Ep. 76 The Sacred Pace of Healing: A Follow-Up I Didn’t Expect

In today’s episode, I share what it’s been like to navigate a nonlinear healing journey. From breakdowns in hospital gowns to tender moments at home, from sitz baths and swelling to glimpses of joy—I reflect on the rawness, the resilience, and the love that has carried me through.

This one’s for anyone in the middle of it.
 For those learning how to be in a body that’s still healing.
 For the caregivers holding it all.
 And for the sacred wisdom that emerges when we’re forced to slow all the way down.

Work with Lisa 

Topics we touch on:

• The emotional rollercoaster of re-hospitalization
• Living with a blood clot + starting blood thinners
• The invisible strength in surrender
• Celebrating small wins like sitting upright and soaking less
• The essential role of caregivers (and how they need care too)
• Reimagining resilience: relational, body-led, and gentle
• My daily rhythm as a devotional practice
• How healing becomes a conversation with the body

Transcript

Lisa: 0:11

Hey guys. Lisa Dawn here. Welcome back to this week's episode. My, oh my. Well, the last time I was on here, I was quite certain that I was healing and going to be updating y'all with another episode the following week, and that was in the middle of May. But as you can tell from my radio silence that life had other plans. As Murphy's Law would have it am mere. Six days after I aired that episode, I was back in the hospital for yet another surgery. This is the follow up. I didn't know I'd be recording, and it's about more than just recovery. It's about the sacred reckoning that happens when we're first forced to stop forced into stillness, forced into surrender. In today's episode, I share what it's been like to navigate a non-linear healing journey from breakdowns in hospital gowns to tender moments at home, from sits, baths and swelling to glimpses of joy. I reflect on the rawness, the resilience, and the love that has carried me through. This one's for anyone in the middle of it. For those learning how to be in a body that's still healing for the caregivers, holding it all, and for the sacred wisdom that emerges when we're forced to slow all the way down. I, uh, for those of you who didn't tune into my last episode, here is a very brief recap of what happened. In the beginning of May, I had a baseball sized abscess form in my perineum, which landed me in the emergency room for surgery. Then two weeks later, I had another surgery to remove a prolapsed hemorrhoid that formed from the pressure of the drained abscess. Then a week after that, a blood clot formed above the IV site on my right arm. And so I started blood thinners and the spiral of surrender deepened. On a side note, I didn't realize how much pain comes with a blood clot. I actually couldn't fully straighten my right arm until the blood thinners started doing their job. About a week later. Where are my blood clot homies at sending a shout out to all of you who've had this strange and uncomfortable experience and the girl has been through it On top of all of the medical stuff, my husband and our dog, Merlin, have been staying at Tim's parents' place for the last few months. It's closer to the hospital and all the checkups I've had to go in for. We finally went home for the first time last weekend, and it truly felt like I turned a corner on my healing journey. I had almost forgotten how much I love our home, the decor, the birds, our land mates and best friends who we share the property with. We had dinner, caught up, laughed, cried. It was everything. And so here we are almost three weeks after my last surgery and the blood clot, and I think it's safe to say I'm on the mend. And yes, I literally just knocked on wood after saying that. As I'm recording this, I'm happy to report that I'm sitting up straight for the first time since April 27th. Yeah, it's the middle of June. That's a long time. I never thought I'd be celebrating things like sitting or needing to soak my ass one less time per day, or that instead of four hour midday naps, I now am only down to one or two. So. Here are some of the things that I've been navigating and that I've learned about resilience, surrender, and healing in addition to everything that I shared in my last episode. First, I wanna say unsurprisingly, there were some really, really low moments, more than I'll share here, but one in particular stands out. I remember being in the emergency room in that strange in-between land. You know the time if you've been to emergency where you've been admitted, but you still don't know what's happening. You're surrounded by others who are sick, scared or injured, and I was waiting for CT scan results. And the doctor came in and told me that he'd have to operate again. My husband was sitting beside me and I'd already been in emergency for nine hours at that point, and I just, I broke down. I sobbed for what felt like 30 minutes straight, hunched over in my hospital gown, still recovering from my last surgery in complete shock. And despair that I was back here again and about to have another surgery. And at that point I hadn't eaten since around 11:00 AM and it was close to 10 at night. And I knew from my last surgery that they can't go in and operate and put you on anesthesia if you've eaten. Um. I believe it was three hours, up to three hours prior, so I'd kind of just been holding out. And eventually the tears slowed and the surgeon came back in to say that the operation would be postponed until the morning, which meant I could eat and drink anything I wanted until midnight. And just like that, something shifted. A spark of joy returned yes food. I was so thrilled. I think that was the first time that I had smiled that day. And I quickly sent my husband a list of everything I was craving, and he promptly went and, and gathered all of all of the food that I wanted. And that moment reminded me that no state is permanent. I can't speak to this healing journey without acknowledging the caregivers. The ones who witness our pain, who hear our sobs in the night, who see the worry etched into our faces, the ones who hold it while holding themselves. My husband, Tim, has been that person for me for months now. He has cleaned me, fed me, and been my emotional anchor. He's witnessed everything from learning how to change an IV bag to supporting me after bowel movements while quietly managing his own fear and putting his life on pause. Thank you, babe. And although he's the one that's been in the trenches with me, there's no amount of gratitude that can fully express all of the support I've received from so many different people from my parents, my parents in-laws, my siblings, all of my friends, the hospital staff, the strangers that have reached out and shared their own experiences. I'm grateful for you all. So this bit is for the caregivers. Compassion fatigue is real. The people who care for us also need care, and this is not a luxury. It's essential that they find ways to receive their own support to, whether it's going for a massage therapy, doing things they love, seeing friends, or just taking time alone. This all matters. It's paramount. These kinds of long-term health journeys are hard on everyone and no one should or can carry it alone. Yeah. Whew. I used to think resilience was about, you know, kind of just pushing through and making it to the other side. I. Now I know it's about staying with and being present to it all. My resilience has been about waking up swollen and bruised, and still choosing to feed myself. It's been crying in the shower and then softening into my own hands just to remember. I'm still here. It's been a journey into trusting that my body knows, even when my mind is tired of waiting. And resilience is relational, it's body led, and for me lately it's looked like napping or laying down when I need to crying and allowing the ebbs and flows of frustration and fear to be there. And from that place, remembering that. This is also a temporary experience and I will not feel this way forever. It's looked like snuggling with my dog, Merlin while I breathe through discomfort, letting my body be where it is without rushing it into who I was before. It is been about sitting in the gazebo and just watching. The plants and the flowers and the birds. Hmm. It's been about hanging out with my husband and allowing him to witness me to see me for who I am right now. And just a note on surrender is surrender. It isn't about giving up. It's more about giving in, not to defeat, but to life itself. To the slow unfurling of tissues to blood flow repair scar tissue reorientation to the grief that says, I miss my old energy and the love that replies, but you're still whole lately. I've been thinking of the body as a sacred altar, and this is not the first time I felt this way, but even more so now. It demands presence, and when we finally sit at its feet, even if it's through illness or injury, it begins to speak. Healing doesn't happen on our schedule. It happens in micro moments of listening, of being kind of surrender. My daily rhythm has changed so much over these past two months, and I found so much peace and a gentle rhythm that holds me. Warm teas in the morning, soft light looking out at the sunrise. Something that's consistent. Protein rich iron building foods to support what was lost at the beginning. It wasn't that way though. All I wanted was apple juice. It was so weird. I hadn't purchased apple juice in like. I don't even remember the last time my body just needed quick, quick stores of energy, but now I'm on to rebuilding. Rebuilding my blood, sits baths. I never knew I could spend so much time in the bathroom cleaning my butt, uh, restorative movement. Um. This one has been huge because I've been so sedentary because of my injuries. It's, yeah, been a bit disabling, so getting back into just gentle movement, gentle stretches, gentle everything. Getting more in tune with my breath, listening to music that I love. And then reflecting on the day, what did my body do well today? How could I have responded more kindly to myself? And this feels less of a protocol and more of a prayer. It's me relearning how to be in a body that's still healing. Still sacred, still worthy of love, even when it's swollen and stitched and slower than I'd like. So if you are in a healing season two, please hear this. You don't have to be productive, even though you may choose to be at times. You don't have to be grateful all the time, even though you may choose to be at times. You don't even have to be brave. You just have to be with yourself gently, honestly, and with the kind of care you'd offer a baby. Just learning how to stand or walk. Your body is doing holy work, even in the quiet, even when it feels like nothing is happening, even when it hurts. And I'm right here with you. In the middle of it, learning to trust the sacred pace of healing. So thank you for being here with me today, and as always, take care of yourself and each other I Bye for now. As always, thank you so much for listening. Life is busy, so it means even more that you're carving out time in your day to be here. Listen, we've got so many great episodes coming up, so please make sure you subscribe to follow along on Apple Podcasts or Spotify. And for those of you who like to watch your podcasts, we are now uploading them to YouTube. And if you appreciate these episodes, please do us a favor and leave a rating or a review and share it with anyone you think could benefit. See you again next Wednesday.