The weekend was a splendid time, indeed. But the wretched knee gave me almost no respite the whole weekend. Every single time that I would put weight on it, I could almost count on that “gonna’ let you down if you’re not careful” blinding pain. Even the trusted pain killers did not help a whole lot.
So while I went to the convocation, spent time with family, held my wonderful grandbaby, helped with things at Daniel’s parents, made potato salad and burger bean bake for the grad party, went to Grad, went to the party, made gallons of sweet tea and then went to church on Sunday morning, I struggled mightily with the kind of pain that makes the tears so close to the surface that it seems like they will spill over at any given moment. I did a lot of hobbling, lots of standing still, lots of holding on to anything I could find to hold on to, and lots of just escaping somewhere by myself.
There has been so much joy in these last ten days, so many answered prayers and so much to be grateful for that I continually was thanking God for His kindnesses to us. Somehow it felt like giving this pain any space at all was to be holding a sandwich sign that said, “Wait a minute. Things really aren’t so good, after all. What about my knee?” And in the dark of the night, as I contemplated the future and what it holds, I would find myself over and over again saying to the Lord, “Thank you that you know the end from the beginning, and this dry, middle land, too. Help me not to be afraid. Help me to endure this as a good soldier of Jesus Christ. Help me to know the best way to take.” And most of the time, I must admit, that prayer was just two words. “HELP ME!!!”
Before we left, a series of injections had been scheduled to begin this week. I went in yesterday to the Orthopeadic Associates of Southern Delware and tried to “Think Positive.” The PA is the best shot giver that I have ever known, and he came in with his cheery, balding self and asked how I was doing.
“Actually, Henry, I’m not so optimistic this morning.””
“Well, at least you’re honest.”
“Yes, well.” I said, as cheerfully as I could. “I want to ask you something.” I stood up and pulled my skirt up above my two crooked, swollen knees and said, “Do you REALLY think these injections are going to do any good? If it is too late for the right knee, is it possible that it will do anything for the left?”
“I actually do,” he said. “If I didn’t think it could make a difference, I would never do it. I think it can help.”
“How soon will we know whether it is going to do any good?” I asked.
He wrinkled his brow and said comfortingly, “Well, you might not know until near the end of the series. Sometimes it takes that long.”
“How will I know if it is effective even then?” I asked, my heart feeling very, very quavery.
“Your pain will be better. It might even be gone.” And he proceeded to give me the Sinvisc© shot. It did hurt, but Henry is a wonderful conversationalist, and I’ve found that if I can engage him in conversation about some interesting subject it is a great distraction for me. He and his wife adopted a little girl from China some years ago, so adoption is always a common ground, a subject good for lots of distraction. So we discussed adoption — ours, his, and now Eldest Daughter and Beloved Son in law’s, and before I knew it the shot was over, and I was on my way.
“H-m-m-m-” I thought as I made my way out of the examining room to the checkout desk. “This knee doesn’t feel half bad. I wonder . . .” I paid my co-pay, and went out to the van. It was definitely feeling better.
The good news is that the very first injection has helped me so much. I can hardly believe it. It’s aching this morning, and my leg is very tired, but that terrible pain that was so unpredictable is definitely better. Sometimes I feel it a little bit, but I didn’t have to hold onto counters to get around when I fixed supper last night, and it continues to feel so much improved.
I am so grateful. I cannot stop thanking the Lord for all his benefits to me. I don’t know if it will last, I don’t know what will be over the next few days and weeks. But to have some hope is like a breath of fresh air. Please continue to pray that God’s will would be done in this situation, and that I would be a faithful servant even (especially!) in these days while I’m waiting to see the outcome of this course of treatment. Dr. Spieker tells me that if this doesn’t help, the only recourse is a knee replacement. I’d like to put that off as long as possible.
Thanks again for all your prayers, your concern, your help. I feel like our family has been unworthy recipients of blessings wrought through the faithful intercession of the family of God. I am humbled, blessed and so grateful.
Thank-you! May the blessing you’ve been to us come back to bless you a thousand times over.
Edit: My Mama’s blog has been updated: