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Writer's picturePoppy J.

Third Time's The Charm

I never thought I'd be living "the best years of my life" in and out of hospitals. Well, I shouldn't be surprised; most of my young adult life has been through some of the world's most significant historical events. In this wrinkle of time, I believe I am living through my own most historical moments.


For the past four years, I have been silently battling recurring Chondroma Tumors. My journey truly began in late 2017 when I first noticed a lump in my right middle finger. Not only did I see it, but I felt it. Chondroma tumors are indescribably painful and only removable via surgery. Throughout the first half of 2018, I slowly lost the use of my hand. Writing - negative. Grasping things - no. Bending my middle finger - never. Pain - constant.


Doctor's visit after doctor's visit, test after test, surgery after surgery to continually battle the same sickness. 2017. Tumor. 2018. Surgery. Rehab. Tumor. 2019. Surgery. Rehab. 2020. Tumors. 2021. Tumors. 2022. Surgery. Rehab. Living in constant pain is suffering every day, trying to make it to the next one, wondering, hoping your pain will somehow go away tomorrow. I would try my hardest to be "normal," but living over 1,000 days in constant pain does something to a person... eventually.


I would pray until I couldn't talk anymore, cry until my tear ducts were dry, and wish on every star in the sky for a mere minute of life without pain—


"Have mercy on me, Lord, for I am faint;

heal me, Lord, for my bones are in agony.

My soul is in deep anguish.

How long, Lord, how long? Turn, Lord, and deliver me;

save me because of your unfailing love."

Recently, my doctor surgically removed the largest tumor yet out of my hand - and decided to take a few tendons with it. It took weeks for my mind to catch up with my body, realizing that my hand wasn’t in constant pain anymore. Of course, rehabilitation therapy is a monster to conquer, but to wake up, go to sleep, and hold anything in my right hand without pain is a feeling I almost gave up. I look back on Psalm 6: 2-4 and remember where I was four years ago when the battle first began.


I believe the true testament in times of grief lie in a person's ability to rely on God. Everyone says that God gives his toughest battles to his strongest soldiers, but in my opinion, God allows events to happen in our lives to help mold us into his strongest soldiers. When the water is hot, the house is flooding, and you can't get your pants off the ground, who is your guiding light, and do you have the courage to confide, trust, and believe in God through it all?


An interesting thing about life and its trials and tribulations is that we don't know how long the battle will last; I mean, sometimes we don't even know how to fight. For instance, I feel amazing now, and I'm making leaps and bounds in therapy, regaining the use of my right hand. But who's to say my battle is even over? A girl like me can only hi-five Jesus for getting her through and hope this is "Third Time's The Charm."



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