“You’re really fragile right now, Cassie. Seriously, I know you feel strong, but the only thing strong about you is your heart and attitude. I’m not kidding…”
If anyone knows what it’s like to get a tongue lashing from a neurologist, I feel your pain. Although the appointment was weeks ago, I can still hear the doctor telling me what I don’t want to hear.
I hit my head several weeks ago, and the resulting wound ended in a CT scan and the nerve wracking four day wait to see if I had inadvertently jarred my epilepsy into action. Epileptics and head wounds are a toxic combination. Though by the power of God the test results came back clean, I was reminded once again of that ugly, deprecating truth.
Yesterday, God woke me up to that reality, and somehow, I walked away with a smile on my face and a pained giggle on my lips. I may be incredibly fragile, but God apparently wants me alive. Keeping me alive is not an easy task; or so I’ve learned in the last two months.
Although Epilepsy is the disorder that makes me “fragile”, every once in a while, my Cerebral Palsy has to make a guest appearance. It’s as if that little blessing is set on a timer. When the timer goes off, my cerebral palsy gets three minutes to scare the livin’ crud out of me and remind me it is the other disability that exists in my ever-adventurous body. Isn’t that just sweet?!
Randomly, Cerebral Palsy can cramp a person’s muscles to the point it feels as if that leg, arm, or hand can no longer work. For me, it’s always my legs. Yesterday, that temporary muscle deficiency happened at the top of a flight of stairs. I proceeded to roll down 12 stairs hard and fast.
My head didn’t get hit once.
My body at this point and time looks like I got thrown off a cliff. But my head wasn’t touched. Actually, I wasn’t bleeding at all.
I may be fragile. I may make doctors nervous (I know I do). But for whatever reason, God protects the fragile ones He’s created.
Knowing that makes the bruises worth it.