer. Thanks for letting this song be the one playing on my radio this morning when I needed it most.