Today was a rough day, there’s no other way to say it. It started out with all the usual morning motions of shower, clothes, makeup, carpool, medicine, water, breakfast, tea, journaling my sleep, medicine, goals for the day, work, more water, more work, more pills. Everything was fine in my world; I was worn out, didn’t have much energy, but felt comfortable, stable, quietly hopeful.
And then the tail spin came. I was sitting at my desk in the walk-in clinic, when I was visited by a familiar sprite who causes my head to feel blurry, my eyes to stare at black, and my mouth to stop functioning. I messaged my clinical counterpart in walk-in and close friend that I was blacking out. She raced up to see what was happening and when I couldn’t speak clearly, she ran to call the provider we work for to come check on me. The nurse practitioner, along with two other female providers, sprinted through the clinic to reach me.
They laid me on the floor, monitored my blood pressure and pulse, and waited it out with me as the spots kept control of my vision, the fuzziness prevented me from speaking, and a couple tears rolled down to the carpet beneath me. The women surrounding me were one of my best friends and the greatest nurse I know, the nurse practitioner I work for, with whom I grow closer with by the day and adore to no end, the other nurse practitioner in the walk-in clinic (who is amazing as well), and a physician assistant who has become a friend, and is also the daughter of the couple in whose guest house Nick and I will be staying in Texas during my surgeries.
Once I was able to get to an exam table and take a few drinks of water, we talked through all my prescriptions, medical situations, upcoming appointments, and my surgeries. They gave me their worried love, wiped lipstick from my cheeks (that crap will get in weird places when you randomly faint and have to be lowered to the floor), and stood by me with the quiet strength that always emanates from them. They helped me talk through solutions and prescribed me to eat a sandwich and a cookie 😀 I was told to eat a cookie today, y’all!
As lighthearted as I just sounded, the event left me shaky throughout the rest of the day, and set my emotions spinning. Earlier that day, I felt in control, I knew the plan ahead for my health, I didn’t expect anything like that to happen to me today. But it did; I had no foresight to predict it, no power to stop it, no ability to withdraw from its grasp once it had begun. I was its prey, and there was no changing the course. It’s a hard reality for someone who works so hard to manage, take captive the symptoms that like to taunt me in order to maintain the feeling I associate with being “me”.
But as a daughter of Christ, I have experienced that there is one who is ALWAYS in control of what happens to me, and won’t ever let me go even in the midst of the worst chaos. And as the shock and fear wore off, the peace of Jesus and the strength of the women surrounding me propelled me forward, and held me together as I endured through the day. As the day continued and each patient came and went, I felt increasingly proud of the fact that I was still standing, still showing up to my life, still making a difference for each patient during their visit. In myself and in the women who surrounded me with such love and protection, I caught a glimpse of the Wonder Woman who, each day, is my own muse.
As I sit here in bed and mull over today, my first conclusion is that I am thankful for Jesus’ ever-near presence and comfort, and that He is the only one in control of my life and my health. The second is that I have never been more grateful and awestruck at the women that surround me every day at my job. I am inspired by them everyday, and I marvel at their presence in my life. They are strong, bold, smart, and loving, and they push me to be those things, too.