Succor

We’ve all been the recipient of one of those chain e-mails talking about how wonderful girlfriends are.  I tend to read them and then not pass them on.  Not because I don’t have wonderful girlfriends, mostly because I’m poor at managing my inbox and try not to clog up the boxes of others.  But I truly don’t know where I’d be without these amazing women.

I sneezed over the weekend and threw out my back.  Sounds absolutely ridiculous, I know, but probably the second most painful experience of my life next to childbirth.  Yeah, that bad. I crawled into my bed and lie there, like a helpless slug, feeling somewhat normal only if I didn’t move a muscle.  I told myself if I just rested, it would be fine.  I caught Michael Phelps win his historic 21st medal through a half-opened eye, and wondered blearily if Bob Costas will ever just let his hair go grey.  My boys were sweet, thoughtful, helpful and concerned.

I woke up the next morning, fully clothed, contacts still in my eyes, and in absolute misery just attempting to get out of bed.  The teenagers, snoozing in the makeshift bedroom formerly known as the family room, were dead to the world, and as expected, nonresponsive to my pleading phone calls and texts.  I started sobbing, thinking I might as well just call it curtains.  I’ll be an invalid for the rest of my life, surely, with no one to care for the pitiful single woman I’ve deteriorated into.

I broke down and called one of my dear friends in the city.  She’s not the closest geographically, but she possesses the empathy and understanding I needed in that moment, as she is a veteran single woman herself. I liken the second singlehood that is the outcome of divorce to motherhood.  You can’t fully appreciate the situation until you’ve experienced it yourself. As I anticipated, this particular friend completely understood my reluctance to call a married friend, or anyone for that matter, as an admission that help is needed breaks open the wounds of self-pity, and she knew how completely unlovable I felt in such a needy state.  She recognized that my pain was intensified and acerbated by the feelings of aloneness I heaped on top of it; and that in moments of physical pain and vulnerability we feel powerless and devalued, wondering what’s so wrong with us that there isn’t a loving man at the ready to care for and soothe us.

She came to my aid immediately.  And she healed all of me, which was so much more valuable than simply finding relief for my aching and seized muscles. She fed me, and fibbed that I looked gorgeous for the hot doctor who was sure to be assigned to my case. Of course, she chided me for not calling her sooner, and had to convince her father in Michigan, who was equally concerned, that I didn’t need an ambulance.

The urgent care that is closest to my house apparently retained the same banking hours held by the financial institution that previously occupied the space.  While we waited for the doors to open, she assured me it is pretty much statistically impossible that we will be alone for the rest of our lives.  And even if we are, when we’re blue-haired and wrinkly-kneed we’ll move in together and take care of each other, although we admitted we’d probably be surrounded by whispered questions about our sexuality.  Good thing other people’s opinions are none of our business.   

Thankfully, my injury is temporary.  We picked up my prescriptions which included a muscle relaxant, a pain killer and an iced coffee (okay, I prescribed the coffee).  We chatted over our drinks and when she was certain the medications weren’t going to cause me to swing from the ceiling or slip into a comatose state and obtained my promise to avoid operating heavy machinery, she headed back to the city.  

Girlfriends are special human beings.  They each bring their own unique strength and power to the relationships they foster. When we question ourselves and our value, they correct us and remind us of our true worth.  They force us to be kinder to ourselves.  They keep us honest and hopeful.  They help us find our own power when it seems lost, and make sure we take care of ourselves so we can keep sailing toward our goals.   

Hmmm, this is starting to sound like a chain e-mail about great girlfriends.  Since my friend in the city is not a religious reader of my blog, which is completely in keeping with her character and everything I love about her, I will need to clog up her inbox with this thank you. I hope she’ll forgive me.