20/7/11
The day that I walked into the doctor's office in the hospital with thoughts of, "i should be able to grab my MRI results and go to work. shouldn't take too much time" was replaced with "I have what??"
My natural instincts took over, and pray was all i could do. "Lord, please help me. I cannot do this alone. I know You are in control. Not my will be done, but Yours". my defense mechanism worked its magic. I sat there, composed... doing what a rational person would do. asking further questions about causes, risk factors... seeking for answers that couldn't be given to me at that time. then it struck me. Could it be genetic? another question left unanswered.
all this months of struggling with my emotions, it happened again. all i could say was... i'm concerned. when really, i knew i was scared. but i pushed the fear of the unknown aside. i surrendered myself to God, but i knew that i was still struggling. struggling to take this information in. it hadn't sunk in yet. all i could do... was hope.
as i look back, i think seeing the clinical psychologist at that time did not achieve its purpose as i was still in shock, and my defense mechanism was working at its optimal level., plus my inability to express my fear made it seem that i was composed.
driving back, that was when it hit me. "did i just go to the hospital and was given a diagnosis?". And i remembered, "i need to do more tests so they can be sure how to treat me". it was surreal. a sense of loneliness began to creep in. during my nap, i dreamt i was searching for hugs to comfort me.
as day turned into night, my challenge became more difficult when i found out more information about the diagnosis, and i realized i really had no physical person... a Christian, i could turn to. rejected by a family member who found it more important to rush to watch a movie. rejected by an accountability partner who had nothing to say and was tired. rejected by a friend who shocked me by asking, "why are you upset", as though i shouldn't be. rejected by another whose first words was, "i'm not intending to break my fast".
desperate, i debated with myself. "she doesn't share the same faith as i do, would she be able to comfort me?" but i could take it no longer, and i dialed her number.. as usual, my strong mode took the lead. showing no initial signs that i needed help by asking her how she was and what she was doing... but then, later... all i could say was, "i need someone to talk to. i have no one". to my surprised, she said she would come over. I knew she would listen, but i didn't expect her to do more than that. what was more, she stayed with me way past her bedtime. her presence was a gift to me that night. she knew that i didn't only need someone to talk to, but someone to be there for me.
As i reflected. I wondered what was the difference between what she did as compared to the others. Yes, the others said they prayed for me, and i appreciate that. and I was told again and again that God will comfort me. true, i believe with all my heart that God will comfort me, but only one person reached out and became the instrument of comfort. she was indeed, God-sent.
waking up today, it still feels surreal. i'm still scared.. but i'll try to be hopeful and cling on to God. but please, don't just push the responsibility to God to comfort me and wash your hands off my case.
a hug would be nice....
