Defying Gravity
Everyone knows that if you throw a ball in the air, it’s going land on the ground. After repeated experiments and careful observations of the results, this fact is accepted as a scientific law. Sir Isaac Newton’s law of gravity guarantees that what goes up must come down. I am no scientist and I know very little about scientific law, but one thing I do know is that grief and trauma, specifically Spinal Cord Injuries, challenge the conventional wisdom of that law.
The central nervous system is comprised of the two main elements of your spine and your brain. In the journey of meeting and working with several neurosurgeons and other phenomenal medical professionals this year, I learned that the spinal cord is actually not the “smartest” of the system, it is simply the pathway of communication. Your body communicates a message, sending it up to the brain. The brain does all the hard work of processing that message then sends it back down through your spinal cord. When you have a spinal cord injury, the message gets caught up at the point of injury. What went up cannot always come back down.
The unique part of this past year has been discovering how interconnected the entire body is. The central nervous system is referred to as “central” because it is responsible for gathering the information from all over your body and coordinating it across the entire organism. I have spent a significant amount of time over the last 365 days learning the “new normal” of my central nervous system. I have learned that with many of my internal physical responses, there has been an external stimuli attached. For example, I have learned that without a good night’s sleep for more than 2 consecutive nights, my entire body will hurt – every nerve that is awake will communicate, every muscle will spasm, every bone will ache. Ironically, when you address trauma and grief in your life, it means that you may not always sleep. I have learned that on days where I have emotionally difficult obstacles ahead of me whether that be personally or professionally, my spinal fusion and lower back will uncontrollably tighten, my shoulders will tense up beyond release, and my reflexes will have an incredibly heightened response during that day. Consequently, that adds to the frustration of feeling “out of control” of my body and the responses continue to heighten due to the mental frustration. I have learned that though there are some areas that are still numb and inoperable as a result of the injury, there is an unpredictable and often painful awakening of the nerves when they decide to return to the channel of communication. This results in a fine balance of frustration and gratefulness between the mind and the heart.
What is even more interesting than any of the lessons I could have learned about the central nervous system is that I have also learned that grief, PTSD, and coping with trauma emotionally is really no different than experiencing a spinal cord injury. What goes up in the mind does not always come back down to the heart. Your brain knows many facts about the experience, but it cannot always process those facts. Your brain knows that you experienced great loss and that the events of that day were not your fault, but your heart has trouble accepting that. Your brain knows that there has been significant amounts of progress both emotionally and physically, but your heart has a hard time seeing the progress. Your brain knows that you cannot fix the fact that many people are still grieving as a result of that day, but your heart still hates it for them. Your brain knows that there is no deadline to recovery, but your heart has placed great expectations on the timeline of the process. With each element of this year, I have tried to accept the messages that the brain has attempted to send back down to my heart; however, there have been many occasions where my heart has continued to defy gravity.
In the past, when I experienced other year anniversaries, there was always so much more closure. Navigating through all of the firsts was finally over and, emotionally, I felt like I could move forward in the world that never stopped spinning. This year, so much feels unresolved physically, legally, and emotionally. That is definitely a new and difficult feeling for me. However, today, I have decided to spend the day anchoring myself to what I know is true. I am grounding myself in the reality that we have had many victories, even if they were wrapped up in sorrows. Today, I am aligning my heart with my mind in a way that will honor Tanya. Today, I will accept what my mind knows is true.
I will spend the evening with those that loved her best. I will stop and thank God for the those who carried us through this last year. I will rejoice in having received the best medical care I could have ever asked for. I will get on my knees in thanksgiving for all of the mountains that have been moved on our behalf. I will believe in the life that God allowed me to keep living that day. I will try to objectively measure the hard work and progress that I have made in my journey of recovery. I am so grateful for the documentation of that day together in Waco exactly one year ago. When I look back at the pictures, I am reminded of the joy and beauty of our experience together. Additionally, when I look back on the videos and images of the first few days in the hospital and those of me taking my first steps, I am reminded of the significant amount of messages that I have allowed in. When Josh and I review the year, it is obvious that we have come such a long way. I truly have worked so hard to catch what went up and to force it back down as a way of growing and healing. Today, I will believe in a future not yet seen. When I see the images of the vehicle and of the pieces left behind, I am reminded of the real gift of my life. Today, I will be grateful for the God of miracles. It is only in Him that we will continue to defy gravity.
