24 hours later...

What a difference a day makes.

Yesterday, posting that I am now accepting of my situation...then, today, feeling so badly that I am to the point where I have to do something!

I admit it, I'm a sucker for illustrative stories. Here's another that hearkens back to the early 1990's when we were managing a ranch in north-central Washington.

Down the lonely road from our old, decrepit farm house was a nondescript cabin, nestled near the creek. This was the employee housing for our one ranch hand, Bob. Living with Bob was his girlfriend, Judy...they both looked to be in their 40's.

Bob never showed up to work without Judy, even in the middle of the night when they'd come in the winter to check through the calving cows. She was not on the payroll, and I loved ranch work as much as the next person, but I also loved having a chance to stay home once in a while and get caught up on the laundry and housekeeping, too.

Judy never got that opportunity and I noticed it. I had times that offered me the chance to visit with her and get to know her, and she revealed that Bob beat her often. He always brought her with him to work because he was insanely jealous and feared she would leave or tell someone about their situation.

I wasn't sure what to do. I didn't want to put her in harm's way. Never having been in that situation before, I didn't know how to handle it and neither did my husband. We decided to wait and watch. And told her we'd help her if she ever decided to leave Bob.

One time I visited her and she showed me big bruises on her arms.

I asked her, "What is your limit, Judy?"

With knitted brow, she asked me what I meant.

"I mean, what is it going to take for you to leave him? To call the police? Right now, he's shoving you around and hitting you. You must have in your mind what would be the last straw. Is it when he breaks your arm? When he threatens your life? I'm just honestly wondering what it is."

A week or so later, I looked down the county road and saw police cars parked up on the road above the cabin, lights swirling blue patterns on the aspen trees. Before we could go down there to find out what had happened, one of the patrol cars drove up into our yard, with Judy in the back seat. The officer got out and explained that Judy had asked him to bring her up to our house. She knew she could stay with us for safety and until she got things figured out.

After the cop left, Judy explained that that afternoon, Bob went into a rage and pulled a knife on her. She told me that my words came back to her mind, and she thought, "Okay, this is it! This is the point where I say no more!" And she called the police.

Bob went to jail, and Judy did some work for us on the ranch until she had some money to go back to her home and family in the eastern part of the state. Bob had purposely pocketed what little money they had when he knew the police were coming, leaving her nothing.

I thought of this story as I laid achingly in bed today.
I was too weak to get dressed....again.
I didn't step out the door once.
I was so weak, I could hardly walk the length of the house, and it was very painful to even do so.
I just wanted to stay in bed, but the pain meds were not helping and it hurt to be there.
I suffered through the day.

And I thought, "This is it. This is the point where I have to start fighting again. Maybe I could have lived the way things were a few weeks ago, but this is ridiculous!"

So, in order to feel better by just doing something, anything, I faxed a note to my attorney, asking him to request an emergency authorization for the SPECT scan that my new neurosurgeon had ordered back in November. The attorney had told me on the phone that work comp would not make that decision and it would be left to the judge at the hearing that is scheduled for Feb. 8. I told him I did not want to wait 3 more weeks.

It just made me feel like I had done something proactive.

We all have a limit. Today, I felt I'd found mine.