Define Excited...

ex-cit-ed [ik-sahy-tid]
adjective
1. stirred emotionally; agitated

2. stimulated to activity; brisk

I'm hearing from a lot of people since I announced that I'll be having a procedure done on the 25th. I know that people care about me and I know that they want me to be better so, in that regard, the good wishes are greatly appreciated. I can't tell you how many messages (verbal, handwritten or virtual) I've received telling me how excited people are for me or that they can't imagine how excited I must be. 

Let me clear something up for everyone: I AM NOT EXCITED.

Don't get me wrong, I am happy that we are finally making some headway on my medical problem. I am ridiculously pleased that I'm going to be getting a chance to feel better. But it's really, really hard to be excited. Let me help put you in my place so that some of you can understand where I am coming from.

First, I will not be having surgery on the 25th. I will just be getting a trial stimulator implanted. My pain doc will inject a couple of electrodes into the back of my head, just under the skin. I will live for a week with wires hanging out of the injection site that are attached to a battery/controller. I will get to play with the level of stimulation to see how effective a permanent stimulator will be. After about a week, the electrodes will be pulled out of the back of my head and I will be left back in my original state of pain.

Secondly, there will be a lot more fighting after the trial. Once we (hopefully) prove that the stimulator will be an effective tool for managing my pain, we will have to convince the insurance company to let us get the permanent stimulator surgically implanted. 

Third, my life is hanging in a very unhappy balance right now. I'm in so much pain on a daily basis  that all I want to do is crawl out of my skin. Being trapped in a body that doesn't seem to want you is a torturous type of existence and it makes it very difficult for me to be excited about anything. It is so much easier for me to be angry at my medical situation right now. Being surrounded by people who are "excited" for me can drive me a little insane. I am constantly having to remind myself that these people care about me and that's why they are passing on their congratulations.

Lastly, if you will notice, there is nothing in the definition of "excited" that says it's a good thing. I might be excited in the agitated way, but I am not excited in the way that most people hope I am.

Now that you are armed with the facts, I would also like to say this: Thank you all for driving me crazy. You honestly do not know how much it means to me. 

Christmas Wishes

I have always thought that the Christmas Wish idea was a lovely one. As a kid, you sat in Santa's lap, stared at his bushy beard and divulged to him the toy that you wanted more than any other....at the moment. In my life, I believe that I have witnessed two true Christmas Miracles. Each of these miracles have resulted from a wish, but neither of these wishes have been whispered into Santa's ear.

When my little brother was seven-years-old, he was in need of a father figure. Our dad was in Seattle and we didn't get to see him often enough to satisfy a boy's need for a male role model. My mother put in an application to get him paired with a volunteer from Big Brothers, Big Sisters. Since his application was still in the "Too Be Matched" pile, BBBS sent him a card asking him to write down what he wanted for Christmas so that thy could at least give him something while he spent his holidays waiting. When Mom asked him what sh should write on the card he said, "Can't they just get me a Big Brother?"

Mom replied that they were wanting to send him a toy while he waited for his Big Brother. My brother shook his head and proclaimed, "All I want is a Big Brother."

His Christmas wish was pure and simple.

His Christmas miracle came in the form of a Big Brother that became a part of our family and whom we still love and hear from fourteen years later.

Sometime around the 20th of December I couldn't take it anymore. I found myself in my bed, on my back and staring into the blackness hanging in front of my ceiling. I tried to pray silently, but my thoughts kept getting too muddled to follow; so I spoke out loud, fighting against the choking tears I was trying to hold back. Deciding that shorter was better, I said, "I know that my family is not going to have a big Christmas. Having everyone together and sharing the joy of the love you have given us is a gift that I am happy to receive. I try not to ask for much, but I can't help asking for this; please send me an answer."

An answer. That was my Christmas Wish. Pure and simple.

My Christmas Miracle came on the 23rd in the form of a letter from the insurance company saying that they would approve my occipital nerve stimulator trial.

I am not a Christian who dwells on the details of how the miracles in the Bible took place. I do not expect to be swallowed by a giant fish, to see a man walk on water, part the Red Sea or speak with a burning bush. These pleas came from a rarely used part of the heart that can only be touched in a moment of pure hope, a little desperation and a lot of belief. These wishes were not made to gain anything material or receive any appreciation. Both the statement from a little boy and the pain filled prayer from a suffering young woman couldn't be ignored. Everyone feels, at times, that they have hit rock bottom. I have felt that way many times in the past six years. Sometimes it feels as if our wishes, prayers and pleas disappear into a black abyss and never make it farther than two feet from our mouths that utter the words. Feeling forsaken is a part of living. But, let me tell you this: God is good. And he knows what he is up to.

Merry Christmas