"Necessity is the Mother of Invention"

A couple of weeks ago I was trying to hang pictures on the wall.  No matter which way I grabbed the nail, as soon as the tip of the nail touched the wall, it fell from my grasp.   There is nothing more frustrating than trying to do something and having it fight you every step of the way.  Trying not to mutter unladylike words under my breath, I heaved a big sigh.  "Necessity is the mother of invention"~Plato (or maybe it's Aesop - it's up for debate).  It's a phrase I find grossly annoying but so very true when it comes to dealing with physical limitations brought on Charcot-Marie-Tooth disease.

 

Ok, to be perfectly honest, losing that ability was frustrating as hell. There is just no other way to describe being able to do something one day and then having that ability stripped away the very next day.  So how do I deal with it?  I do what any normal redhead does.  I stomp my feet, I throw a tizzy, I bite my family's heads off if they offer to perform the task for me, I go and beat the stuffing out of a pillow, and then I get back to the task at hand.

Do I feel sorry for myself?  Not generally.  Maybe it's because I vent my frustration "extraordinarily well" (LOL) at the moment something happens, which makes it easier for me to move on.  It's also because my family and friends have always pushed me with the "in a room full of people, I'll take mine" attitude since this disease reared it's ugly head over 20 years ago. 

For me, I think what keeps me pushing foward most of all, is hanging onto Isaiah 40:29-31
"He gives power to the weak,
And to those who have no might He increases strength.
³⁰ Even the youths shall faint and be weary,And the young men shall utterly fall,
³¹ But those who wait on the LordShall renew their strength;
They shall mount up with wings like eagles,
They shall run and not be weary,
They shall walk and not faint."

In the grand scheme of things, life on earth is short.  One day I will run again and maybe have races with my kids.  One day I will be able to pick up small objects again.  One day I won't have to worry about my arm twitching and causing my food or drink to spill.  One day I won't be self-conscience about how atrophied my hands look.  One day is a day I look forward to.

Until that day of wholeness arrives, I choose to try not to be frustrated at what I can't do and focus on what I can do.  Until that day arrives, I choose to live life by plastering a smile on my face even though it would be easier to fall into a deep well full of griping, moaning, and crying.  Until that day arrives, I choose to improvise and keep moving forward the best way I know how.

I put that nail in the wall all.by.myself.  After mumbling and grumbling under my breath when I dropped the nail several times, I realized that while my fingers may not be able to hold that nail anymore, my hand can hold a pair of needle-nose pliers, which can hold that nail long enough for me to pound it into the wall.  Within a minute or two, that picture was hung.......... and it never looked better.

Written by Christie Bielss