Monday, June 28, 2010

Early Morning Wake-Up Call

12:32.  I awaken to cramps seizing both feet and moving up the back of my right leg.  I slip out of bed and put on my fuzzy purple sipper-socks, which always seem to help calm the cramps, then hobble into the bathroom.  I fumble for the Tums and pop two into my mouth.  The flavor is Tropical Chalk.  The only thing worse than cramps is the remedy.

I crawl back into bed and try to relax.  I’ve trained myself to concentrate on relaxing enough to get to sleep, and usually that takes my mind off the cramps.

Tonight I think about my sweet auntie whom I have just visited in the nursing home.  The expression on her face suggests that she is in pain, but it is hard to tell the source.  Where does she hurt?  Can she find her call button? Can she tell them where she hurts?  How can anyone help if she can’t tell them? 

The cramps wake me again at 1:16.  I shuffle into the bathroom and take another Tums, then return to bed.  While I settle I think about my aunt.  Does she hurt right now?  Were her tears today from physical pain or something else?  I wrap the arms of my heart around her and lift her to Jesus.

In another 45 minutes I find myself again headed for the Tums.  In the morning I will need a jackhammer to clear my mouth of the chalk build-up.  “God of the universe, You know where she hurts.  Comfort her tonight; calm her spirit and relieve her pain.”

And now I sleep.

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