August 23, 2016
One week ago I had surgery for a total joint replacement on my right knee. I am not yet one of those people who says, “it was the best decision I ever made. I wish I had done it sooner.” Right now I simply follow the doctor’s orders and the exercise regimen of the physical therapist, and trust I will get to those feelings soon. Between the pain, the bruising, the swelling, and the underlying support of effective codeine laced drugs and the weird dreams they provide, this is a time for rest and recovery, for not expecting to accomplish much of anything, and the accompanying frustration for someone who wants their life to be of use. It feels as if I have put my life on “Pause.”
The surgery was elective. I spent over a year trying alternative treatments, building up my core strength, getting shots in the joint, and waiting for insurance approval, with a short detour to recover from a broken foot last February. I scheduled the surgery around significant events this summer--being able to be present and participate in my 50 year High School Reunion, take a vacation in Puerto Vallarta, and attend my daughter’s magical wedding in Hawaii. Each trip had its special joy and I am filled with love and the blessing of great memories with friends and family. I also wanted to have recovery time before resuming a writing class in September. The goal is to have improved mobility, relieve the energy draining constant pain, and develop stamina to take daily walks (with a bit of weight loss thrown in).
Although I chose the surgery and determined its timing, there is that uncomfortable element of giving over control. The patient has the easy part, sleeping soundly once the anesthetic kicks in; it’s the surgeon who needs to be having a good day. I put my trust in the medical community, and continue to do so in my recovery. This is not a time for heavy thinking, or much reading for comprehension, but has become another part of accepting the journey of aging, retirement, and continual self-discovery. While the consistent need for my presence and support in Larry’s health care has reinforced our marriage covenant, it has also placed my sense of self in relation to the world on pause. This time of healing reaffirms an earlier decision, a response to an awareness of my isolation and need for community.
I am preparing my heart to pick up missing pieces of my identity, to affirm my relationship with a loving community, to offer a ministry of presence. While watching the lined and peace filled faces of those coming to the altar for communion, my heart opened to our common desire; to be known, to be loved, to be nurtured, to be remembered in a family of faith. Soon I was in conversation with Peter Perry, lead pastor at First UMC of Olympia, remarking on the importance of holding dear these faith-filled saints, which surprisingly lead to an offer of a quarter time position, beginning October 1st (knee willing), providing pastoral care. My own surprise in all this has been my lack of doubt that now is a good time to reach outside of the cocoon of retirement, to re-engage in my call to be of service, to offer love, understanding, compassion, and grace to others.
