Funny thing about livinng with Pulmonary Fibrosis is that life's schedules as you have known them to be all your life become non-existent. Due to the fluctuations of the disease, you learn to roll with the flow. Sometimes there are sleepless nights and sleep-filled days. Taking a shower, bathing or getting dressed have to be aligned with the time of day when your strength reserves are at their highest or you can spend the rest of the day trying to catch your breath. That being said, it's how I came about taking a very relaxing bath in our whirlpool tub today - in the middle of the day. Ah, pure bliss. No pain, easy, steady breaths, as close to heaven as one can get on earth... that is until....
Me, in my infinite wisdom, was just floating along, relaxing and daydreaming of warmer climates and something about cabana boys bringing me drinks with little umbrellas and fruit in them. To add to the ambience, I decided to use my Black Raspbery Vanilla shower gel to wash up with. I was mindful of the fact that this was soap so I squeezed merely a dimeful unto the washcloth and inhaled the fragrance deeply. It's not a strong scent, for that would send me into a coughing frenzy, but merely a light scent that I use in the shower every day. You know, it doesn't take much soap in a whirlpool tub to explode into a plethora of sweet smelling bubbles that quickly cascaded over the side of the tub and on to the floor. Oh well, that would have to wait, the story in the magazine about Hawaii beckoned. So I leaned back in the tub and continued my daydream of a warm beach somewhere, all the while reading an article on the benefits of visiting Hawaii and some special places on the Big Island to be sure to visit.
Suddenly, somewhere in the depths of the deep blue whirlpool sea, something brushed up against my leg and let's just say, I may be able to cancel my complete cardiac work-up the end of the month at Vanderbilt. The jolt my heart took is telling me it's working just fine. After nearly bolting from the tub (alas I didn't because even a non-slip surface at the bottom of said tub was no guarantee of safety if you move suddenly and too fast), I quickly realized that sharks are not indigenous to this part of the state of Tennessee. As a matter of fact, I've never seen one loose in the state at all and I certainly didn't see one walk past me and jump in the tub with me. After a quick, blind, swish of my hand in the water I came upon the culprit that drew such fear - the washcloth. Somehow it had covertly slipped off the side of the tub under the covering of bubbles where it was caught in the tide of the whirlpool and began it's wild ride of pleasure in the nice warm water - plotting it's plan of attack.
After so rudely being snapped back to reality, I decided it was time to exit my little vacation place and return to the cold, bleary day at hand. It didn't take long to clean up the bubbles that made their way across the floor. I suppose there are more efficient ways to clean the outside of the tub and the surrounding floor, but I have to admit that both myself and the bathroom smelled so divine. Ah, yes, it was short, but sweet. A mini-vacation in the midst of an insidious disease that literally steals my breath away - and not in a good way. I may not have control over this disease, as it so clearly reminds me on a day to day basis, but I can honestly say that this disease does not have complete control over me. As long as I can manage to find little snippets of time where I can escape into the recesses of my mind and manage to find hope as well as something to smile about, then it never will. And that I can take to the bank.
Hope y'all are having a great weekend. Time now to settle in with a pain pill, my other meds and the rest of the day filled with football games. Yep, today I've won against Pulmonary Fibrosis - no matter what my O2 stats are. Have a blessed day and remember - tomorrow - GO BEARS! : )
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Here Coach...
Funny thing happened after we woke up today. We ended up with a new coach for team Hassett. Sigh. It all started last night when we were reminiscing with a friend of ours that was over for Monday Night Football about our old dog Bart. Then of course, the conversation bended towards Igloo. We laughed as we recalled good times with them both. It was the first time that I was able to do that without the tears welling up in my eyes. Up until now, it just hurt too much even though it has been year and a half since Igloo died.
After our friend left, we continued to talk bout how it would be nice to have a dog again someday and what kind, color and size, etc., then we went to bed. This morning I decided to clean out some folders off of my computer and came across the little movie I made after Igloo died. As I was watching it and tears were streaming down my face, I felt like he was telling me that it was ok if we moved on. It was almost as if he was releasing my heart to love a pup again. I didn't say anything to Oliver about it and just went and got on facebook, like I do every day (yeah, yeah, I know). Lo and behold there was a post from one of my friends who was looking to give away a 15 month old dog because she just felt they didn't have the time for him like he needed.
Well, I guess I don't need to tell you what happened next. Tonight she brought him by to meet us and that's all she wrote. We both fell head over heels for this little bundle of fur. He came with the name of Lucky but it just didn't seem to fit him - at least to us - and he wasn't really responding to it anyway. We tossed names around (I kinda liked Ditka but y'all know that any reference to a Chicago Bears team was not going to fly with Oliver) and finally we both agreed on Coach. We figured he'll probably be calling the shots around here anyway. He is adorable - white with tan spots, the exact coloring and size that we had talked about last night. Some kind of Spaniel mix and very mild mannered. He's quickly making himself at home and quite frankly, it feels like he's been part of the family all along.
He's pretty quiet. We did find out that he has a voice when he found himself in the mirror of the curio cabinet... lol. Guess he thought he had a playmate for a minute. Oliver went out to the shed and found an old collar and leash that I had, for whatever reason, kept in my memory box. He is now adorned in Husker red with a red leash and he's looking quite dapper if I do say so myself. I still want to give him a bath tomorrow and clean him up a bit before taking pictures but I will post them soon. He has already taken dad for a walk and he said that dad did just fine on his end of the leash (and no, I am not a dog whisperer, it's just his eyes speak volumes). Needless to say, we're dog parents again and it just feels right. If you would have asked me two days ago about getting a dog, I'd have still said "no way". But God had other ideas and we're just thinking that He knew all along that we all would need each other. Funny how He works that way. Ok, Coach, what are we gonna do next?
Post note: Coach didn't stick... as it turns out, everytime he went to get into something, I would say, "oh no, sorry Charlie" and guess what? Yep he started responding to Charlie... so Charlie it is and quite frankly - it fits. : ) <3
After our friend left, we continued to talk bout how it would be nice to have a dog again someday and what kind, color and size, etc., then we went to bed. This morning I decided to clean out some folders off of my computer and came across the little movie I made after Igloo died. As I was watching it and tears were streaming down my face, I felt like he was telling me that it was ok if we moved on. It was almost as if he was releasing my heart to love a pup again. I didn't say anything to Oliver about it and just went and got on facebook, like I do every day (yeah, yeah, I know). Lo and behold there was a post from one of my friends who was looking to give away a 15 month old dog because she just felt they didn't have the time for him like he needed.
Well, I guess I don't need to tell you what happened next. Tonight she brought him by to meet us and that's all she wrote. We both fell head over heels for this little bundle of fur. He came with the name of Lucky but it just didn't seem to fit him - at least to us - and he wasn't really responding to it anyway. We tossed names around (I kinda liked Ditka but y'all know that any reference to a Chicago Bears team was not going to fly with Oliver) and finally we both agreed on Coach. We figured he'll probably be calling the shots around here anyway. He is adorable - white with tan spots, the exact coloring and size that we had talked about last night. Some kind of Spaniel mix and very mild mannered. He's quickly making himself at home and quite frankly, it feels like he's been part of the family all along.
He's pretty quiet. We did find out that he has a voice when he found himself in the mirror of the curio cabinet... lol. Guess he thought he had a playmate for a minute. Oliver went out to the shed and found an old collar and leash that I had, for whatever reason, kept in my memory box. He is now adorned in Husker red with a red leash and he's looking quite dapper if I do say so myself. I still want to give him a bath tomorrow and clean him up a bit before taking pictures but I will post them soon. He has already taken dad for a walk and he said that dad did just fine on his end of the leash (and no, I am not a dog whisperer, it's just his eyes speak volumes). Needless to say, we're dog parents again and it just feels right. If you would have asked me two days ago about getting a dog, I'd have still said "no way". But God had other ideas and we're just thinking that He knew all along that we all would need each other. Funny how He works that way. Ok, Coach, what are we gonna do next?
Post note: Coach didn't stick... as it turns out, everytime he went to get into something, I would say, "oh no, sorry Charlie" and guess what? Yep he started responding to Charlie... so Charlie it is and quite frankly - it fits. : ) <3
Friday, December 24, 2010
Perfect Peace
It's the wee, wee hours on Christmas Eve. Soon stores will be opening to usher in those procrastinators who have waited until the last minute to find the perfect gift for their loved ones. That has never been my style. I watch for the bargains all year long and usually am fully finished by now. This year was no different. Oh we did a little crowd bashing last week but that was enough. How that actually gets people into the spirit is beyond me. It wants to zap the spirit right out of my life. But that's ok, we're all cast from a different cloth.
Tonight I've been a bit teary-eyed. Not only waxing nostalgic over Christmas' past but realizing that according to the doctors, this very well could be my last. Am I working harder to make it special because of this? Nope, not at all. If anything, I'm more "here" in the everyday things and trying to find the joy in each moment. To laugh at the flour all over the counters and floors from our cookie-baking "experiment", to not stress when dinner got served at 9 pm instead of the usual senior time of 4 pm to which we've become accustomed. Presents wrapped? Nope, not yet. Actually I have to remember where I hid them first and that might take awhile. I got the Christmas cards out the other day to start working on them and here it is Christmas Eve and the first one isn't even signed yet. Oh well, I'll get them done and God willing, everyone will get theirs before April Fools' Day. I'm not stressing about it. You see, I'm enjoying everything that's going right but especially those little things that just seem to go wrong.
I'm also remembering that there are many, many of my friends who lost loved ones unexpectedly this year and my heart hurts for them. I remember all too well the raw nerves exposed during this time after the departure of a loved one. The pain can sometimes be unbearable and the tears hot enough to burn tracks down your face. I know, I've been there. This will not be a happy Christmas for them. They will hurt but they will find that God can and will use it in His own way. They will in turn be more appreciative of the little details and not stress over them quite so much. They'll work hard to try and remember the details from last year - those same details that they would have emblazoned in their memory had they only known it would be the last as the status quo.
It's funny how hearing that the end is near for me has turned out to be one of the greatest gifts, odd as that may sound. It truly is a gift that I didn't know I wanted and yet have come to love. It's a gift that keeps on giving. My perspective on life has changed. It has in turn multiplied into other gifts that I didn't know I wanted and yet am cherishing none-the-less. I've received the gift of peace. There is a peace in my spirit that carries me along each day. It has given me the gift of tears - both happy and sad. Sad because I may never spend a Christmas with my family and friends again on this earth and yet happy knowing that soon I will spend time with people that I have loved, who have loved me, that I haven't even seen in a long, long time. I miss them and am looking forward to eternity to catch up with them. I've received the gift of rest. This ol' body can't do the things I used to be able to do, so I'm forced to sit on the sidelines and let the "new team" take over and you know what? that's been a blessing in itself. Not many people get to sit down and watch the preparations as they unfold and seeing people who have always just known "it" was done realize that there is a whole lot more that goes into than they thought. There is the gift of satisfaction of having had a full life, even if it hasn't been long enough.
All of us are surrounded by gifts from our Father everyday. My hope and prayer for you is that you take the time out to slow down, look around, and take it all in. I can guarantee you there are people that will be gathering for their Christmas dinner with empty seats at the table who will be wishing they had done that last year. Their time is up. The landscape of their family has changed forever. Never in a million years did they see it coming and yet that's the reality they are forced to face this year and for years to come. There will be tears, there will be hearts aching, but there in the midst of all that pain, will come a peace that surpasses all understanding and that peace will come because of a baby born in a stable over 2000 years ago. Please don't wait for disaster to hit your family before you give yourself a "time-out". Take it, use it wisely and enjoy all the gifts that have come out of the one ultimate gift that can be passed along. The gift of eternal life through Jesus Christ, our Lord.
Merry Christmas to you and yours. May your new sense of reflection and being "aware" last far beyond the holidays and carry you throughout next year. My prayer is that all your seats are full at your dinner table and that all your memories be made from pleasant ones but if you just so happen to have tragedy befall you, my prayer is that you receive that gift of peace that was bought and paid for at the cross. It's one of the sweetest gifts I've ever known. Merry Christmas and God Bless you with His perfect peace. Love y'all.
Tonight I've been a bit teary-eyed. Not only waxing nostalgic over Christmas' past but realizing that according to the doctors, this very well could be my last. Am I working harder to make it special because of this? Nope, not at all. If anything, I'm more "here" in the everyday things and trying to find the joy in each moment. To laugh at the flour all over the counters and floors from our cookie-baking "experiment", to not stress when dinner got served at 9 pm instead of the usual senior time of 4 pm to which we've become accustomed. Presents wrapped? Nope, not yet. Actually I have to remember where I hid them first and that might take awhile. I got the Christmas cards out the other day to start working on them and here it is Christmas Eve and the first one isn't even signed yet. Oh well, I'll get them done and God willing, everyone will get theirs before April Fools' Day. I'm not stressing about it. You see, I'm enjoying everything that's going right but especially those little things that just seem to go wrong.
I'm also remembering that there are many, many of my friends who lost loved ones unexpectedly this year and my heart hurts for them. I remember all too well the raw nerves exposed during this time after the departure of a loved one. The pain can sometimes be unbearable and the tears hot enough to burn tracks down your face. I know, I've been there. This will not be a happy Christmas for them. They will hurt but they will find that God can and will use it in His own way. They will in turn be more appreciative of the little details and not stress over them quite so much. They'll work hard to try and remember the details from last year - those same details that they would have emblazoned in their memory had they only known it would be the last as the status quo.
It's funny how hearing that the end is near for me has turned out to be one of the greatest gifts, odd as that may sound. It truly is a gift that I didn't know I wanted and yet have come to love. It's a gift that keeps on giving. My perspective on life has changed. It has in turn multiplied into other gifts that I didn't know I wanted and yet am cherishing none-the-less. I've received the gift of peace. There is a peace in my spirit that carries me along each day. It has given me the gift of tears - both happy and sad. Sad because I may never spend a Christmas with my family and friends again on this earth and yet happy knowing that soon I will spend time with people that I have loved, who have loved me, that I haven't even seen in a long, long time. I miss them and am looking forward to eternity to catch up with them. I've received the gift of rest. This ol' body can't do the things I used to be able to do, so I'm forced to sit on the sidelines and let the "new team" take over and you know what? that's been a blessing in itself. Not many people get to sit down and watch the preparations as they unfold and seeing people who have always just known "it" was done realize that there is a whole lot more that goes into than they thought. There is the gift of satisfaction of having had a full life, even if it hasn't been long enough.
All of us are surrounded by gifts from our Father everyday. My hope and prayer for you is that you take the time out to slow down, look around, and take it all in. I can guarantee you there are people that will be gathering for their Christmas dinner with empty seats at the table who will be wishing they had done that last year. Their time is up. The landscape of their family has changed forever. Never in a million years did they see it coming and yet that's the reality they are forced to face this year and for years to come. There will be tears, there will be hearts aching, but there in the midst of all that pain, will come a peace that surpasses all understanding and that peace will come because of a baby born in a stable over 2000 years ago. Please don't wait for disaster to hit your family before you give yourself a "time-out". Take it, use it wisely and enjoy all the gifts that have come out of the one ultimate gift that can be passed along. The gift of eternal life through Jesus Christ, our Lord.
Merry Christmas to you and yours. May your new sense of reflection and being "aware" last far beyond the holidays and carry you throughout next year. My prayer is that all your seats are full at your dinner table and that all your memories be made from pleasant ones but if you just so happen to have tragedy befall you, my prayer is that you receive that gift of peace that was bought and paid for at the cross. It's one of the sweetest gifts I've ever known. Merry Christmas and God Bless you with His perfect peace. Love y'all.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
A Bit Discouraged
Once again I was denied disability from Social Security. This time it wasn't because they don't think I'm sick enough to qualify but because I haven't gotten enough credits in recent years to qualify. So because I've been too sick to work and they thought that I wasn't sick enough when they deinied me last time, I'm just out of luck. Go figure. Had I gotten the correct diagnosis when I applied the last time, all of this would be a moot point. Now they're telling me that I'm not eligible until I'm 62 and according to the doctors, I won't live that long. It's not so much the money itself (although that would certainly help) but it's the fact that I cannot get any help with insurance, medications or medical expenses without being declared disabled by Social Security. It's a catch-22 and I'm losing big time.
It's disappointing because I have worked hard all my life. I got my first job at 15 and worked up until I could no more. I played by the rules and those rules are doing nothing but shutting me out now. They are also saying I don't qualify for SSI because Oliver makes too much in Social Security. Excuse me? That doesn't even cover our mortgage. sigh...
So as it stands right now, my COBRA insurance will be ending in March with no possibliity of extending since I can't get qualified as disabled under Social Security, I have no way of bringing in any income that I have been able to maintain, I will automatically be disqualified from getting on the transplant list because I will have no insurance and basically I'm screwed through no wrongdoing on my part. Yeah, I'm discouraged but for some reason I still have hope. It's that feeling of hope that drives me to wake up each morning and get out of bed. Somehow I just know deep down in my spirit that God has it all worked out. I just can't see it now and in the natural, things are looking pretty bleak.
As I sit here and look at our Christmas tree and this beautiful house that God blessed us with, I can't help but wonder how much longer I'll be able to enjoy it. I just don't know but I do know that tonight I will be able to see the white lights shine on the tree, turn on our little electric fireplace that also is a heater and have a nice cup of hot chocolate. So for tonight, all is alright. Do I think about tomorrow, oh yeah, but I can't worry about it. Do I cry, you betcha, but I know that each tear I shed is being caught by a loving Father who has it all worked out. I just have to remember that. Some days I do but then there are those moments when my all to human nature kicks in and I start to fret.
I don't know why life has always had to be so doggone difficult for me. I don't understand why I have had to struggle for some of the very basics that mose people take for granted. But I do know that God chose me to walk this path and all I can do is walk it out the best that I know how - with Him by my side. Life didn't turn out the way I dreamed it would but I have always tried to play, to the best of my ability, the hand that I've been dealt. Sometimes I win the game and sometimes I don't, but I always belly up to the table for another round. So dealer, hit me... and let's get on with this game called life.
It's disappointing because I have worked hard all my life. I got my first job at 15 and worked up until I could no more. I played by the rules and those rules are doing nothing but shutting me out now. They are also saying I don't qualify for SSI because Oliver makes too much in Social Security. Excuse me? That doesn't even cover our mortgage. sigh...
So as it stands right now, my COBRA insurance will be ending in March with no possibliity of extending since I can't get qualified as disabled under Social Security, I have no way of bringing in any income that I have been able to maintain, I will automatically be disqualified from getting on the transplant list because I will have no insurance and basically I'm screwed through no wrongdoing on my part. Yeah, I'm discouraged but for some reason I still have hope. It's that feeling of hope that drives me to wake up each morning and get out of bed. Somehow I just know deep down in my spirit that God has it all worked out. I just can't see it now and in the natural, things are looking pretty bleak.
As I sit here and look at our Christmas tree and this beautiful house that God blessed us with, I can't help but wonder how much longer I'll be able to enjoy it. I just don't know but I do know that tonight I will be able to see the white lights shine on the tree, turn on our little electric fireplace that also is a heater and have a nice cup of hot chocolate. So for tonight, all is alright. Do I think about tomorrow, oh yeah, but I can't worry about it. Do I cry, you betcha, but I know that each tear I shed is being caught by a loving Father who has it all worked out. I just have to remember that. Some days I do but then there are those moments when my all to human nature kicks in and I start to fret.
I don't know why life has always had to be so doggone difficult for me. I don't understand why I have had to struggle for some of the very basics that mose people take for granted. But I do know that God chose me to walk this path and all I can do is walk it out the best that I know how - with Him by my side. Life didn't turn out the way I dreamed it would but I have always tried to play, to the best of my ability, the hand that I've been dealt. Sometimes I win the game and sometimes I don't, but I always belly up to the table for another round. So dealer, hit me... and let's get on with this game called life.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Chat with the Lung Transplant Doc
Sorry this has taken so long to get out... I've been a bit overwhelmed by it all and quite frankly have just been hiding out in Farmville and FarmTown. The visit itself went well. We both really liked Dr. Shah and she's a straight-shooter, which I especially appreciate. There were no slam-dunk answers that came out of this meeting though. So if you're wanting to know whether or not I will be listed for a lung transplant, the honest answer is that we just don't know yet. One thing she was able to say with certainty is that she doesn't believe that I have the most aggressive form of the disease, nor do I have the least aggressive form - I fall somewhere in between. That gave me a little better prognosis than if I had the most aggressive form but a little worse than they had originally diagnosed me with in Chicago. Right now, if things continue at the trajectory they are at, I will not live 5 more years but possibly 3, best case scenario and I am not serious enough that I need to be listed immediately. We do have some time.
For now, everything is on hold until the end of January. I went through a battery of tests last week and something of concern showed up on the CT scan regarding my heart. They will be doing further testing of that in January and we'll know more then whether I will be a good candidate for a transplant - medically anyway. The only thing I really need to work on that I have ANY control over is losing about 50 pounds. Actually that should be easier since they are weaning me off of one of the meds that cause weight gain. We discussed the anti-rejection meds and my reaction to the higher doses, and while it's not ideal, she believes we can manage with lower doses that my body can withstand.
The fact that I have AB Negative blood turned out to not be as big of an issue as originally thought, so that was good news. The heart issues are hopefully nothing serious enough to keep me off the transplant list and something that can be fixed, or bad enough to add me to a heart/lung transplant list and that will place me high on the UNOS list. Won't know any more about that until after the further testing.
That's the medical side of things... then there is the insurance. It turns out that the insurance that I have (Aetna) will not cover a transplant done at Vanderbilt. Good news is that this is open enrollment month and I was able to call today and switch over to United Healthcare, which does cover Vanderbilt, so that was a major hurdle that God answered in His perfect timing. Then again, before you start jumping for joy, I only have COBRA coverage until March and it is very, very expensive. We actually have to stop paying our mortgage to cover it, but after talking, prayer and fasting, that is exactly what we are going to do for now. Regardless, I need the insurance for as long as I can get it.
As far as whether I am going to go ahead with moving towards a transplant is a very gray area and one that is causing me the most angst. This is where I really need my praying friends to stand in the gap for me. There is a lot to having a transplant besides just the major surgery that it is. For one thing there is the cost - even with insurance. Then, if I do get listed, I have to stay within 4 hours of Vanderbilt at all times, which means traveling to visit the kids or anything is out for however long I am listed, in case a lung comes in. The wait could be days or years, if one comes up at all. Most people die waiting. If for some reason I do get a transplant, I would be in the hospital for 2-4 weeks and then we would have to move to Nashville for at least 3-6 months and live within 15 minutes of Vanderbilt. Now if I have to live in a city, I have to admit that Nashville is exactly where I'd want to be. If we can sell the house, that won't be as big of an issue as it will be if we can't. Even in the best of times, we couldn't afford both and with the economy the way it is now, we're not sure we'll be able to sell the house at all. Also, Oliver would NOT be able to work as he would have to be with me round the clock for my care. The greatest risks would be infection or rejection and the first year is the hardest. Even with the transplant, the average life expectancy is only 5 years and most of that will be spent in a medical setting. Right now, I have a one to three year life expectancy from the lung disease itself and at anytime one or more of my organs can just shut down because they are not getting the oxygen they need to function. It would be a lot to go through for not a lot of payback. And of course, there are no guarantees that I would even make it off the operating table.
Some days I feel like forging full steam ahead and going for it and other days I don't think it's worth it. Most days I'm caught somewhere in between, feeling like I'm reading a novel of someone else's life and expecting to find all the answers in the next chapter, all neatly bundled together. I do a lot of praying, a little crying, and a whole lot of escaping... That's where Farmville and FarmTown have come in handy. There I can control my environment and if I don't lilke something, erase it and start over. If only life had a delete button.
A few years back I applied for disability and was denied. Now they are saying that I cannot reapply until I am 65 because I have not worked enough quarters in the last 10 years. I will not live until 65. The ONLY chance I have at getting the insurance to continue is if I can get disability. So, I am going to see a lawyer to fight for it. I really need God's favor here. Without it, all chances are right out the window of this even being a possibility. So my life literally will depend on someone in the government making the decision... at least for now. I'm sure I don't even need to tell you what that does to my stomach when I think about it. Ugh.
Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis is a nasty disease. It literally sucks the breath right out of you. If my organs hold up, I can look forward to basically suffocating to death. I have to admit that while I am not afraid of dying itself, suffocating scares the daylights out of me. I try not to think about it too much but it's kind of hard not to when I'm gasping for breath at the least little bit of exertion. Some days I can almost feel my body starting to shut down. Other days I feel like I can live forever, but I have to admit that those days are becoming fewer and farther between. I am overwhelmed by all of this. I remember when I was younger and contemplated what I would do if I were in a situation where I had to make a decision just like this. At that time I thought I knew all the answers and knew what I would do. Now that I am at that crossroads, the answers are not so clear.
If I had a choice in all this, I'd choose for none of this to have happened. I admit that most days I don't even know what to pray for. In order to even have a transplant, someone else would have to die. I cannot pray for that on the best of days. I, for one, know without a doubt where I am going when I leave this earth. I cannot say the same for the person who would be the donor. I have been through so much medically in my lifetime that I am all too aware of how difficult it would be on me and others if I were to take the transplant route and I'm not sure I really want to go through all that given the time I would gain. At what cost? - emotionally, monetarily, physically, relationally, etc. The costs are so high. I am also not a quitter. I am not ready to let this disease win without fighting it with all that I have. If my going through with it all will help them find answers to help someone else down the road, then who am I not to let them do that? It's all so confusing.
Anyway, I know a lot of you have been asking how things went and believe me, as long as this blog is, it really is the short version. There is soooo much more involved that I didn't even address. These were the main issues though. I am glad that I get a little break from it and don't have to decide one way or another until after the holidays. I'm looking forward to enjoying the decorations and hub bub coming up and just taking it all in. I can't do too much myself, but at least my mind is still intact to be able to supervise for what could be the last time. And y'all know I'm still pretty good at that.
I have been blessed in my life and I have no regrets. I wasn't supposed to live after I gave birth to Dan and yet here I am 31 years later and still going relatively strong. I have outlived the age my mother was when she died and that has been a lifelong answer to prayer. My prayer now is that when my time is up, that I get to go peacefully, preferably in my sleep and that I won't have to be a big burden on anyone for my everyday care - meaning I don't want anyone to have to change diapers on me. I know that sounds stupid, but hey, it's how I feel.
If you take anything away from all this, please take care of your bodies and take time to savor every moment of your life - good times and bad. While what I have is not due to any choices that I made in life, I realize that if I had taken better care of myself, I might have had a few more options available to me. As hard as all this is, I have to say that there has been a lot of blessings in it too. I truly have had to take time to smell the roses and learned to appreciate all those little moments in life that really do mean so much. Too many people zoom through life not even paying attention until it's too late. I have become a calmer person and much more appreciative of the small things in life. My pain level is not so great that it isn't managed pretty much with medications. There are days when even those don't seem to help much but most days I make it through just fine. I thank God for the doctors and the medications each day. Without them both, I would not be here today. I thank God for the people in my life that make my life even worth living. A lot of them I am only in contact with here on facebook but they still make my heart smile and I love them for that. There's a good chance you're one of them and I thank-you very much. ((hugs))
Please continue to pray and know that each prayer brings me a peace through all of this. Despite the difficult circumstances, I still find reason to smile and even laugh every day. Without those prayers, I wouldn't be able to. I can't tell you what to pray for because I really don't know myself. I guess my best recommendation is that you pray that I stay in God's will and am able to hear His direction, leading me in the way He wants me to go. Of course, please continue to pray for Oliver. While I am pretty good at hiding my illness from everyone else for the short times that I am out of the house, he is stuck here with me day in and day out. It is stressful on him because he can't fix it or make it better. Oh and can you please pray that Publishers Clearing House comes to our house the end of the month? Hey, it's worth a shot... LOL Thanks for everything. Love y'all. <3 <3 <3
For now, everything is on hold until the end of January. I went through a battery of tests last week and something of concern showed up on the CT scan regarding my heart. They will be doing further testing of that in January and we'll know more then whether I will be a good candidate for a transplant - medically anyway. The only thing I really need to work on that I have ANY control over is losing about 50 pounds. Actually that should be easier since they are weaning me off of one of the meds that cause weight gain. We discussed the anti-rejection meds and my reaction to the higher doses, and while it's not ideal, she believes we can manage with lower doses that my body can withstand.
The fact that I have AB Negative blood turned out to not be as big of an issue as originally thought, so that was good news. The heart issues are hopefully nothing serious enough to keep me off the transplant list and something that can be fixed, or bad enough to add me to a heart/lung transplant list and that will place me high on the UNOS list. Won't know any more about that until after the further testing.
That's the medical side of things... then there is the insurance. It turns out that the insurance that I have (Aetna) will not cover a transplant done at Vanderbilt. Good news is that this is open enrollment month and I was able to call today and switch over to United Healthcare, which does cover Vanderbilt, so that was a major hurdle that God answered in His perfect timing. Then again, before you start jumping for joy, I only have COBRA coverage until March and it is very, very expensive. We actually have to stop paying our mortgage to cover it, but after talking, prayer and fasting, that is exactly what we are going to do for now. Regardless, I need the insurance for as long as I can get it.
As far as whether I am going to go ahead with moving towards a transplant is a very gray area and one that is causing me the most angst. This is where I really need my praying friends to stand in the gap for me. There is a lot to having a transplant besides just the major surgery that it is. For one thing there is the cost - even with insurance. Then, if I do get listed, I have to stay within 4 hours of Vanderbilt at all times, which means traveling to visit the kids or anything is out for however long I am listed, in case a lung comes in. The wait could be days or years, if one comes up at all. Most people die waiting. If for some reason I do get a transplant, I would be in the hospital for 2-4 weeks and then we would have to move to Nashville for at least 3-6 months and live within 15 minutes of Vanderbilt. Now if I have to live in a city, I have to admit that Nashville is exactly where I'd want to be. If we can sell the house, that won't be as big of an issue as it will be if we can't. Even in the best of times, we couldn't afford both and with the economy the way it is now, we're not sure we'll be able to sell the house at all. Also, Oliver would NOT be able to work as he would have to be with me round the clock for my care. The greatest risks would be infection or rejection and the first year is the hardest. Even with the transplant, the average life expectancy is only 5 years and most of that will be spent in a medical setting. Right now, I have a one to three year life expectancy from the lung disease itself and at anytime one or more of my organs can just shut down because they are not getting the oxygen they need to function. It would be a lot to go through for not a lot of payback. And of course, there are no guarantees that I would even make it off the operating table.
Some days I feel like forging full steam ahead and going for it and other days I don't think it's worth it. Most days I'm caught somewhere in between, feeling like I'm reading a novel of someone else's life and expecting to find all the answers in the next chapter, all neatly bundled together. I do a lot of praying, a little crying, and a whole lot of escaping... That's where Farmville and FarmTown have come in handy. There I can control my environment and if I don't lilke something, erase it and start over. If only life had a delete button.
A few years back I applied for disability and was denied. Now they are saying that I cannot reapply until I am 65 because I have not worked enough quarters in the last 10 years. I will not live until 65. The ONLY chance I have at getting the insurance to continue is if I can get disability. So, I am going to see a lawyer to fight for it. I really need God's favor here. Without it, all chances are right out the window of this even being a possibility. So my life literally will depend on someone in the government making the decision... at least for now. I'm sure I don't even need to tell you what that does to my stomach when I think about it. Ugh.
Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis is a nasty disease. It literally sucks the breath right out of you. If my organs hold up, I can look forward to basically suffocating to death. I have to admit that while I am not afraid of dying itself, suffocating scares the daylights out of me. I try not to think about it too much but it's kind of hard not to when I'm gasping for breath at the least little bit of exertion. Some days I can almost feel my body starting to shut down. Other days I feel like I can live forever, but I have to admit that those days are becoming fewer and farther between. I am overwhelmed by all of this. I remember when I was younger and contemplated what I would do if I were in a situation where I had to make a decision just like this. At that time I thought I knew all the answers and knew what I would do. Now that I am at that crossroads, the answers are not so clear.
If I had a choice in all this, I'd choose for none of this to have happened. I admit that most days I don't even know what to pray for. In order to even have a transplant, someone else would have to die. I cannot pray for that on the best of days. I, for one, know without a doubt where I am going when I leave this earth. I cannot say the same for the person who would be the donor. I have been through so much medically in my lifetime that I am all too aware of how difficult it would be on me and others if I were to take the transplant route and I'm not sure I really want to go through all that given the time I would gain. At what cost? - emotionally, monetarily, physically, relationally, etc. The costs are so high. I am also not a quitter. I am not ready to let this disease win without fighting it with all that I have. If my going through with it all will help them find answers to help someone else down the road, then who am I not to let them do that? It's all so confusing.
Anyway, I know a lot of you have been asking how things went and believe me, as long as this blog is, it really is the short version. There is soooo much more involved that I didn't even address. These were the main issues though. I am glad that I get a little break from it and don't have to decide one way or another until after the holidays. I'm looking forward to enjoying the decorations and hub bub coming up and just taking it all in. I can't do too much myself, but at least my mind is still intact to be able to supervise for what could be the last time. And y'all know I'm still pretty good at that.
I have been blessed in my life and I have no regrets. I wasn't supposed to live after I gave birth to Dan and yet here I am 31 years later and still going relatively strong. I have outlived the age my mother was when she died and that has been a lifelong answer to prayer. My prayer now is that when my time is up, that I get to go peacefully, preferably in my sleep and that I won't have to be a big burden on anyone for my everyday care - meaning I don't want anyone to have to change diapers on me. I know that sounds stupid, but hey, it's how I feel.
If you take anything away from all this, please take care of your bodies and take time to savor every moment of your life - good times and bad. While what I have is not due to any choices that I made in life, I realize that if I had taken better care of myself, I might have had a few more options available to me. As hard as all this is, I have to say that there has been a lot of blessings in it too. I truly have had to take time to smell the roses and learned to appreciate all those little moments in life that really do mean so much. Too many people zoom through life not even paying attention until it's too late. I have become a calmer person and much more appreciative of the small things in life. My pain level is not so great that it isn't managed pretty much with medications. There are days when even those don't seem to help much but most days I make it through just fine. I thank God for the doctors and the medications each day. Without them both, I would not be here today. I thank God for the people in my life that make my life even worth living. A lot of them I am only in contact with here on facebook but they still make my heart smile and I love them for that. There's a good chance you're one of them and I thank-you very much. ((hugs))
Please continue to pray and know that each prayer brings me a peace through all of this. Despite the difficult circumstances, I still find reason to smile and even laugh every day. Without those prayers, I wouldn't be able to. I can't tell you what to pray for because I really don't know myself. I guess my best recommendation is that you pray that I stay in God's will and am able to hear His direction, leading me in the way He wants me to go. Of course, please continue to pray for Oliver. While I am pretty good at hiding my illness from everyone else for the short times that I am out of the house, he is stuck here with me day in and day out. It is stressful on him because he can't fix it or make it better. Oh and can you please pray that Publishers Clearing House comes to our house the end of the month? Hey, it's worth a shot... LOL Thanks for everything. Love y'all. <3 <3 <3
Sunday, September 26, 2010
I Saw Jesus Today
Yep, I really saw Jesus today. No, I didn't see a robe-clad, sandal-wearing, long-hair image of Him but I did see Him. I saw Him when I got to church and a nice gentleman opened the door for us with a smile - and funny thing was, it was our turn to greet, he was just there before us and did it anyway. I saw Him in the bright, expectant eyes of a little girl heading to children's church to hear a new Bible story. I saw Him in the excited eyes of a college student who attended orientation yesterday and is heading down a new path. I saw Him in the proud look of a mother on that same student.
I saw Him in the forlorn eyes of a widow, who was feeling lonely and down. I saw Him in the gentle hug of one friend comforting another. I heard Him in the kind words of encouragement being shared between people. I saw Him in the eyes of a lady facing a biopsy this week as she struggled between fear and resting in Him. I saw Him in the flicker of hope of someone who is straddling the fence on whether to follow Him or follow the world. I saw and heard Him in the eyes and voices of the worship team as they brought us before His throne. I saw and heard Him in the face and the words of the Pastor as he delievered a timely and needed Word. I saw Him in the expectant faces of people coming up for prayer and I saw Him in the eyes, words and touch of those praying for those in need.
I saw Him in the soft movement of a teen tethered to a wheelchair all his life as he gently set his head on his grandfather's shoulder and patted his arm with a sparkle in his eye. I saw Him in the loving kiss on the top of that teen's head from the grandfather who has tirelessly and self-sacrificingly provided for this child's every need - emotionally, physically, mentally, spriitually, financially and so very lovingly. I saw Him in the eyes of the grandmother who has reared two generations of children without so much as a whimper. I saw Him in the eyes of the those who witness moments like that as they look around and see if anyone else did - and the sweet smile of acknowledgement when they find someone else who has.
And yet the best place I saw Him was yet to come... I went to the rest room and as I stood there washing my hands, I glanced in the mirror and I saw Him in the face being reflected back at me. Yep, I saw Jesus today - have you?
I saw Him in the forlorn eyes of a widow, who was feeling lonely and down. I saw Him in the gentle hug of one friend comforting another. I heard Him in the kind words of encouragement being shared between people. I saw Him in the eyes of a lady facing a biopsy this week as she struggled between fear and resting in Him. I saw Him in the flicker of hope of someone who is straddling the fence on whether to follow Him or follow the world. I saw and heard Him in the eyes and voices of the worship team as they brought us before His throne. I saw and heard Him in the face and the words of the Pastor as he delievered a timely and needed Word. I saw Him in the expectant faces of people coming up for prayer and I saw Him in the eyes, words and touch of those praying for those in need.
I saw Him in the soft movement of a teen tethered to a wheelchair all his life as he gently set his head on his grandfather's shoulder and patted his arm with a sparkle in his eye. I saw Him in the loving kiss on the top of that teen's head from the grandfather who has tirelessly and self-sacrificingly provided for this child's every need - emotionally, physically, mentally, spriitually, financially and so very lovingly. I saw Him in the eyes of the grandmother who has reared two generations of children without so much as a whimper. I saw Him in the eyes of the those who witness moments like that as they look around and see if anyone else did - and the sweet smile of acknowledgement when they find someone else who has.
And yet the best place I saw Him was yet to come... I went to the rest room and as I stood there washing my hands, I glanced in the mirror and I saw Him in the face being reflected back at me. Yep, I saw Jesus today - have you?
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
A Tenacious Spirit...
I was once told that I have a very tenacious spirit. I laughed it off at the time and thought it was just a unique way of saying that I was stubborn. As the years have gone by, those words have stuck in my head and I haven't been able to quite let them go. So, like any good student of life would do, I explored the actual meaning of the word - tenacious. Webster defines it as "tending to hold fast; not easily pulled apart; tending to adhere or cling; persistent in maintaining, adhering to or seeking something valued or desired." Hmmm. Guess that person had a point. The more those words have steeped in my brain, the more real and accurate they seem.
I am generally a private person. Oh, I'm outgoing and will talk to anybody about just about anything and occasionally use things that have happened in my life to prove a point, but for the most part, very few people indeed know what makes me who I am. Very few know of the struggles and obstacles I have faced in my life. As I sit here with seemingly the weight of the world on my shoulders and my entire life in an upheaval, God has placed it on my heart to share some of what I've been through. So, for a private person who hates to journal, this will not be an easy task. Funny thing about knowing that your time to meet your maker is drawing ever closer - you certainly don't want to NOT do what He's asking you to do. Nope, I don't want to stand before the judgement seat and find out that God had wanted to use something that I had been through to help someone else and that because of my pride, insecurities and/or fear, I didn't listen and obey. I'll be blogging as God puts things on my heart to share - in no particular order. You're welcome to come along for the ride. A lot of the things I'll be sharing I have never spoken of before. I may be changing names to keep people I love - and even those who I may not deem as my favorite peeps - from getting hurt. My point is not to cause pain to anyone, I just need to share the experience - names and specifics are truly irrelevant. The rest is in God's hands on how He wants it to touch people. Some things will be hard to read and even harder to write, but hang in there with me. In each and every instance, I have seen God's light beckoning me forward and carrying me through.
Getting back to the tenacious spirit. I have had to fight an uncooperative body my whole life. Many times through the years I have come close to not pulling through with the doctors having no idea why. Too many times to even share in one blog. I have caused many a doctor sleepless nights I'm sure. But I was born a fighter. I recall my mom sharing that I gave her quite the scare in the delivery room. As they slapped my bottom, I didn't make a peep. They cleared my airways and tried again - still no sound. Ok, you can quit smiilng now, I know I've made up for that in spades, but to a delivering mother who didn't even have time to get any meds or an epidural before delivery, that lack of sound was frightening. The doctors scrambled to see what, if anything, was wrong but they just couldn't figure it out. My breathing was labored at first but quickly I caught on and before long, all was well. The doctor told my mom that I was fighter and somewhere deep down inside, those words must have taken root.
I spent my toddler years with tonsillitis, ear infections, sinus infections and myriad colds and allergies. My biggest budget buster for school supplies was never the paper or pencils, but the boxes of Kleenex. Most kids came with a box to share the first day of school to share for the year and I had to lug four or five boxes myself and still would have to bring more before the school year was done. I remember like it was yesterday when I had to finally have my tonsils removed. It was the same day my first grade class was going on a field trip. Instead of boarding a bus to go to Hawthorn Melody Farms to see real cows get milked, I was being whisked away in a car to Lutheran General Hospital for surgery. The tonsils came out fine but for some reason, I had trouble with the anesthesia and breathing. Instead of being able to go home in a day or so, I was stuck in the hospital for a week - still stewing because I had to miss the field trip, my FIRST field trip no less. They had trouble stopping the bleeding and getting my oxygen levels regulated. No explanation as to why and quite frankly, I guess I had the doctor a bit concerned because every time they thought they had me stabilized, something would go wrong. But he knew I was fighting and even he said no medicine was a match for that. My mom, up until the day she died, attributes my health scares to her consistently premature graying hair and always wondered if it was all because secretly I was thrilled with living on root beer popsicles.
I never was one to be able to even think about perfect attendance at school. Most years I was perilously close to being held back because of days missed. My only saving grace was that my grades were excellent and that I did work my butt off - for the most part. There were subjects that I wasn't thrilled with but on the ones that I was, there was no stopping me. I'd chomp on every piece of information that I could sink my teeth into. I'd sleep, eat and breathe it until I felt that I really knew the subject and not just enough to get a passing grade. Guess I was a bit tenacious in my research. I was a standard fixture at the library where I aced the dewey decimal system and could find a book faster than many a full time librarian. Today I have a world of information at my fingertips and only a mouse click away.
When my mother became ill and the doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong, I'd scour the limited medical resources we had at our local library to see if I could "help". In the meantime, I watched as my mom shuttled from doctor to doctor trying to find answers as to why her body was failing her and doctor after doctor thinking that it was all in her head. They'd admit that she didn't look well but no tests were coming up with definitive answers, and quite frankly, they didn't bother to even look beyond the obvious. It was hard for her and very frustrating and hard for me because I felt helpless. One of the hardest things I've ever faced in my life was watching someone I love die and not be able to do one thing about it. I watched not only her body diminish but her will and her spirit as well. I'll go into more of that at another time.
On a cold January afternoon, while I was at graduation practice, my mother slipped away from us. I came home to find her lifeless body on the couch on the very day I was graduating from high school. I called the ambulance and stood by waiting to hear the words that I knew were coming... "I'm sorry, but she's gone." Somewhere in that time frame, life stood still. I remember going through the motioins but somehow I was protected from feeling the pain. I graduated from high school that night and in one day my entire world changed. It didn't stop there and actually my tenacity served me well in the days to come. Again, that's something I'll be touching on at another time.
I'll be sharing about having to fight for rights, against family, against doctors, against illnesses and a host of other things. Yet through each and every struggle, I've seen God's blessings shine through. I've seen how the seemingly separate pieces of a puzzle that make no sense are fitting together to form the perfect picture of what has become my life. I have not been thrilled with many of the things I have been through, but as I sit here and glance back at each and every piece, I'm beginning to see how each was needed to fill in the tapestry of my life. I have some tattered threads and there are places yet to be filled, but I'm finally able to see some of the ways in which God has carried me through each and every circumstance and somehow in the midst of it all, I became stronger, and yes, even more tenacious. I am not a quitter. I admit that the news of late has not been good and the doctors are giving up on me, but you know what? They've given up on me before and I'm still here. I will continue to fight with every breathe I take until I breathe my last. And that, my friend, you can take to the Bank of Tenacity. More later....
I am generally a private person. Oh, I'm outgoing and will talk to anybody about just about anything and occasionally use things that have happened in my life to prove a point, but for the most part, very few people indeed know what makes me who I am. Very few know of the struggles and obstacles I have faced in my life. As I sit here with seemingly the weight of the world on my shoulders and my entire life in an upheaval, God has placed it on my heart to share some of what I've been through. So, for a private person who hates to journal, this will not be an easy task. Funny thing about knowing that your time to meet your maker is drawing ever closer - you certainly don't want to NOT do what He's asking you to do. Nope, I don't want to stand before the judgement seat and find out that God had wanted to use something that I had been through to help someone else and that because of my pride, insecurities and/or fear, I didn't listen and obey. I'll be blogging as God puts things on my heart to share - in no particular order. You're welcome to come along for the ride. A lot of the things I'll be sharing I have never spoken of before. I may be changing names to keep people I love - and even those who I may not deem as my favorite peeps - from getting hurt. My point is not to cause pain to anyone, I just need to share the experience - names and specifics are truly irrelevant. The rest is in God's hands on how He wants it to touch people. Some things will be hard to read and even harder to write, but hang in there with me. In each and every instance, I have seen God's light beckoning me forward and carrying me through.
Getting back to the tenacious spirit. I have had to fight an uncooperative body my whole life. Many times through the years I have come close to not pulling through with the doctors having no idea why. Too many times to even share in one blog. I have caused many a doctor sleepless nights I'm sure. But I was born a fighter. I recall my mom sharing that I gave her quite the scare in the delivery room. As they slapped my bottom, I didn't make a peep. They cleared my airways and tried again - still no sound. Ok, you can quit smiilng now, I know I've made up for that in spades, but to a delivering mother who didn't even have time to get any meds or an epidural before delivery, that lack of sound was frightening. The doctors scrambled to see what, if anything, was wrong but they just couldn't figure it out. My breathing was labored at first but quickly I caught on and before long, all was well. The doctor told my mom that I was fighter and somewhere deep down inside, those words must have taken root.
I spent my toddler years with tonsillitis, ear infections, sinus infections and myriad colds and allergies. My biggest budget buster for school supplies was never the paper or pencils, but the boxes of Kleenex. Most kids came with a box to share the first day of school to share for the year and I had to lug four or five boxes myself and still would have to bring more before the school year was done. I remember like it was yesterday when I had to finally have my tonsils removed. It was the same day my first grade class was going on a field trip. Instead of boarding a bus to go to Hawthorn Melody Farms to see real cows get milked, I was being whisked away in a car to Lutheran General Hospital for surgery. The tonsils came out fine but for some reason, I had trouble with the anesthesia and breathing. Instead of being able to go home in a day or so, I was stuck in the hospital for a week - still stewing because I had to miss the field trip, my FIRST field trip no less. They had trouble stopping the bleeding and getting my oxygen levels regulated. No explanation as to why and quite frankly, I guess I had the doctor a bit concerned because every time they thought they had me stabilized, something would go wrong. But he knew I was fighting and even he said no medicine was a match for that. My mom, up until the day she died, attributes my health scares to her consistently premature graying hair and always wondered if it was all because secretly I was thrilled with living on root beer popsicles.
I never was one to be able to even think about perfect attendance at school. Most years I was perilously close to being held back because of days missed. My only saving grace was that my grades were excellent and that I did work my butt off - for the most part. There were subjects that I wasn't thrilled with but on the ones that I was, there was no stopping me. I'd chomp on every piece of information that I could sink my teeth into. I'd sleep, eat and breathe it until I felt that I really knew the subject and not just enough to get a passing grade. Guess I was a bit tenacious in my research. I was a standard fixture at the library where I aced the dewey decimal system and could find a book faster than many a full time librarian. Today I have a world of information at my fingertips and only a mouse click away.
When my mother became ill and the doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong, I'd scour the limited medical resources we had at our local library to see if I could "help". In the meantime, I watched as my mom shuttled from doctor to doctor trying to find answers as to why her body was failing her and doctor after doctor thinking that it was all in her head. They'd admit that she didn't look well but no tests were coming up with definitive answers, and quite frankly, they didn't bother to even look beyond the obvious. It was hard for her and very frustrating and hard for me because I felt helpless. One of the hardest things I've ever faced in my life was watching someone I love die and not be able to do one thing about it. I watched not only her body diminish but her will and her spirit as well. I'll go into more of that at another time.
On a cold January afternoon, while I was at graduation practice, my mother slipped away from us. I came home to find her lifeless body on the couch on the very day I was graduating from high school. I called the ambulance and stood by waiting to hear the words that I knew were coming... "I'm sorry, but she's gone." Somewhere in that time frame, life stood still. I remember going through the motioins but somehow I was protected from feeling the pain. I graduated from high school that night and in one day my entire world changed. It didn't stop there and actually my tenacity served me well in the days to come. Again, that's something I'll be touching on at another time.
I'll be sharing about having to fight for rights, against family, against doctors, against illnesses and a host of other things. Yet through each and every struggle, I've seen God's blessings shine through. I've seen how the seemingly separate pieces of a puzzle that make no sense are fitting together to form the perfect picture of what has become my life. I have not been thrilled with many of the things I have been through, but as I sit here and glance back at each and every piece, I'm beginning to see how each was needed to fill in the tapestry of my life. I have some tattered threads and there are places yet to be filled, but I'm finally able to see some of the ways in which God has carried me through each and every circumstance and somehow in the midst of it all, I became stronger, and yes, even more tenacious. I am not a quitter. I admit that the news of late has not been good and the doctors are giving up on me, but you know what? They've given up on me before and I'm still here. I will continue to fight with every breathe I take until I breathe my last. And that, my friend, you can take to the Bank of Tenacity. More later....
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