Just two days ago I had a third attempted surgical procedure on my tri-geminal nerve. Though it is a minor operation and out-patient, it involved general anesthesia. Unfortunately it was 'strike three.' If you have never experienced such pain as the disruption of this nerve can bring, consider yourself very, very fortunate. It is rightly referred to as the 'suicide illness' by some professionals, and though accurate, methinks this is a rather ill-advised moniker, it doth protest needlessly much, implying that suicide might be a solution.
The picture above, something of a 'red badge of courage' is a fairly pedestrian record of two IV attempts (the third on my other hand - shy of my life record of 5), and two bandages incurred from the day's procedure. The third, not pictured here, on my cheek. But I am not blogging this for the sake of pathos, or compassion.
Because I consider myself rather blessed, and full of gratitude to have this powerful sense of awareness, whether God given or naturally arising (is there a difference?), for all of life's vicissitudes. Though many of these have been quite hair-raising - losing a spouse to cancer, getting diagnosed with MS, having a son attempt suicide four times - looking back on them brings a warm sadness, the likes of which I might never have known.
Life experiences make up a patchwork of infinite love. Can we embrace it all?
