July 2 was one of those ugly days my friend talks about when she says, “We have good days and ugly days.”
This was an ugly day. Zohran Mamdani, Mayor of New York City, was touting, “Colorado, we are coming for you.” Well, it seemed they did. Democratic socialist Melat Kiros won in the Colorado U. S. House primary.
Yes, he was touting. It means to publicize, advertise or praise something or someone repeatedly in order to persuade others to accept it. I didn’t want to hear it.
Other news was unsettling, too. Fires were burning in Colorado. I turned on Facebook reels to see what was happening. They showed images around Ouray and other towns nearby. Smoke had even drifted into Castle Rock, where my grandchildren live. The fires were out of control.
All I knew was to pray. Pray for our sister communities. Sometimes the blessing comes quietly. Pray for rain, pray for people’s hearts to turned to the Lord. Pray that we don’t take on the sting of New York.
I needed prayer, too. I had made an appointment with a spine doctor because of pain in my legs, thinking it was caused by the accident two years ago. Physical therapy had made the pain worse, but I thought I was being proactive. I was determined not to end up in a wheelchair again. I was barely walking with my walker, and carefully getting up and down from a chair, always choosing one that was high enough with arms.
Before I left the doctor’s office that day, the doctor said, “These are your hips.” He turned the X-rays toward me. When I looked at them, I nearly fell off my chair. My pelvic area was solid white. The opening where the nerves should travel was completely shut. My hip bones were caked, covered in what looked to be fresh white snow. But, it was not snow, but arthritis. My hip sockets were bone on bone. My spine was crooked as a dog’s leg and was tipped so I couldn’t stand up straight.
When the family gathered for dinner that night, my daughter said, “Mother, you’ve got to stop talking about the accident.”
I answered her, “Believe me, the accident is old news. I’ve got a new point of reference. The accident is in the rearview mirror.
“I have to tell you something, and it’s going to involve all of you.”
Then I showed them a picture on the phone of the X-rays. I told them what the spine doctor said: “This is the worst case of arthritis I’ve ever seen.”
I had never associated myself with arthritis. That happened to other people.
“I have to have surgery on both hips. I received an injection today, and I have to wait until October. I have the doctor’s name who will do the surgery. He’s the same doctor that will do surgery on you.” I pointed to my son-in-law, Al Wylie.
“Does Daddy know about all of this?” one of my daughters asked.
“No.”
I told them what happened in the waiting room with their dad. While I was waiting to see the doctor, your dad didn’t recognize me. He thought I was another woman who looked so much like me that he argued she looked more like me than I did. He wanted to leave, go to the car and look for me. My daughter could not persuade him otherwise.
“We’ll take care of you and Daddy. Whatever it takes.”
Final brushstroke: Even in the ugliest of days, I know the Lord will take care of the problem. I cannot do anything about New York, someone who has targeted our state or about all these fires. But I can pray. Ugly days, when prayed over, can turn into good days.
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