One Normal Day

One Normal Day
Dorcas Annette Walker

The other Sunday I had one day of being myself- something that hasn’t happened for months. Once I got up and took my pain meds my bones and joints didn’t bother me like usual. I put a roast in the crock pot, ironed a dress to wear, and then got ready for church. I had to keep telling myself to slow down as I felt energy surging through my body. I was afraid it would suddenly leave like it has all too often before. It felt strange to feel strong after dragging around for so long.

Excitement welled up inside me on the drive to church. After not being away from the house for a couple of weeks, my eyes drank in familiar sights. I felt as though I had come back home from being away on a long journey. The world looked brand new. I savored the sight of each tree and flower reveling in familiar landscapes that I had forgot.

When I walked my feet wanted to skip and dance, but I restrained myself as any quick movement threw me off balance, settling instead to walk sedately on my own without having to lean on my husband’s arm for support. It was an invigorating to feel independent again instead of being reduced to the helpless clinging-vine of a woman I had become. I realized that I felt no pain. It was actually scary. Had some kind of miracle happened?

All my senses were alive. Instead of the shell of my body being at church with the real me looking on from the shadows while trying to focus through pain, I now could take in every detail without concentrating until becoming exhausted. I sang in the choir feeling once more a part of my home church and not some visitor. Even though the possibility of collapsing when I got back home hovered in the back of my mind it didn’t dim the joy of being with all my friends, who have supported me faithfully in prayer for so long. What a rejoicing and hugging time we had being together again.

Back home I set the dining room table, served the meal, and then washed up the dishes like I always had in the past. While my guys laid down for an afternoon nap, I walked outside soaking in the beauty of the warm summer day. My flowers reached out to welcome me as I mentally made note of all the things that needed to be done. I wished I could grab my trowel and wade in to restore my neglected flower beds back to their former glory, but I restrained myself. I sat on the front porch, answered some letters, and puttered around like I used to do before Lyme disease took over my life. I wanted to pinch myself to make sure that I wasn’t dreaming.

The hours flew by swiftly… all too fast. I wanted to grab time and stop it. I chatted with my sister on the phone. She sounded so happy that I was having such a good day. Then still feeling like myself, I went to church that evening to hear Dana preach. It had been months since I last heard him preach, much less got out in the evening. Usually by nighttime I am always exhausted and drag around. The regular organist was absent so I played the organ - a huge step of faith as you need a clear mind. I’ve tried different times to play the piano at the house to stay in practice, but often have to quit because it takes so much concentration that I quickly become exhausted and fatigued. My fingers flew over the keys like before and it was a wonderful to feel the music flowing out from my finger tips. I played along for the specials songs, even though I hadn’t practiced, instinctively hitting the right notes like I used to do when playing by ear. The church folk were so excited to see me again that night.

We came back home, I changed into my PJ’s, and then Dana and I relaxed and watched a DVD. He was amazed that I was still up, going, and feeling okay. All too soon it was bedtime. Even though I was feeling tired, it wasn’t the draining exhaustion like usual. I reluctantly crawled into bed not wanting the day to end. I fell asleep with a smile on my face and slept soundly until I woke up once again in pain. Even though I’ve been back in bed again and have had to struggle through rough days of chronic pain the memory of my one normal day helps to sustain me. I will always treasure the unexpected gift that I was given.