by Susan Lipstein
This was my summer for surgeries. The first was to fix my
cervical spine. The need for it was clear; recovery was surprisingly speedy.
The second was the controversial one--to replace my arthritic hip. The cautions
from good friends and physicians in deciding whether or not to have the surgery
ranged from, "This should help you walk better" to "Because of
your underlying Multiple Sclerosis, you may never be able to get out of a
wheelchair and walk again." The decision was overwhelming. But after much
thought and discussion with friends, professionals and family, Steve and I
decided to go for it. Deep down I knew I'd work hard to regain my strength and
walk again, better than before. In the end, I had to trust myself and what I
know to be true.
The hip replacement surgery went well, taking less than an hour
and a half. That afternoon in my hospital room, as is
often done, I went for a short walk, not a wheelchair ride but a walk, with my
new hip. It was almost anticlimactic. There was no mention of the weeks of
discussion and worry. There was never a question by the hospital staff about
whether or not I would walk. Of course I would. That's what people do, walk
with less pain after a hip replacement, even on day 1.
Only in retrospect did I think once again about the importance of
being still and looking deep for that quiet voice that has always spoken the
truth to me. That voice had been telling me that there was no way I'd end up in
a wheelchair after surgery. I had heard it but brushed it aside when presented
with alternative outcomes.
Our Jewish tradition teaches us that during this month of Elul we are to spend time each day in silence. This is a gift. It gives us the
opportunity we seldom take, to become still and listen to that voice I believe
is within each of us.
But this was the obvious moral of the
story. What happened beginning with the first day of the first surgery is what
continues to touch me. Hours after surgery a friend and physician at the
hospital stopped in to see me and see if I was ok, if he could do anything for
me. Both friends and family have continued to check in with me daily, send
cards and emails, flowers and plants, call on the phone, bring food for fun and
sustenance, chocolate because they know me well, stay with me while Steve gets
his much needed exercise, and just spend time with me to visit, share stories,
and laugh, empty handed other than with the very important gift of their time
and caring. The lesson I'm learning from my friends is that sharing yourself in
any way that works for you is what makes true friendships and giving. What's
important is to be present, even if I do so with nothing in my hands.
During this month of Elul, we are to participate in acts of tzedakah
and loving kindness. As is true throughout the year, these acts don't have to
be huge or require a lot of money. It may mean just showing up.
Susan Lipstein and her
family moved to Clayton in 2000. She currently works as a Parent Educator for
Clayton Schools' Parents as Teachers. Community interests include The
Scholarship Foundation of St. Louis, The Spirit of St. Louis Women's Fund, The
National Multiple Sclerosis Society, Teach for America and College Bound. Susan
is dedicated to children and their families and to excellent, accessible, and
equal education for all.
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