Emily's Thankful Leaf

I got an email from my youngest daughter the other day. The family is building a thankful tree. Every day the grandkids tell momma what they are thankful for. She then writes the words on a leaf, and they hang it on the thankful tree. On this particular day her oldest child, Emily, said she was thankful for Grandpa's new knees. What an honor to be so loved by my grandkids that they would be thankful for my new knees.

Today, I need to remember to be as thankful as my grand daughter. It is a bit more difficult to be thankful on the days where the cobalt and plastic, don't feel very good inside of my legs. The healing process takes time, and I want it to be better right now.

Being thankful is therapeutic. It takes the focus off of the pain and directs our focus on a different subject. Being thankful activates your mind, brings strength to your body, and produces joy in your spirit. How many times have you visited a person in a nursing home or hospital thinking you were going to lift their spirits only to have them lift yours. The person you visited has been through the problems and the pain. They live with it every day. Yet they decide that being thankful is a better way to live.

I remember my younger years. Back then, I could be much more thankful than I seem to be today. It is so easy to focus on the internal pain, and the problems around us. Perhaps that is a reason why Jesus held a child and said, "Unless you become like one of these, you will not enter the kingdom." Life isn't so difficult that I can't be thankful. So what if I have to sit down and wrap my knee in ice. So what if I don't have the stamina to stand on my feet for long periods of time. This pain is only temporary.

So today, I have decided that I am thankful for my life, a wonderful wife, a great family, the roof over my head, good friends, and oh yes, new knees.

Handicapped Parking=Hey, Park Here!

There is something about that blue handicapped paint on the blacktop that tells delivery people, moving trucks, and armored cars that it is ok to park in those spots. Visit any office building when a new company is moving in. They believe that the handicapped spots were designed for them, and they will occupy those spaces for days at a time.

The other day I was at my neighborhood Walgreens (my store of choice). I love Walgreens. The pharmacy department takes great care of me. Walgreens builds their stores with the door in the corner of the building. To the right and the left of the door are always two handicapped spaces (for a total of four spaces). On this day, however, there were no spaces available. On the left, a UPS delivery truck pulled up in front of the blue spaces and was making a delivery. On the right, a Wells Fargo Armored Vehicle sat in front of the spaces to make a pick up.

Were there other spaces they could use? Sure. The armored car had an angry looking guy with a gun standing outside and a stern looking driver on the inside. Would it be impossible for the third tough looking guard to walk a few feet farther to the dozens of other parking spaces? I doubt it. It must be written in their handbook that having a stern face and a gun makes one disabled.

There is a huge difference between need and necessity. Can I walk a bit farther? Yes, but I would have to take up two parking spaces because I must open the door fully in order to get my legs out of the car. How do you think taking up two regular spaces would go over?

I thought one time about pulling up in front of the armored truck and parking. Fortunately, reason won out over emotion and I did not challenge the guys with the guns. But how can we communicate to truck drivers that the handicapped spaces are not for them?

If most handicapped people are like me, I am sure we would love to be able to take the stickers off of the car. We would love to be able to ski, and run, or even to climb stairs without difficulty. We would love to be youthful like those truck drivers, but for us, it is only a dream. For them, however, it is a reality. They can walk and live an active life.  So move out of my spot and walk a little farther.

Knee Replacement Number Two

Isn't it true that once you have been through a trauma, then the next one is easier? That is what I was told, and I found comfort in the thought. Well, I just had my second total knee replacement and other than matching scars, there are very few similarities.

I met some incredible people on my trip to the hospital. Hoag Orthopedic has great employees who never stressed out on me one time. When I asked for the room to be warmer, they made it warmer until I asked them to make it cooler. This happened several times each day. I dropped a full bottle of body fluids on the floor, and they did not flinch. When I did it a second time, they were very supportive. When it happened a third time, I was sure that Maria would have given up on me. Not so. Later in the afternoon, when I called that I had dropped the urinal, they came running with towels, mops and solutions. Apparently, they had simply stationed the cleaning equipment just outside of my door. Perhaps you can picture their relief when they discovered that I hadn't filled it yet.

Amazingly, I gained nothing from my first knee that could be applied to the second knee experience. A nurse said something that put it all into perspective (The Doctor wasn't very happy with her statement, but I found great comfort in it.) She said, "Of course it hurts, the doctor nearly cut you leg completely in half. Then their are the saws, hammers and glue." Put that way, I see myself as a giant craft project.

Pain has its purpose, but once I know that something hurts, couldn't there be an off switch? That is how I would do it. But it wouldn't work, because just as soon as we experience pain, we test it again, and again to see if it is still there.

CPM machines, walkers, canes, grabbers, and elevated toilet seats are my new reality. In the end, two realities made it was worth going through. A nurse named Ray who spent a lot of time with me, asked me if I would send her some information to help her know Jesus better. The second thing is that we don't have three legs. I am done.

Here we go again!

"Here we go again!" Have you ever felt this way? It is almost like a car, when the water pump breaks, it is like a guarantee that the alternator is going to go out next. Or, when one part of your body fails, you know that another  part will follow. Let me give an even better example (a personal  one).

My back was injured at a young age, so I walked with a limp for many years. It got to the point where I needed back surgery. So, we did that, twice. When the back problems were solved, tremendous knee pain began. Turns out, during the period where I limped, my right knee was destroyed. A knee replacement was the only way to solve the problem. When that was solved, (I am sure you can figure this one out) my left knee, which had been supporting most of my weight throughout my life, began to hurt. Now, I am poised for my second knee (Next week in fact|).

The human body has a tremendous capacity to heal itself, but when joints are worn, that is a different story. Fortunately, the body will envelop the cold cobalt metal, and heal itself, leaving only a scar of what once was an issue.

Those of us with disabilities can either look at the deterioration, or the restoration. We can wait for the next part to fall apart, or we can relish in the healing process and the periods in between the problems.  The recovery period for a knee replacement is longer that we would like, but while we are focusing on the pain and the limitations, our body is hard at work adapting to the new reality.

Perhaps we can learn from our own DNA. It does not get depressed over what may come next. It just spits, and reproduces itself, until everything that can be restored, is restored. DNA does not sit around waiting for something else to go wrong. Your body goes back to doing what it normally does, replacing skin cells, cleaning the blood stream of bad things, providing oxygen to the brain, things like that.

The truth is, we need the help of others to remind us to be like DNA. Things will repair as well as possible, and we will have a new reality. The reason we need the help of others is that looking at the present is easy. Dwelling on the past doesn't help our present either. But, when we are carving out our own rut, we can see where we are, and where we have been, but we can't see where we are going. That is where others come in. They can see the future a lot better than the person in the rut can. They are on the surface and can see in all directions. They have the ability to lift you out of the rut and help set you on a new course.

So, here is a request. Remind me of what I just said over the next few months. Be my friend and help me be like my own DNA. Respond to this blog, email me. Google me, FaceBook me, talk to me on Linkedin, and remind me that it is going to get better. I need to focus on the healing process and look forward with anticipation to a new reality. Help me see it when I am down.

Reinventing Myself Every Day

 

   Perhaps you are a lot like me. I have to reinvent myself every singly day. This is because I feel different pretty much every day. Nerve pain changes, or my stimulator implant doesn't work as well on a particular day, the knee that hasn't been replaced yet goes on the blink, or some other issue creeps up, and today is different than it was yesterday. I can understand why people don't know what to expect out of me because I don't know what to expect out of myself either.
     The Apostle Paul, in the Bible makes a statement that I must live by, when he declares that he sets aside what lies behind and presses forward toward the prize. The days of preaching are gone, and the days of singing have passed. The days of representing a Christian college vanished a long time ago and more recently so did the days of public school teaching. Who I was yesterday is not who I am today. Who I am today is not anywhere close to the person I will be tomorrow.
     If I spend all of my days trying to relive what I used to be, I will miss the things I still can be. One thing that is certain, I am considered permanently disabled. That being said, I can now begin to reinvent a whole new me that works within those disabilities. In the past few years I have become a writer, author, blogger, independent publisher, cook, and the best house husband I can be. I stay home most of the time, moving from my desk to my recliner. My circumstances have little to do with what I have to say, or how I can still have influence. As long as I have ideas, I will continue to write.
     I am sure there will be no end to the things people say about me, and while those opinions may affect me for a time, it is what God says about me that is really important. Because of this, I will continue to reinvent myself so that I might have the opportunity to impact a few. If that happens, then what more could anyone ask?

I Have Never Felt So Disabled

It was a delightful experience, taking my wife to the theater to enjoy a terrific musical.  The seats were near the front to get the most of the experience. I purchased seats on the aisle to be able to extend my legs to keep them limber. Though the seats did not fit my back, I was determined to make the most of it. Then, intermission came...

No matter how hard I tried, I could not get up. People wanted out of the aisle to go to the bathrooms and purchase more refreshments. They jammed together as they waited for me to get out of the way, but it wasn't happening. My wife had to climb over the top of me, and pull from the isle way.  Even that took considerable effort to get me unfolded from the shape of the seat. When she finally pulled me free, my legs would not hold me up, buckling with every attempt to move out of the way.

In all honesty, there was not one complaint from those trying to get out of the row.  They could see how much difficulty I was having, and though I was keeping them from their desired freedom, they were very kind. My wife was so encouraging and supportive.  She held me up, and waited patiently for my legs to hold me up. No, the frustration was only with me.

I have struggled with recovery from surgeries, and bore the pain of doing more than my surgically repaired body could handle.  All of those things were expected and approached them with a good attitude.  This was different. I was at the theater, and couldn't do what healthy people could do. I could not explain away what I was experiencing. Suddenly the word "disabled" felt so real.

I am no different than any other person with disabilities. We would rather ignore reality, adapt to what is happening, and move on. But, there are those times when we cannot pretend. At those times you know exactly what I was feeling at the time.  I have never felt so disabled. I wished I had Mary Poppins Umbrella and could just fly.

Invisible illness was brought to light in a dramatic way on 5/5/2013 with the explanation of traumatic brain injury among soldiers.  This is brought about by second and third concussions before the first one was completely cured. How sad to hear of our military personnel being called names, and emotionally abused because they are incapable of moving on with their lives.

Again I ask, what is your story?  What is the injury that is keeping you on the sideline? Share it with me at tgw.bittner@att.net

But...You Don't Look Disabled, The Book

          In a recent conversation with a mental health professional, I was told that my concern for invisible illness is all too common problem for people with disabilities.  "You are a good writer. You need to write a book about it. You can help a lot of people. In fact, your blog title would be a perfect book title." If such a book were written, I would not want the book just to be about my own issues.  That would be a boring book.
          What is your story? Please write to me at tgw.bittner@att.net. Tell me about your disability, and how it affects you.  How do others view your invisible illness? What struggles have you faced? How have you adapted, or even overcome your disability?  I would like to include your story in a new book about invisible disabilities. Your story may be the encouragement that others need to continue on in their struggle.  Let's write a book together.

Everybody Has Down Days

     Everybody has down days.  You have probably heard this phrase all of your life.  But for many with disabilities, the saying feels a little different.  We look forward to the up days.  They are the days when pain has subsided, and we are capable of accomplishing a few things we used to be able to accomplish without thought.

     I have remodeled houses, gutted large portions of buildings and started over, moved walls, done serious landscaping, and built buildings, all while working a full time job. Today I have spend nearly three hours trying to dismantle a leaking bench in the shower. I have succeeded at making a mess, but I do not have the strength to pry off the soggy boards. A good day would be nice.

     I know that I am not alone with this type of frustration. What I am describing is nothing new to you. Yet, when I am just sitting, my mind still believes that I can do these things. My frustration is a product of my own memory.  

     Most posts are general lessons about living with disabilities. I try to be positive and educational.  Today, I just need comfort, and a reminder that I will have some good days ahead.  Anybody?