I never knew quite how powerful the feeling of home would be. I’ve had little breakthroughs here and there about what home is, where it is, and even who it is, but I hadn’t really put much thought into it other than feeling that I finally had a home.
Last night I think I finally was able to take all of my past feelings and attitudes on home and bring them in to one cohesive feeling.
Last Monday night, I was in such excruciating pain that I couldn’t even stand up to go to the bathroom. My left leg had started to lose strength and sensation other than agony. I had no choice left but to call an ambulance to take me to a hospital. The first 24 hours there were super painful as they were just trying to find a way to manage my pain. The next was what felt like the fight of my life to convince them that I needed surgery then and not 2 weeks from then. Then, there was the actual surgery and recovery including taking steps that are scary because I can’t really feel the ground still with my left foot.
There is something terrifying and exhilarating about taking steps without feeling where you are actually positioned. I know there is some major spiritual significance to that statement, but I still have some morphine in my system from the surgery, so that will have to wait for another post. Home is what I want to focus on here. The biggest thing standing in the way of my discharge post op was having to climb up 3 flights of stairs to our home. I could have been discharged on Friday, but I couldn’t get my head past the 3 full flights, so, I delayed it until Saturday.
Getting in our car again for the first time in a week felt scary at first – like what if it hurt too much to get out of it – but then I realized I was focusing on fear, not on recovery, or joy, or home. Pulled up to our building and there was a parking spot right in front, waiting for us. Kelly helped me out of the car without any problems and slowly we walked to our home. We got in the front doors and took off my left shoe so I could have some idea of where the steps are and began our ascent home.
Each slow step brought me closer to a feeling that I had forgotten about in my 5 or 6 days at the hospital. Self care, autonomy, peace, freedom, love, comfort, and hope. I am home now, I have joy bursting inside that I’m home and am able to manage pain, but more importantly, can be myself again. I also had a moment last night of once I decided to lay down for bed that I just cried. I held it together so tightly when I was in the hospital so I could make sure I got the care that I needed, and once I really felt I was home, I just let loose. I didn’t even know why I was crying, but I couldn’t stop.
That’s the beauty of home. There aren’t judgments. You can cry, you can be a goof, you can be who you are without fear of repercussions. That’s why I’m so grateful that I have more than one home. I have the home I’ve made with Kelly – where ever she is, that’s my home. But, I have a church home as well. My church showed up literally for me while I was going through hell. Visitors, facebook messages, texts, and a general outpouring of love.
UVC is also a place of self care, autonomy, peace, freedom, love, comfort, and hope. I can’t be there today, but next week, I fully intend to be back at church home.