This blog is going to be filled with the truth.
The good, the bad and the ugly.
There will be discussions about things that I endured that I never
thought I would say out loud, ones I especially never considered putting
in print for all the world to see.
But, I want to remember the depths from which God pulled me for the rest
of my grateful existence. And if one person reads these posts and
thinks "Wow, I'm not the only one." and is able to grasp even a whisper
of hope, it will be worth it.
Today comes a confession.
Sometime about this time last year, I stopped bathing. I could no longer
raise my swollen legs high enough to step into the bathtub to take a
shower and I didn't have the energy to take sponge baths. Only when I'd
get infections under a skin fold would I clean it, and only to stop the
pain. I'd change clothes and always wear cologne if we went to church or
what have you, but over time, it got to where I knew people had to be
able to smell me. I think the pinnacle of shame came when I was finally
able to get Randall to admit what I already knew to me.
I of course got bathed in the hospital, rolled side to side by a gaggle
of nurses at all hours of the night. I got home and finally screwed up
enough courage to take a shower at home, but Randall stayed glued to my
side to make sure that I didn't fall.
I still did not bathe daily. My legs would be hurting, or I was too
tired, or I just didn't want to burden my already overworked hubby with
yet something else.
So today, Randall ran to the store to pick up some lunchmeat for
sandwiches for dinner. As soon as he left, I hopped up and headed to the
bathroom.
I did it! I took my very first shower in over a year all by myself! I
washed my hair, got in and out with no trouble, dried and got dressed
without any assistance. When he got home, I was sitting on the sofa in
my PJ's pleased as punch with myself. When he told me he was proud of me
it really made me smile, because I felt the same way.
In some way...getting stronger every day!
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