Healing is a Journey
This past year has come with its many challenges, but at the same time growth came in ways I didn’t know was possible. I took a big part of this year to decrease my load, take off a few of my many hats, and just focus on healing my brain. After suffering from many concussions without allowing myself the time and space to recover, I decided it was time to let myself properly heal. Man, what a journey that has been.
As I continue to go through this healing journey, I have found that healing happens in phases. Phases of hope, of extreme pain and discouragement, progress, and backtracking. The fluctuating seasons of faith are right there alongside me as well as I navigate how to manage my symptoms and carry on in order to find my new normal.
Last summer, right before my unit’s annual training, I had to stop all forms of physical exercise due to my doctor’s recommendation. This about crushed my determined, “high-speed” spirit. I had to adjust to “sitting on the sideline” instead of jumping in for things like loading the truck for gigs, setting up equipment for our ACFT, or even marching in hot parades. Although I was pretty crushed, I am very grateful to my command team for making these accommodations to prevent my injuries from getting worse. I am lucky to have Senior NCOs who look out for their soldiers like that.
Going into the school year, I had to navigate a new routine of rest instead of training hard to max the Army’s new Combat Fitness Test, socializing with friends in the student center, or playing frisbee with my friends in Catholic Studies. Not only did I have to learn how to ask for help, but I also had to learn how to actually receive it. I had to be diligent in following my frustrating restrictions because when I pushed it a little too far, I would really suffer. This, for me, was the hardest for me to adapt to.
Dealing with recovery was a tough way to start my senior year of college. Abandoning the other responsibilities I once held months before, I was now only focusing on school and the endless weekly PT, OT, and brain doctor appointments. The most discouraging part was the pain levels seemed to only be increasing. I was dealing with headaches, dizziness, sensitivity to light and noise, neck damage, and pinchy nerve pain shooting down my arm due to my first rib being raised. Sitting through band rehearsals, walking around campus with my heavy backpack, sitting through class lectures, reading for daily assignments, or even walking around a store would make me feel very sick. I had to train my nervous system to get out of the constant “fight or flight” response and back into “rest and digest”.
As the year went on, I was starting to lose hope that I would ever feel better again. I was angry at myself for letting it get to this point. I was discouraged and losing sight of the greater purpose of my suffering. I wasn’t able to do the things that brought me the most joy, and I was struggling to figure out new things to take their place. It was hard to sit out, and it was hard to put on a brave face when I was in an environment that physically hurt to be in.
I am grateful for the time and space I have had to rest and receive, which proved to be quite the transforming experience. I am grateful for the support I have had on this journey toward healing. I am grateful for my parents who helped me get the care I needed, my team of doctors who kept me pushing, my friends who came to endless appointments with me so I wouldn’t have to drive home, and my community for their continued prayers. There is something so powerful about uniting your sufferings to the Cross and having people in your life who remind you of that power when you are losing the strength to keep pressing on. This would’ve been so much more difficult without all of the support I’ve had. Although they couldn’t take away my pain, they could be with me in it and reminded me that there is still so much hope to hold on to. The Lord had a greater plan for the suffering I was enduring in those moments.
As spring blends into summer, and I finish my semester of “lasts”, I have also begun to complete a few “firsts”. These small victories like my first run in almost a year, or a rehearsal that didn’t make me cringe in pain, I am able to hold on to as I reflect on how much healing the Lord has done for me already, it all just happens in His timing. It was easy to lose sight of the good days that weren’t as painful as the next hard days that followed. The inconsistency of symptoms towards the middle of this semester had me sailing on waves of discouragement. I am now able to recognize that this year which seemed too daunting because of the pain was meant for a greater purpose. The Lord was using this year of rest to not only begin my physical healing, but to also restore my trust in Him, deepen my understanding of His merciful heart, and remind me that my identity is not in my pain, but in Him alone.
Looking back now as I start to feel better, it really doesn’t seem like it was all that long. Funny how that works. At the moment, it seemed like an eternity, but now I have officially “graduated” from PT, and I am able to start the baby steps of getting back to physical training, and doing more of the things I enjoy. Praise the Lord for the healing He has done and the healing that is still to come!
