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.

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.

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

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?

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....

And so it goes...

Well, I had my follow-up appointment at Vanderbilt on Tuesday. Dr. Sheller really is a special doctor. He has a quiet way about him and is so willing to listen to and answer any questions I may have. That's rare these days. He looked at the CT scan cd that I brought with me and was not pleased at all. He's going to have his team of radiologists look at it and see what they say. Basically though, there really isn't much they can do but just monitor me and try to make me comfortable. There was no need to run any more tests because there isn't anything more that they can do for me anyway that isn't already being done. If I make it through this episode of pulmonary embolism and pneumonia, there probably will be another one come about that I don't. We're taking precautions against the pulmonary emboli with the blood thinners, but they are no guarantee - just up my chances of not getting one a bit. Other than that, we've done all that can be done. He's agreed to leave me off the Imuran for at least another couple of weeks. Since I'm not feeling a whole lot better, I'm willing to concede that my taking the Imuran and getting the pneumonia and PE just might have been coincidental. Either way, I'm glad to have a break from it.

So basically, they just sent me home and are hoping for the best. Kinda sad when that starts to sink in. It's not easy for the doctors to admit and certainly not what you want to hear but I appreciate his honesty and know that if there was more he could do - he'd do it. Not that he's giving up, new stuff comes up everyday and I am one of their favorite patients - which is funny in itself. The rest is out of their hands, which has been the truth all along. I'm in God's hands and quite frankly, there is no place I'd rather be. And yet, I am also human, with human feelings and emotions. The song that keeps playing in my head is Tim McGraw's "Live Like You Were Dying" and it has always touched my heart. This week though, there is a new thought that has come to mind that I find is much harder to swallow... die like you are living. Think about it. The easy part is to appreciate all the blessings in my life. The people, the relationships, God's awesome beauty and works all around me, the list goes on. What's hard is not to dwell on knowing that it will all come to an end. One day I'll just cease to exist in this world. Of course, I realize we all will, but it's hard not to let that take front and center. It's hard to go through the everyday motions of life without wondering "what's the point?" In a lot of ways, it's freeing. I no longer fret over it if I have a scoop of ice cream while I'm watching tv at night - what's it going to do, kill me? But in a lot of ways, the everyday routine of things seems pointless. Oh I brush my teeth and shower everyday - Lord knows I couldn't stand it if I didn't. But I no longer worry that the house isn't spotless or that a picture isn't hanging just right. I no longer fuss over the towels being folded a certain way in the closet - yeah, I was that anal. It just doesn't matter. What I do notice and appreciate is that the towels are clean and where I can reach them, no matter how they're folded. The dishes are done and put away - most of the time - and that's a good feeling, although it's frustrating that I can't be the one doing them all the time. I do what I can but the bulk of the responsibilities for everyday life have fallen on Oliver.

Yesterday coming home we had the most amazing journey. Instead of coming home the interstate, we decided to take the Natchez Trace Parkway. It's a scenic route with hills and trees and loaded with wildlife. There are historical markers and information every couple of miles. We even stopped at the burial ground of Meriwether Lewis from Lewis and Clark fame. We saw deer and turkeys, butterflies galore, birds flying everywhere. We stopped at one point for a bathroom break and a quick lunch and just were mesmerized by the intrinsic beauty of God's creation. We saw an eagle fly high above the fields, with cows and goats below grazing and fish jumping in the pond. We saw a farmer in the distance moving a hale bale to a feeder in the horse corral. We listened to the quiet rustle of leaves as the wind blew through the trees as the brewing storm was picking up steam. We sat there, each lost in their own throughs. Me, sorry I didn't bring my camera, yet knowing that some things just can't be caught through a lens. This was a God moment for me. Somewhere in the turbulance that has entered my life, I found a peace that just cannot be explained. For just a moment I felt like that eagle, facing towards the storm, head on, and allowing the winds of that storm to lift me higher than I could have gotten on my power alone. Soaring high above all the storms rolling in and gaining strength in doing so. I can't stop the storms but that doesn't mean I can't use their power to get me higher. That eagle didn't stop one drop from coming down but it didn't get wet. It flew above it all. I want to be able to do the same.

It's hard not to focus on the storm when you just don't feel well. I'm in pain and it's hard to breathe most times, sometimes harder than others. I'm taking the meds as directed and doing everything that I'm supposed to. That's the ironic thing about this illness called Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis. You don't do anything to cause it and there isn't anything you can take to make it better. It is incurable. The only "cure" would be a lung transplant. With my insurance ending in December, my not having the cash on hand to be able to pay my way through it, already not being able to tolerate the heavy drugs I would need to take, my history now of pulmonary emobli four times, being diabetic, etc. - um, I'm just not a good candidate for one. So here I sit with the reality of the situation being that I may have only a few more weeks, perhaps a year, outside chance for two. Still I believe that my healing was bought and paid for at the cross. I truly believe in God's divine wisdom and that He can and will heal me in His time - no matter what form that healing may take. I don't need to grow new lungs and do cartwheels down the road to know that there is a God who loves me beyond compare, but I'm willing to do just that if His desire is for me to do so. I'm willing to share the testimony and the road that He has me on. The tragedy would not to allow Him to use me and my story to bolster someone else walking a similar path. I've read the stories of miracles and seen many myself. Enough to know that they are real and they are special. But I've also seen enough very faithful people lose their battles to know that not everyone wins on this earth. I believe that God is in control and I want His will to be done in my life - the good and the bad. As long as He is for me, I truly know that no one and no illness can stand against me and win.

I debated long and hard with myself on whether to open up and be honest with what I'm feeling to people. It's hard to be vulnerable and put yourself out there - raw and open. It would be easy to go around saying that I'm doing great - after all, I don't look THAT sick (although these past two weeks I haven't looked too hot). It's harder to be honest and to see the uneasiness of people because they just don't know what to say. I know their hearts when they tell me to get better soon.... kinda wish I could myself. Lord knows I'm fighting with all that I have and I will continue to do so until my very last breath. I'm not afraid of dying, I am concerned with getting up there and standing before God having missed doing something that I was supposed to do on this earth. So I will share my journey with those willinng to go down the road with me and continue to pray for the lost and for those who are going through all kinds of maladies in life. I will continue to do my part as best I can. I will continue to be - fearfully and wonderfully made - for as long as God allows me to be on this planet. I'm willing to answer any questiong anybody has, so if there is something you want to know, ask away. I'll be honest that my emotions are all over the board but I know that my faith is strong. It's been tested time and time again and I know without a doubt, that's a test I'm passing with flying colors. Still working on the fleshly things though.

I am reminded of a quote from the late, great, D. L. Moody. ""Someday you will read in the papers that Moody is dead. Don't you believe a word of it. At that moment I shall be more alive than I am now. I was born of the flesh in 1837, I was born of the spirit in 1855. That which is born of the flesh may die. That which is born of the Spirit shall live forever." Ok, my years would be filled in as 1956 and 1963, respectively, and the name will change to Hassett, but the sentiment is the same. In the meantime, I will be taking things one day at a time. Hoping and praying that this latest episode is just a minor setback in the scheme of things and that soon I will be up and running around with the rest of my clan. But for now, as I doze in my chair, I'm flying high above the clouds on the wings of an eagle, not totally oblivious to the storms heading my way and circling around me, but refusing to let them define who I am. I'm above those storms, safe and protected, soaring higher than I ever knew I could.

As most of you know, I have been battling with health issues for a long, long time. Most of you have no idea what all is going on but have been keeping me in prayer anyway and I appreciate it so much. I've always been meaning to explain exactly what's going on and after the scare this weekend, realize there's no time like the present. If you don't want the graphic details, you can stop here with the diagnosis of Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis. If you want to continue on with me, here we go.

Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis is basically scar tissue that is building up on my lungs. There is no cure. The prognosis is death, usually in 2-4 years from diagnosis. As the scar tissue builds up, my lungs become less able to move oxygen to my brain and other organs. Usually death comes from respiratory failure, pulmonary emboli and/or pneumonia. Currently my lungs are only working at about 40% of what they should be. So I become tired quite easily and it doesn't take much for me to become short of breath. There have been some cases of prolonging life and life quality with immuno-suppressant drugs. They are basically like chemo drugs that kill off the immune system in the hopes that it will slow the body down from trying to fight itself. I was put on Imuran two weeks ago and had a very rough time of it.

By last week, I was becoming very weak and breathing was becoming very difficult, even without any exertion. On Friday I was scheduled to get a routine blood test to see how my body is responding medically to the new medicine. When I got to the doctor's office, I was running a fever of 102 and looking like something the cat dragged in. My doc was not happy with the way I was breathing or looking so she sent me over to the hospital for blood work and a chest x-ray. She called me later that evening and told me that I had some pneumonia and she was going to start me on antibiotics right away. She also told me that if I wasn't better or got worse that I should go to the ER and be checked out.

So we filled the prescription and I took my first dose Friday night. On Saturday, I was feeling a whole lot worse but figured I'd better give the medicine some time to work. All during the day I kept debating back and forth whether I should go in, each time talking myself out of it... we can't afford it, let the medicine do its job, etc. But it hurts... well, that could be from the pneumonia. But it feels like it did when I've had a blood clot before... well it could be nothing and you'd just be wasting their time and spending money you don't have. You know how that battle in the mind goes. On Sunday, pretty much the same thing.

Oliver went to church on Sunday and when I got up, I really thought I should go in. Had he taken his cell phone with him, I would have called him and told him I was doing just that. But since it was sitting on the bathroom counter, that wasn't going to work. Quite frankly, I didn't have the strength to walk all the way into the ktichen at church to tell him so I decided I'd just wait until he got home. I didn't want him to come home and see the car and me gone. By the time he got home, I was pretty bad but he was so tired. He'd done the catering all by himself since I wasn't there to do my part. So, I thought I'd just let him rest and I went and laid down. The whole time I was laying there, I kept thinking about when my friend died a couple of years ago. She died from a pulmonary embolism.

I went through the same checklist of symptoms that I had discussed with her on the phone the day she died. All of which I was answering yes to myself. My last words to her were, if you have any of those symptoms, don't wait... the last thing you want to do is mess with a blood clot. She died later that day because she didn't go get it checked out. By the time she had her daughter call the ambulance, it was too late. So there I am, lying in bed with this little voice playing in my head - are you going to listen to your own advice? Ok. I came out to tell Oliver that we should go but he was busy making me dinner and it did smell so good. Alright, I at least can have dinner before we go. By now my fever was down to about 101 and I didn't seem quite as worried. After dinner we started watching tv. Then I took a shower and changed into my nightgown and figured I'd hold out until morning and call the doc back.

As the night wore on, I was having more and more pain in my right lung which was weird because the pneumonia was worse in my left lung and I wasn't having any real pain there, just pressure. Finally around 11:30 pm I got up to go to the bathroom and stumbled a few times on the way in there. Something was terribly wrong. Quite frankly, I was afraid that if I went to sleep, I wouldn't wake up. I was that scared. I came out and asked him (finally) to take me in to the hospital. I still wasn't sure whether to go to the local one or up to Nashville where my pulmonologist was. It came down to feeling I didn't have the strength to make it to Nashville by car so we went local. We knew that if it was bad enough, they'd life flight me to Vanderbilt. We do have life flight insurance - wouldn't live without it here in the country.

It didn't take long for them to confirm that the pneumonia wasn't getting better. Since the pain seemed to be on the other side from where the worse pneumonia was showing, the ER doc decided to do a CT scan, given my history of pulmonary emboli and sure enough, there was a small clot in my right lower lobe of my lung. They admitted me to get me started on anticoagulants to thin out my blood and at least try to stabilize my temp, etc. By early morning, the hosptal doctor was trying to get Vanderbilt to take me but they were full. Since I was stable here, it was decided to keep me here and just do a phone consult with my doc's office up there. My regular pulmonologist is out of state this week, so it was a colleague that pulled my charts and talked with the docs here. They took me off the Imuran and I feel much better that I'm not on it.

So now I'm home. I'll be on blood thinners the rest of my life and that's fine. I always knew that if I had another episode with a clot, that would happen. I need to follow up with my pulmonologist on Tuesday and I'm just praying that they don't put me back on the Imuran. This was a close call. I almost didn't make it through and reality started setting in that one of these days, I won't. Not that any of us have guarantees, but it is a heavy load to have hanging over your head. There are a lot of people who live every day with that reality and it's not a pleasant state to be in. What's a simple cold for one person can literally kill me. That being said, I also know there is the Great Healer and He is working on my behalf. Apparently He wasn't ready for me yet or I wouldn't be here writing this now.

As you know, Oliver has been out of a job since last September. Just when we thought things were starting to look up, the bottom has fallen out yet again. Oliver was supposed to start a consulting job on Tuesday to help get a local restaruant back on its feet and the owner has entered rehab and the job is out the window. His wife fired everyone and is closing down for now. So we're still at no income, my breathing and lung issues are getting worse rapidly and quite frankly, not only do we not see light at the end of the tunnel but we're not even sure what tunnel we're in anymore. Depressed? um, yeah a little. I'd be lying if I told you we weren't. I thank God everyday, though, that we have him to lean on. He has a plan, we just don't know what it is. But one thing is for sure, we don't doubt that He does. THAT is what keeps us going. All this other stuff is nuisance. We're all going to die. The reality for me is that I'm slowly heading towards a sudden death. My body is shutting down, it cannot be stopped and one day it will just cease to exist. My spirit will move on and I will be leaving people behind that I care deeply about. Scary? yeah but also in a strange way, peaceful. I know there will be an end to all these hassles and that helps me keep things in a bit better perspective.

My health insurance will run out in Decemeber. At that time, who knows what will happen. Even my meds won't be covered anymore although we're working on getting help with those. I'll lose my specialists at Vanderbilt and have to rely on doctors who don't know how to deal with IPF. In the meantime, stress makes matters worse, so I cannot allow it to stress me out or I literally can't breathe. I still have the lump in my neck to be checked out and who knows what medical mystery road that will take me down. I'm getting tired. There are days when I want to take the boatload of meds I take now, chuck them out the window and let the chips fall where they may. And yet, I'm not ready to give up fighting. I kinda like living. I've gotten a lot out of it and would like to see more days, but I would prefer more quality days, that's for sure.

So if some days I seem a little down or frustrated, please bear with me. I try not to drag anybody else down with me. I wish I could say I was going to live forever - I'm not. I struggle with pulling back from everyone I love so that when I am gone, it won't hurt them so much. Then there is the part of me that wants to grab them and hold on for dear life for as long as I have. Not one single one of us knows what tomorrow holds. Why do we spend so much time planning for it as if our lives depend upon it? Reach out and hug that person you've been wanting to. Make amends with that person you're at odds with. Life is short, no matter how long you live. That's the reality for us all.