I remember it as if it was yesterday. I stared into the mirror but didn’t recognize the reflection gazing back at me.
Who was she? How did she get here? When did it happen?
I had fallen into depression’s pit.
My productive life turned into a struggle for existence.
As I surveyed my bathroom vanity, the signs of my normal life remained: toothbrush and toothpaste, vitamins, makeup…but the motivation to engage no longer existed.
The radiation technician’s smile was comforting as she held my hand to steady me as I got down on the cold, hard “bed.” She very calmly explained each step of the procedure to me. She didn’t know my professional background, or that I knew the intricacies of this procedure. Nor did she know that I needed the assurances as a patient rather than a doctor that day.
“I’m going to leave you, but I’ll be able to hear you from behind the wall if you need anything. The machine will tell you when to breathe and when to hold your breath.” No sooner had she said that and I realized I had already been holding my breath, for what seemed like days.
Ever since my doctor informed me, “We need to run a few more tests to get a better idea of what’s causing your pain,” I had been holding my breath…waiting.
“What made you finally come in?” my doctor asked with eyes of compassion before glancing down at my chart. “It had gone on long enough and I couldn’t take the pain anymore. I had tried everything I knew to do and it wasn’t enough,” I replied, wondering if I was going to get a brow beating for waiting so long before seeking medical attention. Even as I said it, I thought about how often I’m like that with God: trying to do things on my own before ultimately turning to Him for help when nothing I do makes the situation any better. There is a reason God warns us not to depend on our own understanding—He knows better than we do.