Diary 9/19/19

This year, my birthday falls on the International Day of Peace. What a wonderful concept, and a marvelous stretch for humanity to reach for. May we arrive there one day. I had a deep conversation with my friend about her becoming a member of the Quakers during WW11. As you can imagine, the war was a hot topic for a spiritual community that espouses peace and favored Conscientious Objectors. Is there a right time to take up arms to combat evil? It is a good question to ask again and again. My friend fell on the side of supporting the war effort and was admitted to Quaker membership in spite of that exact split in her particular meeting. The Quakers here in the Oberlin meeting have a very large, honest umbrella which makes for a very diverse and interesting community. Peace is still a mutual front and center concern. In our last gathering, someone sang the song I learned in Girl Scouts many years ago, “Peace, I ask of thee oh river, peace, peace, peace…” Many of us sang along remembering the words as we went.

My body is not peaceful, my back has not been pronounced fixable by surgery, though I see the second opinion doctor again next week. I did not yet have my MRI disc in hand, so with new x-rays, he could only be sure of so much. Based on that, he said he thought surgery would relieve just the specific nerve impingement running down the outside of my right leg. This causes an annoying symptom, a numbing ribbon that includes my three outside toes. It is not the major problem for me. Pain and weakness in my whole lower back is. I liked this doctor very much and if I did do surgery, I would probably go with him.

I left his office realizing once more that my issues are not simple to address- they are a many layered cake. Muscle atrophy remaining from MS, arthritis, which this doc noted as more significant than my last surgeon, recurring bouts of inflammation, which, if not MS, may be caused by another auto-immune disorder, and mild spinal stenosis altogether create this dense confection. It felt as if I was again facing the reality that this loss of functional mobility is not going to improve very much. Reality always wins any disagreement I may have. Going forward is more about managing my body, and I am deep into exploring a variety of hopeful solutions to address the pain. Somewhat lessened already, I am swallowing new drops and using creams of various kinds that have mitigated the worst of it.

It is ironic that the idea of becoming a grandmother exacerbates the battle of accepting my condition. The grandmother who bounces the baby boy as she walks around and sings him to sleep, the one who easily picks up and puts down a squirmy little fellow for a diaper change, the one who chases after a giggling toddler is not the grandmother I will be. I cannot help my daughter with cooking or cleaning or doing errands for her. The grandmother I am is safely sedentary. The grandmother I am cannot sit up for long periods of time. Who Grandmother Judi will be is yet to be revealed and I am working on becoming more content to let the picture unfold as it will, and not as I will it. That leaves more room for joy, a much more delightful state of being in which to anticipate my grandson’s arrival.

Peace I ask of thee, oh river, peace peace, peace.

When I learn to live serenely, cares will cease.

From the hills I gather courage, visions of the day to be.

Strength to lead and strength to follow, all are given unto thee.

Peace I ask of thee, oh river, peace peace, peace.

Written by Quaker Gwyneth Van Anden Walker in 1947