Family and Friends

Your strongest friends need check-ins too. This year, reach out and let them know they don’t have to hold everything alone.

#MentalHealth #FamilyAndFriends

#Depression #Anxiety #Relationships #FamilyAndFriends #Trauma #MentalHealth

Its been more than 3 months since an accident at a gym upended my world. I am still attending rehabilitation twice a week and need a crutch to move about.

This accident meant I have now had 9 surgeries in the last 3 years. One of the important lessons I have learnt is that when a nurse or doctor is standing in front of me, they cannot read my mind. It is up to me to answer their questions as accurately and honestly as I can.

I recall that after a triple heart bypass my daughter said to a nurse that if I tell them my pain level is 5 then it really is 7. She said to them I will always minimise your responses because I don't want to be a bother.

Sadly she is right. With this latest bout of surgeries I have strived to be as honest as I can. There is no glory in trying to "tough" out pain. After 3 months I am really over pain and restriction but I am being honest with my family and the medical staff about how I am doing.

When we are upfront about our health we are opening ourselves to more appropriate help and greater assistance. You are not a nuisance. You are not defective. You are human, just like everybody else.

Reminder to do one small thing today that supports your well-being.

#MentalHealth #Depression #Anxiety #ADHD #Addiction #FamilyAndFriends #selfcare

Reminder to do one small thing today that supports your well-being.

#MentalHealth #Depression #Anxiety #ADHD #Addiction #FamilyAndFriends #selfcare

Instead of making resolutions for yourself this year, show up for someone else and participate in our Check-In Challenge! A simple check-in can encourage a loved one to prioritize their mental health.

#MentalHealth #Depression #Anxiety #FamilyAndFriends

2025 has gone. In some ways I am glad. There were so many good things that happened in 2025 but the year ended badly with my accident.

What does 2026 hold? I have a few ideas but that’s all. This morning my Wife surprised me by dragging some outdoor lounges from our front patio and made an alfresco dining area facing our garden. She then brought out a wonderful tray of eggs, ham and chorizo. What a blessing. The birds are singing, there is a gentle breeze.

I have hope that in 4-5 weeks I should be able to walk unaided. Can’t wait. No doubt like most years there will be triumphs and tragedies. There will be disappointments and unexpected surprises that make us smile.

I must focus on the One who holds the future and is also holding me. Jesus, may I never forget or take for granted your mercy, love, protection and grace.

There are some posts you really hesitate making, this is definitely one of them. Today I feel like a fraud. At church this morning I really didn’t want to be there and I really didn’t want to engage with anyone. Yesterday I started to feel very unwell with debilitating chest pain. My Wife asked me if I thought it was cardiac related. Given my recent history of major heart surgery it was definitely a valid question. The truth was I wondered if it was cardiac but the thought of yet another ambulance ride and another hospital admission was more than I could handle. I thought if it is an heart issue then maybe I would get to heaven and frankly that sounded good. It’s been 8 weeks since my accident. That’s 8 weeks of constant pain and my resolve is getting low.

Today my digestive system isn’t keeping any food in. And I am crazy tired. I have been sleeping a lot lately during the day which isn’t normal but I have forgotten what normal is. No one at church realises what a state I am in. I keep carefully prepared walls around me because I know if they did know they would all want to visit, cook etc and I just don’t have the energy to entertain people. Those walls though have created an environment where I am feeling like an isolated fraud. All I can manage now is to lay in the guest bedroom bed. I am too tired to read or watch tv.

I have managed to get appointment tomorrow with a doctor. I don’t know what to tell her. I think I will try and articulate I am scared that I am behind on my recovery and I want a review of my pain medication regime because I don’t think it’s keeping up with my pain levels. I am allergic to some pain medication and OxyContin has no effect on me. I am wondering if my current pain medication is also ineffective. My surgeon is overseas for another 2 weeks, the rehabilitation program is closed until Jan 6. I have no idea what I should be expecting at this post operative point.

Here on The Mighty I am often seen as an encourager. Today I feel like nothing but a fake. I am drowning and I can’t even find myself a life preserver. The physical pain is relentless and I am worn out.

The photo is a view outside the guest bedroom I am staying in. It offers a glimmer of hope.

Yesterday was Christmas here in Australia. The amount of work put into the day is huge. Cooking starts many days beforehand and the text messages organising who will be doing what starts months before the day. It’s a big day with high expectations.

This year I knew weeks in advance it was going to be a very different Christmas for me and that too required quite a bit of planning. Early November my world was turned upside down after a careless person at a gym class ran into me and caused me to crash hard on the floor, and in the process, shattering my tibia in multiple places. Complicated surgery was required and it will be mid January before I can start some weight bearing movements. Full recovery will take 6 months.

So, the logistics of how I would manage Christmas Day have been the subject of a lot of thought. The first challenge was how to get me inside my daughters house. It’s build on a very steep hill and has heaps of stairs and is multi levelled.

With careful planning my wheelchair got me into the house, via the garage and with the aid of a few guests. Then I was wheeled to the room where the buffet was and a safe space reserved for me. A strategy for a dedicated bathroom was sorted. Without prompting so many guests ensured I had food and drink, and they went upstairs to get me coffee and constantly checked if I needed anything. A sofa was put in place for me to snooze.

Most people were eating around the pool so when I decided I would like to join them, again people rallied and helped figure out how to get me and my wheelchair outside.

Many years ago we made a decision as a family that Christmas Day would be a day of inclusion. We agreed to embrace anyone who may not have family, is isolated or just needed to be included. This has transformed our Christmas. It became a very large gathering. It’s multicultural, noisy, fun, and so fulfilling.

One relative was very unhappy about the open invitation to others and told me that “Christmas is for family”. I couldn’t let this remark go unchallenged so before we said grace for the food I declared, “It has been said that Christmas is a time for family. And that is indeed true. And all of you, are family. So welcome to you all”.

My relative gave me a death stare.

Yesterday, with all the logistics of just getting me around I was touched and overwhelmed by how many people, without being asked, took it upon themselves to help me have a wonderful day. Their love and compassion, demonstrated the best in humanity. My extended “family” did so much to make this a very memorable Christmas, for all the right reasons. I am thankful.

Arriving at church this morning a familiar routine played out. As my Wife parked our car there was a rush of people coming to push me and my wheelchair inside. I am quite capable of doing it myself but they want to help. It’s humbling.

Then as the music practiced my daughter started playing one of my favourite Christmas carols, O Holy Night. In spite of my best efforts to mask it, I started to cry.

Was it because of the generosity of people wanting to help me get to my seat and other tasks like getting me coffee? Was it the beautiful singing? I don’t know. What I do know is this Christmas season is like no other. I need help with so many things. I can’t go upstairs to choose my own clothes. I need assistance with managing the 15 different meds I take each day. I need help with critical things, like getting my own coffee (That is scary, coffee is seriously important).

I am learning, slowly, don’t overthink things too much. There are explanations we will never receive, and that’s okay. The reason behind the tears is not as important as letting them flow.

Thank God for hope, the promise contained in the Christmas story. Thank God for caring people and for human connections. Thank God for hope of better days ahead.

I woke up this morning in a crazy amount of pain. I had taken two different pain meds at 1am but when I woke at 8am it was time to take 4 different meds.

I started doing my daily leg exercises designed to help my leg recover from the major surgery it had 4 weeks ago. And frankly I detest those exercises because they bring on extreme pain but I know they are one of the keys to getting full use of the leg back.

Out of the blue are flood of tears hit me, and I started sobbing uncontrollably. I was puzzled where they came from and then clarity came, like a earth shattering bolt of lightning.

I am grieving. Grieving the crazy amount of pain I have had to endure the last 5 weeks. Grieving the $8000 in medical bills. Now, I can afford those, no problem at all, it’s just I would rather have been able to spend it on something more meaningful.

I am grieving the loss of dignity being in hospital brings. You have to discuss with the medical team information that is normally way off limits.

I am grieving the huge load others have had to pick up because of my limited abilities for awhile. My Wife doesn’t complain but I know she is exhausted. The last time I was in hospital she was there when code blue was called and she had to stand in a corner while 12 medical people attended to me and then hurriedly took me away for more surgery. That must have been the longest wait for her.

I’m grieving not being independent and having to rely on a walking frame, wheelchair and other mobility equipment.

As a Pastor I have learnt a lot about grief. Walking alongside people who have had to bury loved ones is an incredible privilege. Yet, here is the bottom line. The more I learn about grief the more I realise how little I know. It’s very complicated, very individual and it plays by its own rules.

I do know this though. Having shed so many tears this morning, I feel better for it. My physical pain is still easily getting my attention but in 45 minutes the main pain meds will kick in.

So many people on this app are dealing with grief. Most having to navigate much deeper and more painful grief than what I am experiencing right now.

This current situation has taught me, again, a universal truth. Grief is much better handled when you don’t try and do it on your own.

I have had over the years many people reluctant to visit a grieving person because “they don’t know what to say”. That is indeed a challenge. I then advise them they don’t have to say anything. Just be there. Some questions generally work well such as:
How are feeling?
Tell me about (the person who has died)?
What’s the most challenging thing you are facing at the moment?

Not facing this season alone has kept me from going down dark rabbit holes. Support from friends. Love from my family. People here on The Mighty. Gods voice. Medical practitioners.

I don’t normally like crying, at all. Yet, I am grateful for the tears this morning.

It is my hope and prayer that this post brings someone some comfort, wisdom and hope today.

#Depression #Anxiety #Grief #FamilyAndFriends #Relationships #Recovery #MentalHealth