A few months ago my husband had day surgery, and I went with him for comfort and a ride home. I was ready for the waiting with a good book, yummy doughnut holes, and my portable walker to get me from point A to point B. I thought I was ready for the day!
Anyone who has taken a loved one for surgery knows that there is quite a bit of walking involved. Once we got to the hospital it didn’t take long for my husband to be taken to surgery pre-op. The walk to the pre-surgery room was not particularly far, so it was very manageable, and when they took him to surgery I walked back to the waiting room. It wasn’t a very long walk so my walker did me just fine., and I promptly found a comfortable chair and began to enjoy my new book. When the surgery was complete I was retrieved by a sweet volunteer who whispered that it was going to be a long walk to recovery, and would I like a wheelchair? No thanks I replied, I can walk and then I began making my way to the recovery room. As we made our way down each hallway exhaustion began taking up residence in my legs. Stubbornness dictated that I wasn’t about to ask for a wheelchair and sheer willpower was all I needed. Each step I got slower and slower, and the muscles in my legs got became tighter and tighter. My sweet volunteer again asked if she could get me a wheelchair, but my stubborn spirit was staying strong and after crossing half a continent, finally, we made it to my husbands room! Immediately the nurses became concerned and insisted I sit down and rest. My hubby was doing great and within an hour was ready to go home, and I was told to go get the car! Once again I was asked by a nurse if I needed a wheelchair, and can you guess what I said? BINGO!!!!!!!!
As I walked down the hallways (desert) towards my car I could feel my energy waning. There were several times I considered throwing in the towel , or possibly throwing up, but my stubborn self just wouldn’t give up. Even when I felt like I was going to fall and make a spectacle of myself, I continued to plod forward for what seemed like an eternity. Finally making it to my car, and the only thought in my mind was that of a large glass of ice water and a bed!
So, what is the moral of this story? Well, at first I thought it was just about being stubborn, but it’s really about being vulnerable. There are times, plain and simple, that we need help. Whether we are disabled or not, we need to take note of these moments. When I finally got home it literally took me two full days to recover as I was both physically and mentally exhausted! No more as I’m now approaching life with the mindset that everyone needs help sometimes, including me.
Do you find it difficult to take help?