I should have known. I could have seen it coming. Maybe if I were being honest, I would have prepared better. But I didn't. I didn't want to think about it; didn't want it to be true. I tried ignoring it and making excuses, but it caught up with me.
The past few weeks as the numbness in my legs has gotten worse, there have been some changes. Little things started showing up that I knew weren't normal. Occasionally I would take a step sideways when I intended to go forward. Seems my brain and legs aren't on the same page always. Lately, there have been a few times when my "good" leg seems weak and rubbery and wants to give out. I have caught myself and brushed it off to the shoes I was wearing or because I got up too fast or because I wasn't really paying attention while I was walking. The truth is I haven't been too steady on my feet. I have thought many times that it is time to use my cane again to help steady myself, but then I think that I will be fine and I've come to far to go back.
There have been other, more concerning neurological symptoms that let me know things aren't working properly. (no details here!) All of these "little" details should not have been overlooked, I know. The truth is that it is scary and painful to realize that I am losing some abilities that would normally be taken for granted. I don't want to admit that it is possible to need help walking, or worse yet, that I may not be able to continue to do so at all some day.
Last night, it caught up to me. The rubbery legs, numb feet and lack of coordination resulting in a fall on the way to the bathroom at 1:30 am. Reality check--heard: loud and clear. I am very thankful that besides a sore hip and a swollen big toe, I suffered no major injury...except to my ability to remain in denial. Time to fess up. Things aren't so rosy and I need to be more careful and take precautions to prevent the falling before I really do get hurt.
I don't know what the future holds. None of us do. I may be totally healthy in 5 years and this could all be a distant memory. One of you reading this right now could be unable to walk and in a wheelchair. I find strength and comfort in Christ, but I also find loving arms to melt into and just grieve. Grieve some lost hopes and dreams, just for a little while.