Almost six weeks

This morning as I was continuing to ponder the idea of a grief vessel, I thought...

The grief vessel holds not just losses, but also love.

And then I read from Coryell's book, "Hidden in the shadow of loss is the power of love..."

What does that mean, "the power of love?"

For a moment, I felt elusive; the phrase held no substance. And in the next moment...

Sacrifice. Sacrifice is love. The "power" of it saves another.

My immediate thought was of Jesus Christ, the sacrificial lamb for all humanity...

*sigh* One of my sore spots with the scriptures and a question that was never answered to my satisfaction when I was a believer. Why is bloodshed required for redemption? 

But I'm not thinking of that kind of sacrifice, the kind where one entity demands sacrifice of another, like where God commands his son to sacrifice himself or humans to sacrifice animals. But rather self-sacrifice, total benevolence, an action taken out of totally giving of oneself to save another, which, according to the scriptures, Jesus also did in order to "save" mankind from separation from God now and later. Again, according to the scriptures.

Which brings to mind Jesus's sacrifice from a René Girardian-sort-of angle, as a revolutionary or activist whom the community murdered as a scapegoat for its ills, the sad outcome of extreme greed from those whose only concern is their own advancement or that of their own pure ideology. Who is saved in such a sacrifice?

My next thought was a mental image of a headline I'd read in the morning news. Something like "Mother pushes child out of car's way and dies; child lives"...

That's the kind of sacrifice I'm thinking about. Her sacrifice saved another life. Isn't that the "power" of love? 

*~*
Recovery from this revision hip surgery has been really rough.

As my hip continues to heal, the nerve damage continues its normal course of worsening as I get farther away from my last epidural.

I worked with my head on "this" before surgery, but I don't know how well I'm doing with "it." "This" and "it" refer to the fact that most often when a person goes through this type surgery, they will feel better as a result, as the recovery continues to progress.

That is not the case for me. I knew that going it. I know that now. It's a really, really hard reality, and depressing.

But, there is the hope that as months/years tick by, I might feel a difference. And, if not, we at least stopped the development of bone necrosis and the spread of metallosis.  I keep telling myself that.

The surgery has "set me back" in the immediate, as far as the nerve damage. One reason (and only one), is because other parts of my body have to compensate for the functions of my surgical leg as it recovers and regains function. That can be rough on any body, especially one with widespread nerve damage.

I've had to temporarily (which feels like forever) give up one of my top relief remedies -- riding my bike. It not only relieves the physical, but also the mental and emotional challenges that come with my body's dysfunction.  And I miss my pet sitting. Both riding my bike and pet sitting give me purpose and meaning, and they help my confidence.

Tomorrow will be six weeks from surgery. It feels like three months. I also knew that going in -- how time goes s-l-o-w-l-y in these blurry, isolated weeks.

On an up-note, I was able to drive for the first time this past Saturday. That means I can get out of the house independently.

My friend and temporary caregiver, Joy, left on Wednesday, 9/28. Hubby took off work and stayed home on 10/06 and 10/07. So this is my first full week home alone through the day hours. But not really alone because the physical therapist will come see me three days. Plus I can drive now, as my energy allows.