This coming Sunday marks the end of my six months of “disability.” Or at least the end of my being able to park in handicap parking spaces. My tag runs out on January 19. And truthfully, I don’t really need it any more. I can walk across a parking lot if I don’t get a spot near the door. It’s time to give up those spaces to someone who needs them more. (But I’ll admit I’m a little spoiled. Like Saturday night in the pouring down rain when we went to the movie at Ridgeway Four and got a handicap spot right near the door.)
It makes sense. Last Tuesday I had my six-month check up at the neurosurgeon’s office. He said I no longer have to wear the neck brace (yea!) and I’ll start physical therapy for my neck soon. I’ve been finished with physical therapy for my leg for several weeks now. I still have pain. Every day. But walking is good for me, so I’m happy to give up the handicap tag.
Stress and uncertainty, on the other hand, don’t seem to be helping. Here’s where the stress is coming from:
We’ve been leasing a home here in Harbor Town (neighborhood on the Mississippi River in Memphis) for two years. Our lease is up this coming Thursday, so we’ve been looking for another house for a few months now—one with a downstairs master bedroom—and we want to stay in Harbor Town. We had found a wonderful house with everything we need (and love) just down the street, but the owners told us today that the house they were trying to buy out of town just fell through, so they aren’t ready to sell or lease their Harbor Town house to us.
It was about a month ago when we looked at it and told them we were definitely interested, so this came as a blow. Our landlord is being very patient, but he wants to sell this house, and we don’t want to buy it, for numerous reasons, but mostly because it doesn’t have a downstairs master bedroom. (Two months sleeping in a rented hospital bed in my downstairs office brought about our commitment to that.)
So… we don’t know where we’re going to be living in a few months.
And… my husband is having rotater cuff surgery on February 13. Yes, one month from today. (He fell on the ice on our front steps a few weeks ago.) Neither of us can lift things, so we’ll be hiring packers for our move. Once we have a house to move into. And he will be facing up to a year or more of rehab after the surgery.
As a Christian, I was taught that God doesn’t give us more than we can handle. So I guess we can handle this. But I admit to being anxious. It’s just hard to turn the brain off with so much uncertainty on the horizon. I know I wrote about some of this last Monday, but that was before I knew we didn’t have a place to move, so my anxiety level is definitely up. And yes, I’m trying to remember my “word” (mindfulness) for 2014!