Friday, September 26, 2008

Broken, But Eternal

I'm not going to cry as I type this post. Okay, maybe just a little.

Because of my CIDP (chronic inflammatory demyelinating polyneuropathy), I have inflammation. Sometimes I have mucho inflammation. For the past two years, my wedding ring has been so tight I can't get it off. Can you see where this is going? I mean, can't get it off regardless of what I try. My husband has said for two years, "That ring will have to come off at some point. You can't live like that much longer."

Two years later and he came home from work yesterday to find my finger red, inflamed and just gross-looking. I pulled out all the stops..."It'll be better tomorrow", "You'll cut my finger if you try to cut it off", "Let's just wait a couple of hours". You name it, I said it.

It didn't work. He wasn't backing down. So he and DiMarco went out to the garage to hunt for wire cutters and I hid. Not very well because they found me. It took awhile, but Chris cut it off and I cried like a baby. Not because it hurt. It didn't hurt one bit. I cried because...well, I don't really know why. It's just a gold band. Just a "thing".

I cried because this "thing" represents the union between two best friends who love each other and have promised to do so forever. I cried because this was actually my second wedding ring. Early in our marriage, we were flat broke and had to sell our original rings to pay the rent. That's a whole other story! I cried because this "thing" was a symbol. A symbol of a beautiful marriage.

As the night went on, I cursed CIDP. It has changed my life and now it has taken my ring. I was just so stinkin' mad! Then as it got later, my finger started to look much better and I became much more rational. I realized I could be angry about this or I could choose to find hope it this situation.

My marriage is my marriage with or without a wedding ring. I have been blessed with an amazing man and an amazing marriage. I can't imagine life any other way. What a journey the two of us have been on! A ring is just a ring. I have the real thing, not just a symbol.

In time, we'll save up enough money for another simple band. Until then, I'm thinking about buying a ten dollar fake one. Whatcha think?

CIDP, you can take the ring, but you can't take the real thing!

With hope,


Lakendra said...

Hey, Kris, sorry to hear about your ring but better the ring got off than you losing a finger! *HuGs* ~Lakendra

Anonymous said...

I cried when I read your story about your wedding ring. I don't know where the tears came from either except I know your pain in trying to deal daily with the effects of a chronic illness. You are an awesome woman.


Libby said...

I say go for it! I understand, i had to stop wearing mine cuz of nerve pain with Fibro. Thank you for your devotional on the Chroinic illness devotional. Blessings sister.

Renee said...

I am enjoying your blog so much. Your honesty in sharing your personal journey is helpful for all of us who live with chronic illnesses.
God bless

Shonda said...

The Jesus in you shines through this post. He shines even brighter in you in person. I was so glad to meet you this past weekend at the conference. May the Lord continue to bless you as you serve HIM. Love & blessings in Christ our Lord.

Engrafted by His Grace-

Anonymous said...

I just stumbled across this post and I'm laughing and crying at the same time. I have CIDP and I just went through almost the exact same thing with my wedding rings. Thanks to the IVIg and this stupid disease my rings are now sitting in a dish upstairs. It makes me sad too but I am grateful to still be alive, rings or not. Thanks for sharing your blog, CIDP isn't much fun is it?


Lana said...

Save the old ring. Save everything this enemy tries to steal from you. Keep it all in a special place.

When the time is right melt everything down and make something of outstanding beauty from it.

Do your choreography in the meantime. Create new dances. You have the perfect partner.

You already know this stuff. You just forgot for a moment.

It happens when we let ourselves get too tired or too lonely.