Who Am I?

This morning, I am nursing sore muscles from an injury to my chest and ribs. I've no idea what I did to hurt myself. My doctor said it's not an infection or illness, thank goodness. It won't affect my surgery on Wednesday. If I'd had to reschedule the surgery, I'm not entirely sure I would've followed through and done it.  Because of their contraindication to surgery, I am unable to take medication that would ease the inflammation that is causing the pain -- pain that is gripping much of my physical and mental strength. I have pain pills, but they make me sleepy. I can't be bothered with it right now, and I've way too much to do to sleep away my Saturday.

I have substitute plans to make for my class while I am away. And I need to clean my house and shop for groceries. Thanksgiving is coming, and though my family will be helping, I can't shake the ingrained notion that our Thanksgiving meal is primarily my responsibility -- surgery or not. I'm tired. The pain in my chest is physical, but it is affecting me emotionally, as well.  I would like to rest. But with rest comes too much time to think and dwell on what is to come. That is not always a good thing.

I am a fervid ball of stress and anxiety.

I have to admit that I am dreading this cochlear implant that my doctor says will improve my quality of hearing life. I really am. My intellect tells me it is a good thing. But my heart betrays me with a disparate sentiment.

I've been praying for something else. Not that I believe I have been forsaken by God. The cochlear implant is a technological miracle for those like me. It's just not the miracle I wanted. It's not what I desire deep within myself. I was raised to believe that God would give us the desires of our hearts. And this isn't it. It's a compromise -- a contradiction of faith. And somehow it feels like a contradiction of who I thought I was.

I know what I want. I want to hear. But who I am seems to be lost in the flurry of emotions I bear.

Wednesday can't come soon enough.