Holding back the tears

I feel like lately I've been walking through a hail storm without any form of protection whatsoever.

First it was the tooth, then the ovaries, then the pelvic fracture. Someone told me bad things happen in threes, so I would be good-to-go soon. I thought that was only true for deaths, but I liked the idea of my woes coming to an end, so I chose to believe it. Too bad.

I had my follow-up x-ray appointment yesterday morning to make sure my fracture is healing. I guess I was hoping I would be some freak of nature and heal in half the time it takes average humans; I was hoping my doctor would look at me and say, "Looks like you will get to run the Chicago Marathon after all!" Instead, Dr. H chose to dash my hopes with a few simple words: "You're still broken."

Hold back the tears.

I asked him when I could start running again, and he said at least another four weeks. I thought I had just hallucinated, so I had him repeat himself. Oddly enough, he said that dreaded time frame again. I informed him that I really wanted, nay, needed to be running in about a week or two, tops. We clearly weren't seeing eye-to-eye.

"You do realize this is kind of a big deal, right? I mean, this break is pretty serious and one that typically take a long time to heal."

Ugh. That whole "long time" statement really wasn't working for me. He told me to come back in four weeks for another follow-up appointment. Oh, I guess he really was serious about this four-week thing.

However, he prescribed me some physical therapy about which I am pretty excited. It's at a place called the S-G Alter G Center, where you can run on an anti-gravity treadmill that is specifically designed to reduce one's body weight and help with existing injuries and injury prevention. My first session is today right after I get off work. I can't wait to run! I mean, I never really liked gravity, anyway. (I'm only kidding, so calm down all you Bill Nye fans.)

The other piece of bad news I received yesterday is a bit more serious, because it involves my uncle's life. I was at dinner last night with some of my friends, and they were really helping take my mind off of the fact that I was so down-in-the-dumps about not being able to run—and they are all runners, so they really are a special bunch. Anyway, my mom called, and I didn't answer because it was too hard to hear. Then my brother called. Then my mom called. Then my sister called. I started to get worried, so I sent my sister and mom a text that said I was at dinner.

"Call mom when you get a chance."

"Is it serious?"

"Yes."

Uh oh.

I immediately got up from the table and called my mom. As soon as she answered, I knew it wasn't good. I could hear the tears in her voice. She told me her brother was in the hospital, had open heart surgery and was now pretty much fighting for his life. This is my uncle with whom I communicate every single day. We have been in e-mail correspondence for years now, and I enjoy updating him on my life and hearing about his, as well. He keeps me informed about my cousin and her precious daughter, and I love all of the encouragement he gives me, as well. I didn't have an e-mail from him yesterday morning, but I figured he was having computer troubles, because that has happened before.

Not the case this time.

When I woke up this morning, I knew I wouldn't have a note from him, but I wrote him, anyway. I don't know what's going to happen to him, but all I can do is pray. I don't want to lose him. You see, my uncle isn't quite a believer, and I think I was the only person who ever regularly talked to him about Jesus. But I don't think I'm finished telling my uncle about the Lord yet. What if he still doesn't know His love?

My parents drove to Longview to go see him. He is the last person left of my mom's side of the family, and I know this is tearing her apart. She absolutely adores her brother.

Breathe. Pray. Repeat.