It's 6:39 a.m. and I'm blogging before my son and husband get up. Not that I can't wait until my son goes to school, but I'm antsy anyway. I've just left an update on Fa*cebo*ok requesting prayer, as I'm genuinely surprised that I still can't hear, still can't chew food, still have plenty of pain (including the roof of my mouth and even my teeth), and still can't work. I've lost a week's wages, but that's not what upsets me so much as missing out on life in general.
Oddly enough, I can hear a bird singing outside right now as it welcomes the dawn.
Last night I started thinking about what I might learn from this experience. I guess I'm learning what it's like to be in pain to some degree all day, every day, trying to stay ahead of it with medication and slowing down life to its most basic elements. This is useful in helping me to empathize with my dear husband, who has been unfortunate enough to suffer from tendonitis in both wrists -- first the left, shortly after our son was born (because of the way he was holding him) -- then the right, which was brought on by wall-mounting our TV by himself. The left one took a year to go away with therapy. Who knows how long the right will take?
For whatever reason, it has taken me until this morning to really seek God in this. I've barely prayed in almost a week. Not that I blame Him. He certainly wouldn't bring about an injury or sickness. But He has opted to allow me to go through this, and that's why I need to pay closer attention.