The Day of Surgery
The day of my hip surgery, September 3, after returning home, I was going up and down our two stairs, caregiving, and managing as if I had never had surgery. One week out, I canned salsa. The doctor had told me I would recover quickly because I was so active. When I asked about canning, he said I could do whatever I had energy for because my new hip was made to stand on. That’s why I was in crazy mode for the first two weeks after surgery. And it was crazy!
Reality Is No FUN! Getting Help Is
At the end of the first two weeks, reality descended. I fell into extreme fatigue and became depressed. I couldn’t shake the feelings of worry, fear, sadness, anger, resentment, powerlessness, etc. My hip began to bother me when I sat or when I first began walking after sitting. I was totally unprepared for this. It wasn’t what I was expecting after two fabulously energetic and pain-free weeks. What had happened?
Caregiving didn’t go away because I was struggling. Mom and Don still needed help with everything. My daughter helped when she could, but she works full-time, has four teens, one with severe CP. I had to keep doing what was necessary because life goes on. This was the reality of my situation, but how could I continue when I felt so unable to manage myself and my feelings?
I was desperate for answers. So, I did what I do. I prayed for help, resources, and thoughts. As I knew it would, help came. I received information from two trusted sources that let me know that depression is part of the healing process. The body uses all the energy it can to do its healing work, which leaves one depleted. Knowing this, that there wasn’t anything wrong with me, that I wasn’t weak, and was in exactly the correct place, helped me cope with how I felt, until the depression and most of the hip discomfort went away in late December.
A Thought That Made A Difference
Today, I want to focus on one thought that came to me, which I immediately implemented, even though it seemed odd. Then I’ll share the amazing clarity I received as to why trusting the thought and following through made such a difference at a very challenging time.
The thought was to open the hymnal on my phone and sing 1-2 songs each evening. Really, I was living a very busy caregiving life. I had just had surgery and was struggling. I didn’t want to add something else to my already loaded plate! But I listened. It was fall and warm, so I went outdoors at sunset and sang. I couldn’t always sit, so I would stand. It lifted my spirits. It caused me to smile. I have continued this simple practice. Eventually, I couldn’t go outdoors because of the changing weather, so I would sit at my desk in the bedroom or in the bathroom before my nightly shower. The fatigue and depression, although still there, began to be more manageable.
In November, they announced the church choir would begin practicing for the Christmas program. I had quit singing three years earlier. It was too hard to take Mom and Don home, feed them, and then go back for choir. But for the two hours we were at church that day, the thought kept returning. “Mary, sing in the choir.” “Join the choir.” “Don’t forget choir.” Finally, I looked heavenward and said under my breath, “OK!!”, in a frustrated voice. I took Mom and Don home and returned to the church at 3. It was a beautiful and uplifting experience! I hadn’t realized how much letting go of my music had affected me. I had forgotten how much I loved singing.
I was given a small solo, even though I had been gone for three years. Singing a solo was on my bucket list, and here I was at 75, doing it for the first time, after a three-year hiatus. A miracle. Singing daily in the evening and on Sunday with the choir was one of the things that helped my heart shed the burdens it felt.
The Christmas program was wonderful, and I did a good job. It was fun, and I was glad I had listened to my thought. The depression had gone, and I was managing well. But it didn’t end there.
On Sunday, January 18th, they announced there would be a choir for a larger church meeting held a couple of times a year. I knew the singers in this choir would all be better at the craft than I am. I don’t read music well, so I have to memorize my part, but I felt I would have time to do that. I really enjoyed the first practice, despite being in deep water. : )
Why Did It Make A Difference?
Driving home after that first choir practice, I was pondering the whole music/singing issue. Why had it made such a difference? Was it the singing itself, the music, being with a group, what? In that moment of thought, I got a download; it filled my mind and heart. It wasn’t about the music or the singing. It wasn’t about being part of something. It was the sense that I was caring for myself because I matter. I’m worth caring for. This is exactly what I know I am doing when I shower at night. I’ve been showering at night for over 30 years. Caring for myself is what I’m doing when I schedule those phone calls, walks, and the occasional lunch that I resisted doing for three years and recently told you about.
In each of these situations: creating regular connections with other women, taking a hot shower at night, singing in the evening, joining the choir, I was intentionally caring for my heart, my mind, my emotions, my healing, not just from surgery, but from the challenges of everyday living. It was mind-blowing and mind-opening. It made so much sense.
We all find ourselves in this place, maybe not from surgery or illness, but from managing a family, a job, and life. It can feel overwhelming. And we all must learn to manage the feelings this overwhelm can generate.
I mentioned some time back the story I’ve been dealing with for over nine years, “There is no time in my life for me.” I know it’s a story, but it hasn’t been easy to dispel because my life is packed with people to care for, and I gave up a carefully built career to take it on. In this moment of clarity, after that choir practice, I understood that the things I had been led to do by my creator were designed to help me care for myself, to say in a physical way, “I love you, Mary Ann. You matter to me as much as anyone!” The activities I have added to my hectic life in the last couple of years are making a difference, a world of difference.
No matter what your situation looks like, if you ponder and think about how you can care for yourself, thoughts and resources will come. Don’t dismiss them like I did when the thought came to create a group of women I could connect with consistently. Don’t dismiss them if they seem odd, like adding choir practice or evening singing to your already packed day. Don’t dismiss them if they seem frivolous, like scheduling walks or going to lunch once every three months. LOL
Every evening, I still shower, pray for someone, put on lotion, read a few paragraphs, and spend time alone. I can usually give myself 10 to 15 minutes. : ) I still sing every evening. I have my calls, walks, and one lunch preset so they actually happen. I’m diligently working on rewriting that old story, one God-given thought and then one action at a time. I’m sending the message loud and clear to myself,
