It’s only been a week and I’m at defcon 4 frustration level with the recovery process. Hating this sling:
Hating my damn repaired shoulder:
Hating the fact that the damned Percocet works, but makes me feel sick and gross.
Hating the fact that the damned shoulder exercises hurt like a m————, but probably works pretty well, too.
Frustrated, tired, uncomfortable, with my shoulder buzzing like a cloud of hornets.
I trust in You to make something of this. Something you can use. Something I can use. Something worthwhile. The dr was not kidding when he said the recovery process would be painful. It has been on several levels.
I guess feeling this way is just part of maintaining faith in a world where faith doesn’t make sense. Where I can sit on my couch at 0344 and bitch, when some really hard stuff is going on in the world.
But in the interest of full disclosure, God doesn’t always take stuff away. Sometimes you just have to get through the bad stuff, and take comfort in the fact that no matter what your level of conviction, inspiration, or faith, Isaiah 42:3 is still true and you will get through it. I’ll get through it.
a bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out.