Disappointment can still end in beautiful...

This past weekend was a big one for me... and I mean a really BIG one, and it came just at the time I maybe most had needed it to.

I didn't have the best of weeks last week; the heat was too much, I'd taken a few falls and I'd had a very disappointing appointment with a new Neurologist who had gently explained to me that even though my diagnosis of Guillain Barré Syndrome has, indeed, finally been confirmed... the window for IVIG treatments perhaps shortening the course of the disease has been missed. The treatments will not help me at this point and now it remains a matter of waiting for the nerves to finish healing on their own which she said is likely to continue taking years yet. She told me not to dwell on what didn't happen when it should have but to just keep positive and working my way forward. So much easier said than done.

Another thing I learned in my appointment is that my left hand is also not yet properly following my brains instructions which is something I kind of knew but I really had only thought my writing abilities had been lost so it was a bit of a shock to me when my hand wasn't answering the doctors questions of movement correctly. Before the GBS hit me I had equal strength and coordination with both hands, so much so that I couldn't even tell which hand I written something with though I favoured (and still do) my left hand. I always pour, stir, reach for and eat with my left hand but I have noticed that since this disease happened I still automatically do all those things with my left but often need to correct with my right hand. I just hadn't realized how down I was left-wise until this doctor did movement testing. I almost cried after she said the right hand was working well and then had me try with my left only to gently notice that "Hmmm... that's a little bit harder, huh??" It was embarrassingly ridiculous that I could not make my strongest hand follow simple directions and it was one more thing I didn't need to have to admit I was struggling with.

And so, it was a down few days which was also hard because I don't get down in spirits... ever. And I didn't even recognise myself for a couple of days and it just sucked so bad. I think I'm just getting to a point where I am almost through and then there's just more waiting and working than I think I can even begin to handle. The prospect of more years where I am physically right now is just something I don't want to have to deal with. It's annoying, it's boring, it's embarrassing and it's beyond frustrating. And for a minute, I let it get to me.

But then came yesterday.

I have been practicing, really hard, on walking with just one of my Stix over the past couple of months and yesterday that hard worked paid off... for about two whole minutes and a whole heartful of gratefulness. I am not so filled with pride that I will hurt myself in rushing healing, mostly because I have already tumbled in the trying to do so which means that I do realize and I do make myself take both Stix when I am going into stores or anywhere else that may be crowded and I know I will need the extra support in staying safely on my feet. But, for little bits (when chaperoned) I have been trying to become more confident in allowing myself to try with just one in smaller situations.

Yesterday, we took a little camp walk and when Enz tried to pass me my second Stix I just shook my head and said, "No, thank you..." because I wanted to try in the quiet of the camp road to walk with just one. And off we all slowly went; Enz with the boys and me following along behind.

Then, once I was safely up the driveway hill and onto the flat roadway, I walked holding Play's leash and Enz held Day's though both boys, as usual, were happy to check everything out together.

Once we had made it up the hill to the main road I made a sudden decision, I wanted to reach my main goal in healing... right then. I asked Enz if I could hold Day's leash, too. The road was clear of cars and we were surrounded by nothing but soul-filling, strength-offering forest and it was time to try what the boys and I have been practicing in our back yard at home these past months. Enz just quietly passed me Day's leash and then slipped back behind us for a few steps to watch until he was confident we were safe together.

And then I asked him to go in front of us, mostly so I could see that he was closeby to help if I needed him to but it also offered another little test for the boys and I, all three... as Enz jogged past us, the boys were absolutely golden in keeping close with me; they didn't lose attention to my pace, they didn't pull to go with their much faster dad but instead remained calm and in full concentration of my quietly spoken reminders. My boys are my heroes!

We didn't make it very far or very fast, we ended up only getting in half of our normal walk to the boat-launch before I began to exhaust but I felt exhilarated over the tired as we turned back at the top of the big hill I knew I wouldn't make it back up if we had continued down. It's all about compromise, I've learned and doing too much these days is far worse than admitting that only a short walk might be too much.

My whole goal since first becoming paralyzed has been to walk both of my boys together, on my own. Yesterday, I did just that. It may have been on a quiet back country road, it may have been for a mere two minutes, it may have been slower walking than molasses runs... but I did reach my goal, for even just the tiniest of times on a real true walk.

Reaching my ultimate goal, even as fleeting as it was, really helped me to again decide not to just give up. Sometimes giving up seems the only option in my mind but I am fortunate to always seem to find the 'keep going' reminders that God tucks away inside of me for exactly those moments he knows I will be needing them.