Many of you have asked how I'm doing. My answer is almost always, "ok" or "good". I then get "the look" which tells me that you know "good" isn't an accurate response. I think I need to start clarifying that when I say, "I'm good", what I mean is I'm good emotionally. For the most part that is true. I have my moments of course, but over all my state of mind is pretty positive. What choice do I have? Being miserable is..well..miserable.
Some of you know my Grammie Maddocks. She has the craziest sense of humor. It's one of those things that you either get her humor or you are completely horrified by what she finds funny!
She was always wanting to document the "funky" things that happened to us. When I was one I was found sucking on a piece of glass when at first people thought I was sucking on ice. The blood coming out of my mouth was a good clue. She wrapped the piece of glass up in paper towel and saved it. She loved telling that story. When I was eleven I got bit by a bug causing my mouth to swell four times it's normal size. Yes, we have the picture. When I was thirteen I had the worse chapped lips I've ever seen. It was nasty, brown, and crusty up to my nose. Yup, got a picture of that too. We also have a picture of the horrible out I wore Easter Sunday when I was around the age of nine. Her favorite stories to tell were of these sort of incidents. She would laugh, some would laugh with her, some would think it was horrible she found humor in our less then perfect moments.
I tend to laugh at things less then funny to others. I've learned the hard way I need to be careful and gauge others sense of humor before cracking some of my jokes. When it's me who is suffering some calamity, I spend more time laughing at my distress then I do moping about it. I think it's my way of coping. It's like I'm looking at my situation from the outside and saying, "really?", "seriously?", "you've got to be kidding me!".
Today for instance, I suffered the results of over doing it. I went to the mall with the girls last night and then went to church this morning. Shhhhh....don't tell my physical therapist, she'll smack me upside the head! (Love you Casey) Anyway, by the end of church I began to lose my ability to talk..that IS frustrating, especially for me! I also lost the connection that goes from my brain to my legs. Usually, when you want to walk somewhere it is an automatic response, your feet just go. Sometimes, like today, I look straight ahead, want to walk to my destination, and just stand there. My legs don't go. My husband and daughter had to drag me into the house. I'm sorry, but after I got settled into bed, I have to admit I looked back at the situation and had to laugh. There are a boat load of jokes I could crack. Bottom line the irony of the whole situation is something I smirk at. My Nana Brown use to get after me as a teenager for doing to much. She was always telling me to slow down. It wouldn't surprise me in the least if she had some responsibility from Heaven in this situation. At the very least she is shaking her head and sighing at my inability to STOP.
Don't worry, there are a few things I don't find funny in this. The biggest is my not wanting to draw attention to myself. (I know, I know, blogging draws attention to myself. Blogging is done from behind a computer screen). I hate using a walker, I hate asking for help, I hate accepting help. I think it's because I don't want to take advantage of anyone. We all have struggles and there are so many people who need help, not just me. I keep telling myself that I'm being prideful. So, I'm TRYING to accept help. I have found that if I look at it from my families perspective it's much easier. I don't personally need much. I'm just laying around. My family, on the other hand, are picking up all my slack. They may be very happy to accept help. From now on when someone asks me what they can do to help me I'm going to turn that question over to my husband and kids and ask them what THEY need for help.
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