I am Wolverine Woman.

This was initially a surprise to me, as it may be to you, but the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. Let me back up a bit and fill in some gaps.

Over the past few years I have been tutored in the world of super heroes. Bit by bit I’ve gained knowledge about one or another of the multitude of super heroes out there. In fact, it seems the past few months I have learned more because my “teacher” has learned more and he naturally passes these things on to others of us who will listen. Of course, he knows super heroes are not real. But there is a very real world of the unreal. Seems I have entered it.

So how have I become a character in the family of super heroes? Maybe I’m not a super hero, but I am akin to one who is: Wolverine. By what means? By dint of my metal bones. Or metal in my bones to be precise. Wolverine has adamantia; I have titanium. (Adamantia, in the real world of the unreal, is most certainly related to the words “adamantine”, which means “unbreakable”, and the more familiar “adamant” which means “refusing to be persuaded or to change one’s mind”. Super hero creators are, to say the least, creative!)

So I have metal in my bones, but beyond that, I also have inherited something by birth. You see, I was born in Michigan. The State animal of Michigan is…yes, the wolverine! Makes perfect sense then, doesn’t it? Born in Michigan, therefore, a wolverine, and I have metal in my bones. Who else could I be but…Wolverine Woman!?

The looks on my grandsons' faces were priceless.

Coming back to the real world…the surgery to put the metal into my bones, on April 12, went very well. In that moment of semi-consciousness as I began to awaken from the general anesthesia, groaning in recognition of the pain and trying to raise my leaden hands off the bed in recovery room, I knew I had survived surgery and was on the “other” side, the recovery side. I knew I faced a few weeks of pain and rehab on my way to full recovery and reuse of my legs. I felt pain but also Thankfulness.

The bone biopsy done during surgery came back with no indication of any abnormality such as cancer, only the damage consistent with overuse of Fosamax (to treat osteoporosis). My doctor praising the name of Jesus Christ on the phone as he reported this news. I praising His name with him. Deep thankfulness.

A week and a half following rods being inserted into the shaft and upper portion of my left femur, I gave up the walker (never used the wheelchair at all), exchanging it for my quad-cane, am doing steps and will continue to press for new strength and healing with the physical therapy I am getting. Right now looks like I will be doing PT for another 6 weeks, at least, to the end of May. We will see what the doctor orders after that.

My hope is to go back home to West Virginia sometime this summer. I cannot make plans yet, obviously, so am taking each day as it comes, doing my PT exercises faithfully twice a day, working through the pain and emotional ups and downs…again. Or is it yet?

This is not easy nor can I do this alone. By no means. I am thankful I do not have to do this, and am not doing this, alone. It is hard. I need encouragement all along the way. There is a deep, dark abyss of discouragement and depression I keep skirting; sometimes the edge seems frighteningly close. It is good that others remind me this “up and down-ness” is normal, that though the good days will get more common, that the pain will lessen, not to be discouraged when I have a bad day, either. Breathe. Breathe.

The wolverine is known as a fierce fighter. In my innermost self I am not surprised at my will to improve, to fight for the use of my legs, to push to get back to a normal lifestyle. I have been doing this kind of thing all my life, pushing on and pushing through. I have inherited a fighting spirit. I’ve seen it in others; I’ve known it in myself.

But it is your prayers which buoy me up when I begin to “sink”. I am not alone. Thank you.