Sunday, March 1, 2015

Sometimes It's Quiet Courage

"Courage doesn't always ROAR. 
Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, 
I will try again tomorrow."

~Mary Anne Radmacher

Courage comes in all forms - from the mighty lion ROAR, when perhaps we have achieved something or we have done good in a situation.  But, a lot of the time, it comes in the form of a quiet voice, when things just don't go your way and you must summon all your strength to pick yourself up mentally and emotionally and calm yourself so that you can hear that voice in the dark recesses of your mind, a voice that sounds familiar but unrecognizable at first, telling you to just get through this day and you will get to try again tomorrow. A new day to try again.

I would say that since my accident, that roar of courage comes to me more often in the form of that quiet voice when I'm down on my knees mentally from a day (some days literally down on my knees) that just wouldn't let up abusing me physically, mentally, and emotionally. One of those days where it's just one thing after another, beating you down like a hammer to a nail.  Where you feel like you try and try and try and life just blocks your every move.

So far, my 2015 year has had a very rough start and making me nervous that it could be setting the tone for how the rest of the year is going to go. I had probably the worst year last year since the year of my accident. I had seven very hard surgeries last year ALONE, I made an extremely hard decision to have a double mastectomy which, didn't go so well putting me in the hospital for three weeks and enduring four surgeries in a timespan of two weeks as well as dealing with the effects of so much anestesthia is such a short period of time, having my body opened up and cut into, wound vacs attached to my chest which had to be changed every so often and anytime they messed around with the wound vac at the site, it hurt beyond the reach of pain killers. Everything hurt beyond the reach of pain killers so I was put on an extremely strong PCA - fentynol.

That particular experience that I had this summer truly tested my strength and courage. It brought me back to my original experiences in the burn center those first 3.5 months. And what got me through all the physical pain, all the emotional pain, the unknowing, the tears shed when my mother had to leave for the week, the tears of a familiar experience I never wanted to feel again, the stress, the anxiety attack was not a roar-ing kind of courage, but rather a quiet voice at the end of the day and thru every traumatic experience where I had no one to hold me and tell me it was all going to be ok, saying, you have the strength in your heart of a roaring lion.  And though you may not hear it's mighty roar now, the strength of that lion fills your heart, your soul, and you WILL get thru this moment.  You WILL get thru today and try again tomorrow.

So, even though courage may not come to you as a mighty roar after finally breaking a 7.5 minute mile after you blew out your knee and been in physical therapy, or finally asking out that special guy or girl you've haven't been able to stop thinking about but been too afraid to because of your low self-esteem, it may still be there in your heart, quietly cheering you on if you listen deep enough to find it. It's there. It's always there. Listen, and you WILL get thru whatever it is that is bringing you down and trying to tear you apart. Listen, and you will make it to tomorrow and you never know what good may come your way tomorrow making you glad you found and listened to your courage.

Peace and Love