I am going to my pain management doctor today to have a nerve block procedure. I think this is the sixth time. I don’t want to keep count. The first time I had the procedure, I didn’t know what was going to happen. I was anxious. The doctor gave me all these rules to follow and prep instructions. I took them seriously and followed them exactly. The day of the procedure came. It wasn’t that bad. I went in and laid on a table, they started an IV, the next thing I knew I was sitting in a recovery room.
The procedure followed that same routine for a while. Then last year everything changed. They didn’t give me any instructions. I went and they just gave me an oral drug that relaxed me. I felt the doctor giving me the injections in the back of my head. Then, it was over. The same thing is happening again this year.
I feel uneasy because of my OCD. They changed the procedure on me. I had started to feel comfortable knowing what would happen and now it is different. The situation is a great lesson in life. I can never depend on anything to always stay exactly the same. The only constant in life is change. I might get nerve block procedures for the rest of my life, but I might not. I have been getting colonoscopies since I was twenty-nine. I think I am familiar with how they go, but they might change, or technology may develop, and they could create a new test for colon cancer.
I guess there’s something else I should acknowledge that changed a couple of days ago, too. One of my aunts died. She was in my life a lot when I was younger, but she had a falling out with my mother. I had not seen her for years. I always treated her with love. I told her that I loved her. She told me she didn’t like me because she thought I thought I was better than everyone else. She called me a liar whenever I told her that I loved her. I wish I could say that I felt something about her death, but I don’t at least not now.
She represents my difficulty with my family and probably my difficulty with all my brothers and sisters in general. I have the love for them and I am willing to give it to them, but I don’t know how to give it to them. I want to be a generous and kind person, but all my life whenever I reach out to people, they act like she did. I truly feel like a alien trying to communicate with a species that speaks an entirely different language.
I will continue to try. Today, I pray for my aunt. I hope that in her death, she finds peace and I hope that we all find God’s peace as He continues to guide us on our life’s journey.
My faith saved me. May God’s peace reside in all of our hearts.
