The Saturday that changed it all started
off as a normal Saturday. I got up later than normal, went down the stairs to
have breakfast, showered, and got dressed into comfortable clothes. I had
prepared myself for a relaxing day. That did not happen however.
Dad gathered all us kids in the lounge and
told us that instead of cleaning like we usually do on Saturdays (yes, my
parents often make us clean the house on Saturday mornings) we were going to
tackle the weeds in the front garden instead. So we got some gardening gloves,
a couple of spades (both big and small), some gardening shears and eventually,
when we realized how tough the weeds/vines were, an axe.
We got to work splitting up and trying
different methods for pulling the weeds out. We pulled at them, hacked at them
with the spades, dug around their bases, trying to release them from the dirt.
We even had the boys chopping at them with the axe (dad didn't let us girls try
much). The weeds were stubborn and often refused to let go of the ground they
were in. We made progress but it was minimal and it felt like this job would
take forever to complete. It was difficult work and finally, when dad saw that
we were getting to the point of having very little energy left, he told us we
could go in for lunch once is had pulled all the normal weeds out of the only
portion of the small garden that didn't have these tough weeds in it. And he
meant every single tiny little weed. So I got to work and after a short while,
Holly (my sister aged 9) came to help me. A little while later we asked for dad
to check it. He pointed out a few more weeds and once we had pulled those out
he finally let us go and get some lunch.
I was so happy to be free. Unfortunately
that weed pulling experience didn't just get me out of breath and tired.
The next day, we went to church and after
worship, I headed to my youth class. As I sat there listening to the preacher
speak and, if I remember correctly, eating a donut that they had brought (they
sometimes did bring donuts), I moved my hand slightly and felt a burst of pain
in the area below my thumb. At first I ignored it and continued to listen to
the leader. But the pain didn't go away and it flared up again when I moved my
wrist again. It was awful. When I got back to mum I told her and sometime in
the next couple of days she took me to the doctor who gave me a diagnosis. I
had tendonitis. He gave me a brace and told me to wear it for 4-6 weeks. Let's
just say that brace didn't work. And that was the start of a painful yearlong
journey.
