37 Nothing Accomplished by Agonizing
Recuperating at the Arias’ house meant I was on my own a lot and had a lot of time to think.
The doctor left early each morning and returned late at night, and his wife was often gone at least half the day.
This left me in the care of their maid, Berta, a dear Peruvian lady who had had some experience as a caregiver. Other than bringing me meals and bathing me, our communication was short and sweet.
This meant that I had an awful lot of time on my hands each day, and without access to English reading material or a tape recorder or a TV at first, I had a lot of time to think. Too much.
How many times I played the events over in mind: The door slamming shut, leaving me stranded on the street. Climbing to the roof. Stepping on the clay tiles. These tiles suddenly crumbling. Me catapulting to the ground.
”Should I have even gone on the roof? Would it have been better to …?” This scenario played out in my mind time and time again, as the introspection continued.
It finally dawned on me that I would accomplish nothing by this “What if” agonizing, let alone attempting to analyze why this had happened. It had. That’s all that really mattered at this point.
I just had to trust that somehow this was all part of God’s greater plan, and that there was a reason for it, and good would come from this situation.
Having to deal with very long days soon dragged into also having to deal with very long nights. My second night home, the phone had rang about 11:30 at night and unfortunately after that I wasn’t able to get to sleep.
This coupled with the fact that I got hit with extreme pain at 12:30 a.m., resulted in me being in agony the whole night and much of the next 24 hours, a long, painful, sleepless period.
It was the first of many to come.
The doctor left early each morning and returned late at night, and his wife was often gone at least half the day.
This left me in the care of their maid, Berta, a dear Peruvian lady who had had some experience as a caregiver. Other than bringing me meals and bathing me, our communication was short and sweet.
This meant that I had an awful lot of time on my hands each day, and without access to English reading material or a tape recorder or a TV at first, I had a lot of time to think. Too much.
How many times I played the events over in mind: The door slamming shut, leaving me stranded on the street. Climbing to the roof. Stepping on the clay tiles. These tiles suddenly crumbling. Me catapulting to the ground.
”Should I have even gone on the roof? Would it have been better to …?” This scenario played out in my mind time and time again, as the introspection continued.
It finally dawned on me that I would accomplish nothing by this “What if” agonizing, let alone attempting to analyze why this had happened. It had. That’s all that really mattered at this point.
I just had to trust that somehow this was all part of God’s greater plan, and that there was a reason for it, and good would come from this situation.
Having to deal with very long days soon dragged into also having to deal with very long nights. My second night home, the phone had rang about 11:30 at night and unfortunately after that I wasn’t able to get to sleep.
This coupled with the fact that I got hit with extreme pain at 12:30 a.m., resulted in me being in agony the whole night and much of the next 24 hours, a long, painful, sleepless period.
It was the first of many to come.
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