This week has been very different than many of my past weeks of living.
Last weekend a storm came through the east coast, a storm that many people, including my sister and her favored weather channel host, Greg, did not believe would be as devastating as it was. Hurricane Matthew left many cities underwater with washed out roads and bridges, he even robbed many of power and water, some of whom will be without for maybe even a month to come.
Because of this storm, schools closed down for the week, some of which will remained closed for an indefinite period of time.
And although this storm has treated cities close to my heart very terribly, I am not going to write about tears or sorrow. For God is a might and powerful God; he can turn even the greatest of storms into victories. He can turn the most agonizing challenges into a story of great determination, success and joy -- He has done just that in my life.
This past Friday me and the sis (I know - incorrect grammar, but this is a blog, not a research critique) went on a early morning daycation to Chapel Hill. Our main stop was a place where I have spent many hours, most of those hours I was in agonizing pain and normally not smiling; however, this time, all I could do was smile.
Since Hurricane Matthew left us with over one week of no school, my sister decided to tag-along with me to my '6 month' follow-up appointment with my orthopedic surgeon.
This past Friday was five months and nine days since I began walking; add three weeks onto that, and this past Friday makes it exactly six months since my external fixator was taken off.
Time flies by so fast.
We arrived in Chapel Hill around 0745 ready to take on this doctor's appointment - this was the most excited I have ever been for a doctor's appointment ever, for I hadn't seen some of the most wonderful healthcare professionals in a little over four months!
I felt like a brand new person walking into the clinic.
I took stairs in that building for the first time.
I signed myself into the appointment for the first time. {My father had always come in with me and had always taken care of this part so I could sit down and raise my healing broken-ankle up}
I literally smiled the whole entire time. Yeah, that is a big deal, because the first time I showed up to that clinic, dad and I were in there for over five hours with the doctor, the nurse, multiple residents, the cast-maker-guy, and the cast-maker-girl trying to force my ankle joint back into place; even the medications couldn't touch the pain. I am well aware that there is worse pain that what I went through, but let me tell you, this darn broken ankle has given me the most agony in my entire life.
I was called back for yet again another set of X-rays. This was my second time in the clinic that I was able to stand up for the X-rays instead of having to lay down on the X-ray bed.
This was the first time the clinic was able to see me walking with no limp in sight.
After the X-rays, a nurse came and brought my sister and me to my examination room. I took a quick bathroom break and walked back to the room. As I closed the door, I started 'dancing' a little bit; my sister looked at me kinda funny, but hey, when you break your ankle and can't bear weight for 12 week, you begin to realize what a blessing dancing can be.
This was the first time I danced in the clinic.
This was the first time my sister was able to meet my orthopedic surgeon.
It was funny because just a few minutes before he entered the room with the resident, the resident came in and talked with me for a little while and I told him that I am still having pretty limited range of motion. My Doctor came in and started wiggling my ankle, looking to the resident and explaining to him how my ankle has "so much range of motion." Let's just say, I was more surprised than the resident.
It's so beautiful when you come to that point in your life and realize that even the greatest storms can turn into amazing victories.
So here's to no more orthopedic doctor's appointments, even though I am going to miss those healthcare professionals who helped me through my darkest times.
So here's to continuing to travel uphill from one of the lowest moments of my life.
Life before a broken ankle was a little easier; I didn't have a limp, I was able to run and jump with ease, I didn't have to stretch my ankle, and running wasn't as much as an issue as it is now. Looking back at pictures, I can automatically tell you if it was taken before or after my accident, not because of my scar, but because of the way I hold my foot. I have lost a lot of range of motion, and am still working on getting just half of it back.
Would I go back to that cold February night and do something different, something that would allow me to dodge my accident, dodge my broken ankle and a totaled car? If I say yes, then I wouldn't have missed that whole semester of school; if I say yes, then I would be physically more able to do things that I am now; if I say yes, then I would have my Lucy and Remmie would be nothing but a dream in a cloud.
But if I say yes, all the wisdom and knowledge I have gained through this experience would be gone; the peace I have obtained, the humility I have learned to carry out, the positive coping abilities that have surfaced from this months-long experience . . . I would be a totally different person, the same person. So even though I would never want to go back to endure the pain and agony of that night, the next morning and the months that followed, I wouldn't change a thing. Things don't seem as bad as they were. Things could have turned out a lot worse; I could have been denied for the Charity Care at Chapel Hill and become even more of a burden to my parents; the external fixator could have failed, and I could have had to have my ankle fused; I could have decided that it was better to give up than to keep trying.
But God prevailed, and here I stand, thankful for the storm and the victory which God has so graciously blessed me.
Stay dedicated to God, and he will show you how beautiful the victories can really be.
