When freedom means honesty, especially with yourself

Let's talk about the liberation of being sick. Or rather, the liberation of admitting you're sick.

First, that word "sick" isn't quite the right one. When I think of someone being sick, I think cancer, heart disease, something that is acute and life-threatening. My condition is not that. It ain't great, but I want to keep things in perspective enough to understand that I am blessed to live in a time when medical technology makes incredible things possible for me, and that others face wicked diseases that will test their bodies and minds and souls in ways that I can't even imagine.

But ... on some level, if you're not well, you're sick. And my particular situation, awaiting these surgeries, has made me realize that I am indeed sick. And there is great freedom in that.

I first really noticed this when I went to see my sister and brother-in-law last week in Houston. When I stepped out of the car, I had tremendous trouble walking through the grass. It jibes with something that I've noticed lately -- if I'm going uphill, or on uneven terrain, I crawl like a turtle. Hell, even going up a ramp is a little dicey. I knew this; you'd have to be in a pretty deep state of denial not to notice something like that about yourself. But for some reason, the grass got me thinking, and later I studied myself as I tried to lift my left foot off the ground. I say tried, because you might have needed some kind of laser device to determine whether there was actually space between the bottom of my foot and the ground. Hell, I can hear my shoes scuff along as I walk down the hallway these days. There's just very little range of motion up-and-down in that leg at all. And that's my "good" leg. (My shorthand for all this -- the left is strong but inflexible; the right is weak but more flexible. These are of course relative terms.)

This didn't happen overnight. But I felt free to admit it to myself. And then, I felt free to quit trying all the little tricks I've used to try to hide my immobility from people. Looking back, I don't have much illusion that these tricks actually worked, mind you. People are more observant than that. But I am more aware of trying them. For instance, trying to bounce up off a couch rather than use my arms to push up and twist my body into a standing position. Sure, no one noticed THAT.

Perhaps more than others, though, it's acknowledging to myself what's going on. Hell yes my left leg hurts; no, Doc, it's not just "stiff" like Mr. Stoic T. Badass tried to tell you. It aches a lot, even throbs some, and I'm constantly moving it to try to relieve it. And yeah, the world is a big obstacle course these days. And yeah, everything I do is wrapped up in a set of complex calculations about how comfortable I can be. For instance, what's the tradeoff between the difficulty of getting the most comfortable shoes tied and the need to have them on? And yeah, half the time, maybe more, I feel like I'm dragging the right leg behind me like Igor in Young Frankenstein. Oh, and yes, I can hear it grinding when I bend a certain way, and I can feel pops in the left side when I bend a different way and God knows if that's my spine or my hip or what but please Lord don't let it give out, not this time.

All of this is out there now. It's all out in the open, and there's a medical reason for it. And it can and will be fixed. There is so much freedom, even joy, in that. That's why I'm writing these posts, painfully specific as they may be. I want to share the hope, not the pain. (Of course, writing is therapeutic, too.)

And so, when people ask me if I'm nervous, the honest answer is no. Because I want what's on the other side so freakin' bad that there isn't much I wouldn't go through at this point to get it. Because now I can admit to myself, and others, the truth: How much worse can it be than what I'm already going through? And because now, I can see the sky, and not the barriers between here and there.

I'm going with Surgeon No. 1 (here's my account of my visit to him, which started the whole trip). I don't have any great reason for this, other than that I immediately felt comfortable with him, I believe he has great technical skill, and most importantly, I believe God led me to him. A friend told me today: If you have doubt about something, don't do it. But I don't have any doubt. This is where I'm supposed to be now, painful as it has been to get here.

So let's do this. Sept. 24. 12 days from now, it is on.