Points of crisis never come planned. As mentioned in my previous posts about my writing journey, I had gone through surgery and then we started the process of moving. As soon as I was given permission by my doctor to lift over ten pounds, our journey took an unexpected turn.

I found myself in shock, with blood running down my hands and arms, alone and shaken. I had managed to call my mother-in-law and husband before I realized how bad it was, and then my fingers were in too much pain to call 911. And my voice was too strained for Siri to understand my verbal request.

Fortunately, my mother-in-law had called 911. She arrived after the police and before the ambulance. The first thing she did when she walked up and saw me was lie down and put her feet up. She said there’s a reason she’s not a nurse 😏

Fortunately, I had no broken bones. But my hands and wrists were wrapped and swollen. Of all the body parts I had to injure, it had to be my hands. What irony as a writer. In reality… when you face the inability to do what you love the way you’re used to …and ply on top of that needing to pack boxes and move furniture, the need to do day to day things, the struggle of anxiety, depression, and ptsd, it gets hard. Boy does it get hard.

But as all things do, it came to pass. I have the use of my hands and fingers again, thank God. And, I’m now more thankful than ever for the opportunity to do what I love–write.

Have you faced a crisis that has made you even more thankful for something you love? Are you actively doing what you love?

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