Friday, March 5, 2010

A New Adventure

Something that my ileostomy nurse, Phyllis, said to me in my hospital room on that dreadful day when I was struggling to cope with Yeti, has stuck with me every day since. The weight and overwhelming realization that my life was never going to be the same, or at least the part that dealt with my bathroom needs was greatly altered. {*note to unassuming reading: this is going to contain some potty talk.} Going to the bathroom used to be so simple. I never appreciated the simplicity of eating whatever I wanted nor my body's automatic digestive process ending with sitting on the toilet, wiping, and flushing, not even having to look at the output in the bowl. Life was so simple.

Phyllis had finished instructing me about "the bag". I listened and acted interested but all I wanted to do was close my eyes and not wake up again or wake up to find that it was just a horrible night mare. So I closed my eyes but when I opened them I was still in a place that I wasn't excited about and the tears came. Phyllis was surprised. She thought she did something to hurt me. Finally, all I could say was that I was having a hard time mentally dealing with the bag. She was so funny and said, "oh, you're having a moment."

With great care, wisdom, and compassion she explained exactly the feelings I was experiencing, which made me cry more. Then came the pep talk. She explained that we're all on this amazing experience, life. But I'm on a new adventure. That's all it is. An adventure. It's not the one I wanted or asked for. But it's the one I've been given and it's still an adventure. And it'll be what I make of it. And she said a few more things about other people's adventures. But my mind stood still on the thought that I love adventures.

I grew up with three brothers and an adventurous father. He took us out all over the Arizona deserts and mountains to explore, climb, and discover. I had many great adventures. I remember once we were near the Superstition Mountains north of Apache Junction for the day riding our motor cycles. Us kids had one little motor cycle to share between us so while we waited our turn we explored. I was always hopeful that I would discovery a new cave or sight that nobody had known about. That day I actually came across an old abandoned dug out cabin or some kind of dwelling. Maybe it belonged to the Lost Dutchman. It was exciting.

What a blessing Phyllis and her talk of adventures has been to me. And now while I look out my windows and see all the green hills and snow capped mountains I can't wait to climb to their tops.
For another {uplifting} story about mountains click on this. I loved what was said about the difficult climbs. “To appreciate the height, you must experience the bottom,” he says. “You can’t appreciate the end without understanding the process.”

1 comment:

Amy Strong said...

Nola, you never cease to inspire me. Will you be my friend forever so that I can have eternity to grow and learn from your perspective?