Sunday Morning Coffee Musings: Feeling Like A Ragdoll

I got sick my last day in Jamaica. I came home and thought I would get better. I wanted to make it to church Sunday because I had a guest speaker and it was her first time being there. I barely made it. I looked terrible and I felt that way. I called the weekend line for my doctor office and the doctor on call sent me to the Emergency Room. By the time I got there I was headed towards delirium. I had a fever and I didn’t know it. I wasn’t hot. It was 103. The pain was intensifying. I couldn’t fill out anything and I don’t know how I signed. They admitted me and it was discovered through tests and cultures that I had salmonella poisoning. I finally was released Wednesday and I came home, changed clothes and my daughter drove me to vote.

WHEW! BREATHE!

I’m one of the chairpersons of Women’s Month at my home church and this Sunday is the bake off. I realized no one had volunteered to bake and that the ones that would have, have left the church. So, I had to use my money, buy ingredients and push to bake in two days. My homechurch is under duress. It is slipping away due to extremely poor leadership. Nevertheless, I have survived. But I haven’t survived without doubts and questions. And I know that changes need to be made for me. I don’t have the capacity or desire to do it all anymore and frankly, I am starting to feel underappreciated. And I starting to feel as though I have wasted 6 years and I am continuing to waste my energy and time.

I have felt like a ragdoll the past two weeks. Tossed here and there. No strength. I wanted to say I didn’t have any emotions but frustration is an emotion. Feeling unappreciated is an emotion. I really didn’t wonder why so much as to why I got sick because I recall a sermon I preached titled, “How To Suffer Well”. I am happy to report that I did suffer well. I kept the best attitude I could keep. I didn’t take my suffering out on others. I set boundaries while I was suffering. I asked people to text and not to call. I am not a talker when I am feeling horrible. There are very few I can talk to when I don’t feel well that do not agitate me. I talked to my friend Jackie and some family. I didn’t want visitors but my sister and mom came anyway. They didn’t stay long and my sister brought me food. That was good. I prayed for others while I was suffering. I treated those that were caring for me with respect and I had a pleasant attitude overall. Even if one of them didn’t. I did my best. And I wasn’t even thinking about that sermon until today.

Does suffering well mean you enjoy suffering? No. It means you get through it in a way that doesn’t add to it so much. I will get through this Sunday with a smile, come home and cook dinner and rest. In fact, I will take Monday – Thursday to not be bothered but, to put my head down and orientate myself back to life and a flexible routine.

~Nikki