Three Years

March 2018.  Three years ago.  That was the last time I took a step.  I don’t remember the exact date, because when it happened I didn’t know it would be the last time. All I know is I hobbled to bed one night, and woke up the next morning and couldn’t stand.  

I had known during the two years leading up to it that the strength in my legs was slowly going. (I had been walking with a walker and it was getting harder and harder.)  But I didn’t truly expect it to be completely gone just like that.  And yet - when I woke that Thursday morning and tried - for several minutes - to stand up but I just couldn’t do it.  Every time I grabbed my walker to pull myself up, I would fall right back onto my bed.

My husband was busily getting ready for work.  I looked at him and said, “I can’t do it.  I can’t stand up.”  He didn’t say much.  He just calmly came over, picked me up and carried me to the couch. 

That day started a series of events which led to months of tests, a hospital stay, and then a 5-week stint at a spinal rehabilitation center.  Three weeks into my stay, my doctor walked into my room, sat on the edge of my bed, and told me that she and my other doctors do not feel I would ever walk again.  She then said, “Our focus in your rehab will now be getting you ready to live life in a wheelchair.”

I sat there, taking in all the information.  I didn’t give much of a response.  I kept calm.  I realized that, somehow, deep inside, I knew this day was coming.  I had prayed it wouldn’t.  There were hundreds of people praying that the rehab would work and that I would regain my strength. But it didn’t and this day still came.

The doctor left and I called my husband to tell him.  That’s when the tears came.  I felt alone and scared.  He was quiet at first, then asked a few questions for clarification.  I know he wanted to be with me but he was at work and I was 45 mins away. 

A week later, I found myself sitting in a room with my occupational therapist and a representative from a wheelchair company ordering my custom wheelchair.  It felt a little surreal.  Surely this wasn’t a wheelchair for ME.  This wasn’t MY life!

It is overwhelming the options I was given for the chair - they type of seat cushion, back rest, type of frame, what color, etc.  I decided to go with  “red ferrari” because red is my favourite color and I figured if this was going to be an extension of me I might as well get it in a color I love. 

The next weeks were filled with learning techniques for cooking, transferring to/from my chair, etc.  I also spent several days calling my family and telling them of the diagnosis.  We sat our four kids down and shared the news with them.  That was hard - to tell them that the miracle we had all been praying for hadn’t come.  And yet we reminded them that everything was going to be okay and that God was going to give us the strength to get through.  They were sad and disappointed.  News like this affects more than just the patient.  My entire family has been affected in some way - it’s not just me.  

My time at the rehab center finished and “real” life began.  Each week I encountered the obstacles that wheelchair users face.  Daily life suddenly became hard - really hard.  I was faced with the realization that most of the world is geared for the able-bodied, including our house.  I’d have good days and bad days, days where I was fine and happy and days where all I could do was cry. 

And here we are - three years later.  I still have good and bad days.  I still cry - though maybe not as much.   I still grieve over the way life used to be.  I crave just standing up and walking.   I see other people doing things I used to be able to do and feel jealousy begin to well up in my heart. I get angry when I’m trying to maneuver somewhere and I bump into a corner, wall, or chair.  I’m a little ashamed to admit that I’ve even gotten so angry I once punched the wall (thankfully didn’t put a hole in it!). 

But even with all that hard stuff, there has been even more great stuff.  

I have seen a loving church family not even hesitate to come and care for our family.  I have met some incredible nurses and doctors who have taken extra measures to see that I am comfortable and getting what I need. 

I have seen firsthand what true love is - displayed through my husband’s selfless care of me. I could talk for hours giving example after example of the ways he’s shown love and support in the way he has taken care of me. His marriage vows of “in sickness and health” were not just words to him.  He lives it every day. 

I have had multiple opportunities to sit and talk with my children about how good God is.   We have talked about how His ways are higher than ours, and even if life doesn’t go the way we want or imagine, He still is in control and still only wants good for us. 

I have been able to share that same testimony of God’s goodness with many others whether in person, through speaking, and in my writing.

The reason I am able to teach all this to my kids and others is because that is exactly what God has taught me through all of this.  I have had the privilege to see firsthand God living out His promise to never leave me and to carry me through the hard times.  In my times of fear, uncertainty, and yes, even anger, God has ALWAYS shown me that He is here, that He has got this, that He loves me.   He’s shown me that his strength is perfect in my weakness. 

Honestly, these last several years have been incredibly difficult.  They haven’t been pleasant.  They have been disappointing and frustrating.  But at the same time, they have been wonderful and amazing.  I am not going to sit here and tell you that I would do it all over again - because that’s not true.  I don’t wish to have any more times like these last years.  I can’t exactly say that I’m thankful for them, but I am thankful for what they taught me and for how they have grown me as a person.  I can say that I am thankful that I have been able to see that God has remained my constant.   

Each day still is hard.  I am still learning how to do things from my wheelchair.  I am still coming to grips with the fact that my life has changed so drastically.  I still have bouts of sadness, anger, and jealousy.  But because I have experienced God’s faithfulness in these last few years, I will continue to roll around in my “red ferrari” wheelchair, doing my best to always lean on the Lord, getting through whatever it is that He lovingly brings into my path.  

I am not who I was a few years ago - and that is a good thing.  I still have a long way to go, but if I’ve learned anything through these past years, it’s that with God, I can do the hard things.