Abilities and Disabilities

So…can I tell you something?

I’m disabled. There. I said it. It’s not a thing that I want to have been said.

And, no offense to you, it’s not a thing that I want to tell you.

It’s not a thing that I want to be true.

During the spring and summer I had quite a few doctor appointments and tests, and I found myself struggling to get to them.

Of course I didn’t want to go to them, who would? I also repeatedly found myself at the far end of the incredibly long parking lot at Heywood Hospital, trying to figure out how to get the the front door, and in the case of my pain doctor’s office, all the way through the hospital.

I had been using a cane, and that helped. What would have helped even more would’ve been a handicap placard. With my face on it. I think my late mother-in-love’s placard is still floating around my car but I’m a bit of a paranoid rule follower to go that route.

I need a handicap placard with my name on it. I asked my doctor to fill out the forms and she did. My clinical diagnosis is fibromyalgia and osteoarthritis. The duration of the placard to be issued? She placed a big, black check in the “permanent” box.

Well, dang.

I know it’s going to be okay. I have a deep and powerful sense of God’s purpose for me, so it’s not that I feel useless.

Having cared for my parent-in-loves to the end of their lives, I knew without a doubt how inherently valuable and precious they were, and that caring for them was a privilege. Not that it was always easy, I’m not going all Pollyannaish here. It was worth it. They were worth it. God installed that straight into my heart for them, and so, lo and behold, it’s also there for me.

I think it’s my pride. Brian bought me a pretty cane. I need it for longer walks. I’m trying to work up the gumption to go for a walk in my neighborhood with it.

It’ll happen.

I am not powerless. I do many things to strengthen my body, and to make my gut happy, because there’s a incredible ecosystem in there and it influences so many places in the body that it has been dubbed “the second brain.”

I did manage to heal my gut from chronic diarrhea, which I’ve had for over nine radiation therapy for uterine cancer. I used a combination of probiotics, hooray for kimchi and kefir, and lots of fiber to keep the probies well fed.

I am not powerless. There are ebbs and flows to my pain and weakness. I have options. Choices. Avenues. Solutions.

I am also disabled.

There. I said it.

Brain Fog, or His Power is Made Greater in my Weakness

“But He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” 2Corinthians 12:9

One of the most difficult things for people with chronic illness to deal with is brain fog. According to the Autoimmune Research Foundations website, brain fog is the “loss of intellectual functions such as thinking, remembering and reasoning of sufficient severity to interfere with daily life.”  Brain fog can be triggered by physical, mental or emotional trauma, mental illness, chronic physical conditions, some medications, cancer and/or cancer treatments, etc.

In real life, what this translates into is mild, occasional confusion, losing thoughts and words in the midst of conversations, momentarily  forgetting how to accomplish common tasks or having difficulty working out minor issues.

In my life, as a chronically ill person and cancer survivor, brain fog is my new normal. Although it’s not actually new. I’ve lived with chronic depression and clinical anxiety for most of my life. My childhood is made distinct not only by how many memories I have, but in how many memories I don’t have and memories that I’ve  never had.  Up until a few years ago, though, I was fairly good at compensating for my losses. I could effectively work around any issues that I had, and was able to still carry on a fairly coherent, intelligent conversation.

Then came cancer. And large doses of radiation. And the the joys of instant menopause.  Now I write all my pertinent information down before making calls to medical centers, banks, insurance offices, etc. Because it’s entirely possible that I’ll forget something important, like my doctor’s name or my child’s birthday, and the dear hearts on the other end of the line only have so much time for guessing games – “Oh, it’s the one at Heywood, he operated on my colon…you know him, I think his name starts with a Z, or maybe a W. I think he’s Polish, or maybe German, no, wait, it’s Krasowski! Dr. Krasowski!”

Last month I forgot how to French braid Amanda’s hair. I’ve been French braiding hair all of my life. I’ve been doing Amanda’s hair for at least three years. Still, for a period of about two weeks, I just couldn’t get my hands to make the appropriate movements, I literally forgot how to do it.

This morning I braided her hair without incident.

Whew.

I understand where the brain fog is coming from. It doesn’t often worry me. For every bit of information that I forget, I continue to learn and incorporate new skills and information into my world and daily life. I’ve moved to a new home, new town, new country, and I’ve adapted well. Most of my forgetfulness is momentary. Irritating, frustrating, even humiliating. But not dangerous.

Still, living with brain fog hasn’t been easy. For most of my life, one of my areas of pride has been my mind. I’m a learner. I like being smart, in the areas of life that I am smart in. It’s humbling to have to struggle to put a coherent sentence together. I feel embarrassed. Even ashamed. And yes, I do sometimes feel anxiety about the health of my mind and memory in the future.

Bible verses, like 2Corinthians 12:9, remind me of aspects of God’s character that comfort me when I am feeling humiliated, insecure or ashamed of my weakness. I fully believe that God’s strength and power are made evident, maybe even released, through my weaknesses. Where I shine, I shine. Where I am dull, God shines. Does that mean that He fills in my blanks? That when I forget things, He gives them to me so that I don’t end up looking so foolish? Sometimes. But most of the time, God’s power is deeper than that. He could intervene and solve my memory problems altogether. What He has been doing in me instead is creating in me a heart of compassion and patience. He is humbling me, helping me to grow accustom to the idea that value and worth exist apart from intelligence and mental acuity. He is pulling the roots of my self sufficiency out of the “Accomplishment” bed and replanting them in His newly prepared, well nourished bed of Love for me. I am worthy because I am loved by Him. There is a powerful, untouchable security in that.

The fruit of that kind of security is sweet. The heart grows softer, more tender. There is less impatience, because there is more understanding and acceptance of weakness, one’s own and that of others. Shame turns into a simple awareness of one’s faults, forgiveness is received freely and with gratitude, and is meted out in equally generous measure.

I am human, of course. It is so easy to get frustrated and angry, or anxious as I find myself struggling or unable to accomplish familiar tasks. The Bible often encourages us to remember who God is, to praise Him for His character traits, His goodness and compassion, His power and might. God does not ask us to do this because He loves to hear how great He is. He asks us to praise His goodness because we need to remember it. We need to remember Him and who He is. I need to remember, every day, that His power is made perfect in my weaknesses, because I am weak on a daily basis.

It is hard to express how deeply grateful I am for God’s work in me. I stand amazed, everyday, at His extravagant love and compassion for me. I am learning to embrace my weakness even as I nurture and care for my mental, physical and spiritual health. I am committed to learning to take care of myself, to build up my strength and to be as healthy as I can be. I want to be a good steward of what God has given me, and I trust God to work in the areas that I cannot control.

I am grateful that I am not in this alone, that there is One that knows me better than I know myself. I rely on God, I am learning to trust Him more and more each day. And when brain fog hits me and I repeatedly enter the wrong PIN number, or forget to take a needed medication, or struggle to braid my daughter’s hair, I am grateful for peace in the midst of the frustration and embarrassment. God says to me, “You know that you’re more important than your ability to remember your phone number, don’t you?”

And happily, astonishingly, joyfully, I can answer Him, “Yes! Yes, I do know that! Yay!”