This image revealed a part of me I had tucked away for safe keeping. Who was I protecting? Mostly me...my kids, my husband, my parents, siblings, friends. I try very hard to keep this part of me under wraps, because it's the really dark part of me. FEAR and GRIEVING.
I'm not so much afraid of the new drug's nasty side effects anymore (you know the big one, PML-the brain infection that could potentially kill me...I do understand that the possibility of that happening is really, really low-I'm willing to risk it.)
No. These are the questions that are plaguing me in the rare moments I let my guard down:
*How do I know Tysabri is going to slow down the disease process?
*How do I know if it will improve my symptoms?
*How do I know that I'm not going to become progressively more incapacitated and end up in a nursing home before I'm 50?
The truth is, I can't know any of this right now. It's all about faith.
My doctor has seen Tysabri work for other patients. I like her, she's smart and kind...
and, I just met her Tuesday.
*I have to have faith in my doctor...this lovely, intelligent stranger.
*I have to have faith in the drug manufacturer...that they mixed everything properly.
*I have to have faith in the nurses who will administer the infusion to me...all of this still assumes that the system won't fail me and I will be given the drug and our insurance will cover the largest burden of the expense.
*I have to have faith in my body to respond well to this medicine...my body could reject it, that happens sometimes.
*I have to have faith that God will be beside me, inside me, every minute of every day. (OK, this one I really do believe.)
The other questions will remain questions for a while...perhaps a long while. If all goes as planned I'll be on this drug for a year. And then....
And then we cross that bridge.
Faith will have to sustain me for now. Finally something I do know, because it always has.
Here's my SoulCollage® card followed by the reading:
Who are you?
I am one who has sad eyes.
I am one who is tired, exhausted.
I am one who has fought this battle for so long.
I am one who feels lonely and frightened.
I am one who is still standing but needs support.
I am one who aches for change, for healing for renewal.
What do you have to give me?
I offer you an opportunity to admit that you are frightened, to say how tired you really are.
I give you permission to be sad sometimes, to grieve for fights that are un-win-able.
I give you permission to go to the dark places that scare you.
What do you want from me?
I want you to open your heart compassionately to that grieving part of your soul.
I want you to say that you are scared some days, that you feel lonely and weak.
I want you to be "ok" with sharing the sad feelings.
I want you to know that you don’t always have to be sunny for every body else.
Is there anything else you want to tell me?
Sometimes the light is tiny in the vastness of the sky, in the vastness of your being, but the light is still there. You can feel all of this. Stop trying to protect others, yourself, from your fears. They are real. They are ok. You are ok
What is your name? Bruised But Still Standing
So my friends, do you see how this is a gift? I gave myself permission to be honest. Now this card does not negate my sunny, "What's the blessing in this" nature. Not at all. It allows those dominant moments to glow even brighter and to shine love and compassion on and into the wounded, Bruised But Still Standing part of me. Yes, I am an honest blogger. And that means fessing up to all of my feelings openly, so that others will know that it's "ok" for them to love and accept all the different voices within their own expansive selves.
Fear and Grieving are gifts:
Fear is like an arrow pointing the way to what needs attention.
Grieving is the arrow tearing a hole in my bound up heart...allowing more love and healing to flow.
One of my favorite quotes of all time is from the Kotzker Rebbe:
"There is nothing so whole as a broken heart."
In other words, it is precisely our brokenness that allows us to comprehend our wholeness.