Leaving Strong
One and a half week ago I laid in bed for forty eight hours. Doctor ordered bed rest. I had been struggling with back pain for three weeks. Clearly injured my back somehow. It had been getting mostly worse. To the point that I had stopped exercising and began to think through most moves. “ Could I or couldn’t I do this move without pain?” It was becoming chronic and I was becoming frazzled. Undone. Loosing hope of being well. My family pondered if we would be scooting through airports with me in a wheelchair with our rapidly approaching furlough. The Monday after resting in bed all weekend, I felt much better, but extremely cautious. That day Darron whirled in and out of the house with millions of things on his mind and hundreds of assignments and loose ends to wrap up before his early morning departure on Tuesday. I watched him in disbelief at all he had left to do and recognized that my hinted at (but not posted) “honey do list” was falling beside the wayside. Also I was