an attempt at encapsulation...

Just over 5 years ago (on June 24. 2005 to be exact) my life changed in an instant. I could never have predicted or anticipated how different things would be today than they were then – I could never have been ready. And yet somehow today, although it is still so much harder than I would have ever thought, I can see the beauty in it – I can see God’s hand so present in my life. 5 years ago while I was in West Memphis Arkansas working with World Changers, a ceiling support beam fell and hit me in the back of the head officially introducing me to the life and world of chronic and debilitating headaches. Headaches are one of the vaguest and most easily misunderstood concepts – they range from slight to severe and symptoms vary greatly dependent upon the individual. There is no simple way to explain what I experience –but here is my attempt at providing a taste of my world.

I woke up this morning with a headache…a headache I would never wish on anyone…a headache that is beyond miserable, almost unbearable. Before I lifted my head from the pillow I knew it would be a rough day – I knew I had already lost the battle. I sat up slowly but immediately started spinning (I typically experience what I like to refer to as “inverted dizziness” – the room stays completely still, but I feel as though I am turning counterclockwise) which led me to lean over and find a trash can as quickly as possible in hopes of saving the sheets and pillows surrounding me – doing laundry was not exactly at the top of the priority list. After the nausea claimed me as victim of choice for the day, I went downstairs to get water, and a small snack, medicine was FIRST UP on the list of attempted remedies. I took the drugs and settled back into my bed – I would have to call the office and let them know I would be late – something I absolutely hate – something that embarrasses me and makes me feel incompetent and less valuable to my organization – but I needed to gather myself first. I would call in a few minutes, or better yet, maybe I would text. I love that modern technology has allowed me to be less vulnerable. Moments later I began talking to myself audibly… I’ve felt this before…it isn’t new…why do you always feel caught off guard by the stupid headache’s spontaneous arrival…no - slamming your head against the wall is not a good option…yes - unconscious sounds delightful…but my roommates would worry…they shouldn’t have to do that…this is MY problem no one else’s…I should handle it…yes I CAN handle it…get up and put clothes on…that isn’t too hard…just get up and put clothes on. I sit up in bed to endure another round of the spinning and subsequent vomiting. I lay back down and text the boss…I’m going to need some extra time this morning…I’ll be in later…I’m sorry. I close my eyes and pray for sweet relief hoping that the drugs will kick in and take the edge off. My roommates start to wake up and the noise of their movements throughout the house is piercing. I’m thankful to not have light sensitivities (outside of driving at night – that is not a great option for me) but the sound sensitivity is acute and can be difficult to manage as most often it is out of my control. The right side of my head is throbbing, aching, and searing – I can feel my heartbeat – I can hear my heartbeat. I adjust positions in hopes of removing the pressure from the right side of my head but the movement is excruciating. So I stay still. Very still. And tell myself to keep breathing. It will get better. Stay calm. My lips tingle a bit and the ring finger and pinky on my left hand go numb. I can feel the morphine start to take effect – my mouth turns to cotton and my lips stick to my teeth. A pit deep in my stomach begins to ache and I have difficulty formulating words. I speak to myself out loud just to make sure I can still talk. My jaw is sore. Even my teeth hurt. I am officially unable to pretend I’m ok. I’m not ok. The headache not only won the battle, I was defeated in the war. I surrendered to the pain and curled up in my bed. The only remaining question was how long the headache would last.

The emotional implications of chronic pain are deep and the valley is dark. It doesn’t always look the same – but it is always painful. There is a certain sense of dread in knowing what is to come – in knowing that the pain will not subside for quite some time and that sleep is a mere hope for the future. It is devastating to put life on hold because I just can’t pull it together and be ok. Disappointing to say goodbye to the dream yet once again of living a normal life where waking up in the morning does not involve an intense and very real desire to slam your head against a wall with a moderate delusion that it will actually make you feel better. It is exhausting and choosing joy becomes more and more difficult as the days pass and the headaches rage. However, I believe in a God who is much bigger than my headaches and all the symptoms therein. He is faithful and He is near. He has a purpose in my pain and a plan for my future. I choose to rest in the knowledge of His truth and trust His provision for my life. Even on the roughest days there is a glimmer of beauty in knowing I am never really alone. He understands. He gets it. And He will be there until the pain is gone or until I enter eternity and live forever pain free.