I Propose, But My Bones Dispose

I Propose, But My Bones Dispose
Dorcas Annette Walker

3 AM: Saturday night I shift restlessly in bed as pain keeps pulling me awake interrupting my sleep. My pain increases enough that I come out of the fog to realize that I need to get up and take more pain medication. I fumble in the darkness for the button light on the clock beside my bed as pain shoots through my body and groan when I see that it is only 3 o’clock in the morning. Not another night of interrupted sleep! My bones scream in protest as I stand, fight for balance, and slowly walk out to the kitchen to warm up some hot chocolate in the microwave to take with my pain medication. Every move I make increases my pain level. After popping a pain pill I concentrate on not spilling the hot chocolate as I stagger across the living room to my recliner and turn on a lamp. Sweat pops out on my forehead and I feel like I’m going to collapse any second. I grit my teeth and slowly settle myself down in the recliner as more pain shoots through my body. I gasp for air and try to slow down my breathing. My hand automatically reaches downward for a magazine in the basket beside my recliner. It will take a half an hour at least for me to feel any relief. Hopefully the colorful pictures or a short article will distract my mind until the pain pill kicks in. Lucy Lou sighs and settles down at my feet. I echo her sigh. Maybe I’ll be able to get enough rest to make it to church this Sunday later on in the morning. I miss seeing my friends and hate the isolation of being forced to stay at home due to pain. After an hour I start to feel a bit groggy. Hopefully a little bit longer my body will relax enough so I can go back to sleep. Two hours later I ease back in bed and let sleep overtake me once more.

7 AM: I can barely focus on my husband’s voice through the sharp pain that hits me as I come back to consciousness. He is asking me if I’m going to be able to go to church. I cry out in pain and turn my head shutting my eyes. Pain surges through my entire body like a raging fire and I grip my teeth to keep from screaming. Try to relax! I order my body as it tenses up under another onslaught of pain. Relax and go back to sleep! I chant over and over inside my head as I feel myself slowly sink back down.

10 AM: When I wake up again it is after 10 o’clock. I won’t be making it to church this Sunday. I blink away tears. Once again my life is interrupted due to pain. I feel depressed seeing the sunshine and beautiful day outside my window. The window stands like a barrier between isolation and normalcy. Too many times I’ve been trapped inside when I want to be out like everyone else. I take more pills and eat a bowl of oatmeal with fruit. I can hardly stay awake to finish my breakfast and gratefully crawl back in bed not waking up until my husband and son come home for lunch.

3 PM: That afternoon still in my PJ’s I try to read in the recliner fighting a strong urge to sleep. I want to stay awake and not miss the entire day. I’ve missed too many days already out of my life. My body will not cooperate and I find myself dozing off and on. I finally give in and stagger back to bed. My life has become reduced to sleeping, waking up, popping pills, eating, and sleeping again. I wake up around suppertime. The house is silent again. My husband and son are back at church and I am alone. I take more pain medication and scrounge around in the refrigerator for leftovers. I manage to stay awake reading a magazine in the recliner until my husband and son comes home from church.

9 PM: I can no longer stay awake so I head back to bed feeling totally wrung out and exhausted as if I have put in a hard day’s work. I drop into a sound sleep and don’t know anything until the next morning.

The next day my pain is under control, but I feel angry and depressed. I’ve missed another day in my life. Why God? Why couldn’t my bones behave and let me be normal again? I didn’t even get to enjoy the sunshine and take a walk outside yesterday. When will I gain back control of my life? I don’t want to spend the rest of my days staggering around trying to stay awake, living in my recliner, and fighting pain. There is so much I yearn to do: writing, painting, working on crafts, sew a quilt square for the church quilt, feed the birds, work in my flower gardens, clean my house, catch up on the wash, not to mention the pile of dirty dishes in the sink…