Where did that come from?

Earlier this month, I had a video consultation with an orthopedic surgeon. In September 2023, I fell getting out of the tub at Jessica's house. It was during the time that Jess was in the hospital and I was at her home helping to care for the children. I often didn't have time for a tub bath, but that night I did. I love to soak and relax in a hot tub of water, especially when my day, or rather my life, has been overwhelming. Everyone had gone to bed, so it was a very quiet time. As I was getting out, I slipped, twisted and fell on my right arm. The pain I felt at the time was so excruciating that I thought I would pass out. I didn't want to call out to my son-in-law as I was certainly not "decent" since I was just getting out of the tub. 

I figured I had strained muscles before, and all I needed to do was ice it and take some ibuprofen. I might be sore in the morning, but I was sure I could work through this. 

Well, that night and the days and weeks that followed did not prove to be pleasant. The constant pain I had was sometimes unbearable, but I had to keep going because I felt that my daughter and my grandchildren needed me. I got used to doing any lifting with my left arm, which proved challenging when caring for a 6-month-old baby. I armed myself with ice and ibuprofen around the clock in some cases. I didn't speak about it very much at all. After all, my pain paled in comparison to the suffering my daughter was experiencing. 

That being said, it was over a year after Jessica died that I was able to get to the doctor about it, even though I had managed the pain with medication and exercise, and was functioning fairly well. An ultrasound confirmed the tendon tear, and I was referred to the surgeon, who "coincidentally" was the same well-known surgeon that Jessica had initially seen when she fractured her arm.

This surgeon had been so kind to her, and while he saw her just the one time, then referred her on to an oncology orthopedic surgeon, he had called her personally while she was in the hospital to check in on her, which I felt was incredibly kind. Even in her appointment with him, he laid out the possibility of a cancer diagnosis, but he also provided reassurance that it could be other things. I'm sure he knew that the diagnosis was likely osteosarcoma, but he chose not to instill panic in her at that time. I looked forward to seeing him. 

The consultation was actually a year away. I certainly was doing better, so I wondered if the appointment was even necessary, but I kept it. Originally, it was an "in-person" appointment in March, but when the call came for a virtual option in January, I jumped at it. 

The session went well, and Dr. A. essentially assessed that I likely didn't need surgery and that I should keep up the strengthening exercises I was doing. It wasn't until the end of the appointment that I explained who I was and how he had cared for Jessica. You could tell he was trying to place Jessica in his memory; after all, he sees hundreds of patients a year, I'm sure. Then he asked if she had a fracture in her right arm. When I told him yes, you could see he recalled her case. In our conversation, I explained that she had died in March 2024, and there was silence. He explained that he felt emotional over the incredible loss we had endured. He identified as a parent himself, just how unthinkable losing a child must be. 

He was very kind, then he said something that I now believe was the voice of God. 

He said, "Are you thinking you would like to help people going through a similar grief?" Of course, I replied that, yes, I was, but I didn't feel I was able to yet. Then he said, "You need to take time for yourself to work through this. To have some healing before you can support others."

I was blown away! Why would an orthopedic surgeon want to first ask that question and second, speak into my life about my own inner healing? 

To some, it may seem random, but this man obviously has a heart of compassion. I wondered afterwards if he was a Christian, and maybe he was, but nonetheless, to me, God used him to speak to me. 

For so long, I have been busy during Jessica's illness and then since her death. It is my nature to be busy. To fix things so when opportunities came about for this course and that course concerning my grief, I jumped on them. Afterall, creating meaning in all of this pain would have to be helping others, right? 

Well, creating meaning and helping people is a good thing to do, but you can't pour from an empty cup. In Isaiah 40, God speaks to the Israelites in captivity, offering them hope of restoration. 

"He gives power to the weak
and strength to the powerless.
Even youths will become weak and tired,

and young men will fall in exhaustion.

But those who trust in the Lord will find new strength.
They will soar high on wings like eagles.
They will run and not grow weary.
They will walk and not faint."

Isaiah 40:29-31

He also wants us to experience soul restoration in all seasons of life. I am weak, tired, and powerless, so He will give me power. I can fall into exhaustion in body, mind, and spirit, but because I hope in Him, He will find new strength for me.

Will I soar high on wings like eagles? Maybe not literally (although that would be amazing!) Truthfully, right now, I cannot fathom that scenario in my near future. It seems almost impossible to me. 

But isn't God the god of the impossible?  

Well, I guess my answer to some of the plans I was trying to make is to wait. Little did I expect that direction when on a medical consultation about a physical issue. God certainly does work in mysterious ways.