Thursday, August 16, 2012

Dark night of the body and soul

Yesterday I learned that just because you are medically stable doesn't mean you can't have bad days, or nights. Bill came home because he is medically stable, hallelujah, but he wasn't his usual articulate self. I have in a way relied on him to understand what he needs medically -- he's a nurse, right? -- but when his illness or lack of sleep or pain medications cause him to be confused, I don't know what he needs.  It's like dealing with a baby, who can't tell you what's wrong. I called doctors twice, the hospital once, and got some information, but it still came down to, as one doctor said, trusting my instinct. My instinct wasn't as confused as Bill's, but it was certainly anxious.

At 3 a.m. he got out of bed, which he wasn't supposed to do, groggy. (I was a little groggy myself.) When he lay back down, he groaned for a while in pain. Someone groaning in pain is a hard sound; my loved one groaning in pain was worse. I thought, after a while, when he settled into silence and sleep, of the biblical psalms of lament, with their expression of rending pain and sorrow. He has the pain, certainly; I guess I am carrying the sorrow.

The light is here. All is not well, but it is better with my soul, and both of us have slept healing sleep. I cannot wait to get to the psalms of thanksgiving.

Blessed be the Lord, who has heard the sound of my pleading
The Lord is my strength and my shield, in whom my heart trusted and found help. (Psalm 28:8-9) 

(The image is of John of the Cross, the mystic who wrote about the dark night of the soul.)

1 comment:

Kelly Hughes said...

May each night be easier and more healing, Marcia, and each day, too.