Back before my 'infirmity', I used to love to go hiking with my children. . .with friends. . .and sometimes alone with my thoughts. This photo reminds me of a rock formation atop Roan Mountain, near where I would often hike. It fascinates me how the earth seems to constantly shift, creating new landscapes and pushing what was once level ground into amazing shapes and forms. That is a beautiful act of nature, which I appreciate and enjoy.
Until my 'infirmity', I hadn't realized that scar tissue can grow in much the same way. . . .but it isn't so beautiful and is clearly not appreciated nor enjoyed. The short story version of my 'infirmity' goes something like this. . . .Went into the hospital for what was supposed to be a routine gallbladder removal. Having already been told that the gallbladder was so enlarged and calloused that it would need to be removed by conventional 'open' surgery, I was prepared for a four to six week recovery period. Not so. The selected surgeon repeatedly assured me that he could remove the offending organ by laser/laporascopic surgery instead, resulting in a mere three to four days of down-time. Hmmmm. He proceeded. Things did not go well. A metal clip was inadvertantly left inside, to play havoc with my abdominal region in the weeks to come. My liver was cut, by mistake, further complicating things. My lifelong low blood pressure suddenly became a raging, out of control case of hypertension. And the scar tissue began to grow. . .from the incision sites upward. From the liver to the base of my lung. From the lung to my aorta. And so on and so on and so on.
Now, I carry my own pile of rocks around with me, growing and suffocating all in it's path. Look like the world's oldest pregnant woman. Feel like I have 4 or 5 broken ribs. Can't function. And they can't treat it. The oldest scar tissue cells have surrounded parts of my heart and caused it to calcify. Not a pretty sight, nor a happy prognosis.
There are lawyers now, of course, and a painfully slow legal system which grinds at a snails pace, unconcerned that people's lives lie in the balance.
And, so it goes. I have my own private rock pile to climb. I'm trying.
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