Inside Bell's Brain

Never have I ever... had a green thumb.  Year after year I've tried to cultivate the habits and attributes of a good gardener.  But the truth is that I'm an imposter.  I use an app to tell me when to water my plants, I have no idea what the ideal growing conditions are for most of my flowers, and at the end of most summers, there are more dead plants than live ones.   But I have come to realize how much I enjoy it.  The older I get, the more I want to appreciate the beauty and variety of flowers and the more I want to put in the effort required to grow something with my own two hands.  A few weeks back, my mom told me that's a pretty common theme as we grow older... the need and desire to care for something beyond oneself... especially something in nature. I think my husband brings that side out in me too because I've long been a "city girl." But at least I take my head out of a book long enough to enjoy fresh air these days.   The truth is that we were charge

One of the most difficult “longer term” things about being incapacitated at this time of the year has been not being able to fully enjoy this opportune time to dive into fixer upper projects. I am a sucker for crafty stuff and every spring/summer I like to busy myself with these little projects and spruce up the deck, porch, and occasionally even the inside of the house too.  But since recovering, I mostly just sit. I’ve been so frustrated depending on everyone else for my care and not being able to do anything I deemed “productive”. Probably in the last two weeks or so, I’ve gotten back to walking for short bursts, especially if my back isn’t bothering me. I have also gotten comfortable enough that I can sit at the computer for a while or do a little craft if I already have all the materials at waist height. So the other day I had all I could take of feeling helpless and hopeless and wanted to busy my chubby little fingers. So I had my husband organize my materials for me on tables so

I saw something the other week while scrolling Facebook, and I can’t even remember what it was now... but I immediately realized that I needed to record a list of all the things I’ve missed and/or want to do when my recovery is complete. Celebrating my milestone 35th birthday in the hospital was NOT anywhere on my lifetime bucket list, but it has reminded me that things could have turned out way differently for me. And that I want to live the second half of my life much differently than the first. Some of these things are one time deals, some are just things I’ve missed, and some I may spend the rest of my life cultivating. But I want to do that with intention now. And I want it transparent so that my friends and loved ones can enjoy the journey with me or can at least cheer me on from the sidelines!   Take a ridiculously long shower... by myself Sleep in the same bed as my husband, especially without this tube coming out of my back  Go on the anniversary trips/vacations we had to canc

  One thing about medical trauma and/or prolonged illness is that you learn who your true tribe is. I suppose the same should be true for other tragedies in life (though for some reason, mental health issues still seem to scare most people away from helping and nurturing at all).  But it’s true. In any and all of those situations above, you learn quickly who you can depend on. You learn quickly who comes to your rescue in your time of fear and desperation. You see it in text messages and phone calls. You see it in dinners cooked and gift cards offered. You see it in baths given and rear ends wiped. You see it in tears dried and prayers offered. In visits, errands, deliveries, surprises... an endless list of acts of service.  But the 80/20 rule pervades even that. It’s true in life that 80 percent of the work is done by 20 percent of the people. And it’s also true, 80 percent of the things that need to be done in a situation such as this are done by a mere 20 percent of the people you k

  I had a conversation with someone a good while back in which we were celebrating someone else’s victory. The person we were discussing had recently received what appeared to be answered prayers!    My friend was so proud of and inspired by this person’s journey and how all this person has been through was always used to glorify God. We discussed how this person never lost faith and gave God glory throughout the entire ordeal. I thought a lot about that. About how publicly, this person has done and said all the right things. That’s genuinely admirable and certainly a trait to cultivate. I do not think for one second that this friend meant anything toward me by the statement - that wasn’t the purpose of the comment at all - , but as an introspective person, I was quickly convicted that the same compliment probably wasn’t being said about me somewhere. Instead, I have publicly and transparently struggled throughout my nervous breakdown, and now I am struggling through this new physical

I am exceptionally grateful to have gotten a good report today. I pray I am on the mend to a full and complete recovery, but there are so many things about this experience that I never want to forget. One of those things happened today before I ever got in the doctor’s office.   We arrived at the clinic, and the parking garage was an absolute nightmare. They have a designated drop-off spot for patients, but it was very confusing, so we just proceeded to the first available spot on the next level up. My husband carried all our accoutrements with us, so all I had to transport was myself and my walker (including all my pee bag tubes).   My walker. At 35. This has given me a glimpse into what it is like to need adaptive technologies. It has shown me what our elderly must go through daily, and I don’t ever want to forget that.  My husband tried to slow his long-legged pace and still stay far enough ahead of me to open doors and not let elevators close up before I could inch my way there. Bu