It has been six weeks since the neuro-stimulation implant procedure. People have been telling me that it will give me a whole new life. "How do you feel" they ask? I feel like me, with swelling in my back, and two new scars. I knew that I would not be able to judge any difference until I passed my mandatory recovery period, and I could take my back for a test drive.Well over the weekend, I got out with my wife, and my sister, and worked on a project in the back yard. I should say that they worked on the project and I mostly coached. All I did was make a few cuts with a circular saw, then sat and watched as they did the heavy work. The end result is that the project is finished and beautiful. I, on the other hand, am in pain.
Here is what I have learned from my weekend.
First and foremost, I have learned that people with disabilities are truly blessed when they have family who are supportive and will do anything to help. No complaints, no criticism, no questions, just loving support and encouragement. I could not ask for a better support system than I have around me. It occurs to me that I have a choice to be blessed by their love, or be depressed that I can't do something. I chose to be blessed.
Secondly, medical procedures may help you cope with your disability, but there is rarely a magic bullet. Does the procedure help? Ultimately, yes. Is it perfect? No. Again, I have a choice: be bitter at the medical profession, frustrated at my lot in life, and angry that nothing seems to cure the problem, or happy for the relief I did get, grateful that I have a good life (in spite of the problems), and content with what I am able to do. I chose happiness, gratitude, and contentment.
Thirdly, I have come to realize that my disability is a permanent reality. I am not going to wake up one day and have it all become a distant memory. I cannot afford to dwell on it, complain about it, or expect everybody to understand my issues. I don't need to worry about those who criticize, misunderstand, and sneer in public because they do not understand my disability. The burden I carry is heavy enough without piling their opinion on my back too. I chose to make the best of my life, within the limitations that have been set for me.
Finally, I know that a large part of coping with my disability is my own attitude toward it. If I am hopeless, how long with my family continue their unwavering support? If I am bitter, how many doctors will continue to search for acceptable treatments? If I am hopeless then what will be the quality of the life I still have control over? I will have down days, but my attitude will help determine how many of those down days I will have.I remember visiting an older friend in the hospital. His diabetes was so bad that they eventually had to amputate his feet. His family was concerned about his attitude when he came out of the anesthesia, so they asked me to go in first. I will never forget what happened when he woke up. He looked down the bed, and say, "Wow, isn't that wonderful. I can lay flat in bed, and my feet don't mess up the covers anymore." I want his attitude, and that will happen only when I commit to being hopeful and not helpless.
