I was talking to my mom tonight (who currently also suffers from this ailment...perhaps it is genetic...), and she told me a story about when she was a little girl and had to get her appendix out. My Grandma Ruth carried her to the back door to say good-bye to her brothers and her father before heading up to the hospital for surgery. My grandmother kept a stiff upper lip, because, as she years later recounted to my mom, "Your father's bladder was behind his eyes!" Apparently, he cried a lot.
That is about as perfect a summary as I can imagine for how I am feeling tonight. Overall, we are doing well. We have shaken the Dooby Dooby Flu (at least I think we have - I'm feeling a little achy and feverish, but we're keeping our fingers crossed and our minds in denial), we are slowly getting back into the comfort of a routine, and there are several blessings right around the corner to celebrate. But, I have to admit, it has been a long winter. It has been one trial after another. My bladder's been behind my eyes. I will be doing fine, cruising along, and then suddenly the most minute thing will trigger an emotional pain so uncomfortable I swear it is physical.
I had some great news I wanted to share with my Gram. She would have loved this news. I don't know why I feel the need to mourn so much because I can hear exactly how the conversation would go if I could call her up and tell her now. I can recall immediately the sound of her voice, and I know what wise advice she would give me. But I still wish we could share that moment. I ache to have that conversation with her.
I am still working on B90X (reading through the Bible in 90 days, but I am clearly on the modified version of the program seeing as I am only in Psalms...), and today I read the verse, "Weeping may last for a night, but dancing will come in the morning." I know this is true. I can already see the beginning of the dawn breaking. I have great hope, and I know each day will bring a bit more light.
But tonight, my bladder's behind my eyes.