Christian – Page 33 – Jesus is for the Wounded

The Price of Admission

Published on January 16, 2016January 16, 2016 by Jesus is for the WoundedLeave a comment

Garfield2016-01-15

Garfield tells it like it is and that is the way I like life to be as well . . . No pretense here, ever! He must be chemically sensitive too? I digress . . .

To get well from a serious illness, one consistently pursues recovery as if he or she is on a journey, not sprinting as if in a race. My journey of late has included a trial of molecular hydrogen, nebulizing sea water to ease a chronic sinus infection, and experimenting with a Glutamate-Aspartate Restricted Diet (GARD). Yeah it’s never just one thingy with me!

Some additional research and a consultation with my Doc suggested a link between the GARD, sinusitis, and latent Lyme disease that might be addressed with a course of antibiotic treatment. Yes, IV or IM Rocephin may address all three. Rat studies have shown that Rocephin can lower glutamate levels thus helping to raise seizure threshold. Since I am a card-carrying lab rat anyways it seemed logical to go for a trial of antibiotics for a week then re-evaluate my tolerance for it during my next Doc appointment in 7 days. Very likely the treatment will continue for several weeks. Today was treatment day #1.

I began this process pressing forth to complete a lab test beforehand so as not to skew the results with the upcoming antibiotic. The preparation required a restricted diet of only 2 foods for 24 hours, fasting, and some stressful sampling procedures all ending just one hour before the first IV treatment at the hospital. The Lord sustained me as I assembled the kit and wolfed down a supremo salad that I had prepared the night before. I left our home shortly after the FedEx truck picked up the completed test kit while giving our dog something to bark, bark, bark about. The wings of my Savior, Jesus Christ carried me to the hospital on just 3 1/2 hours of sleep: less nervous and ready to blast the heck out of whatever might be keeping me sick. Let’s do this!

Not so fast though! Just before heading into the Outpatient Clinic I had a violent expulsion of stool! Whaaaaat? Good golly! Looks like the Lactulose test prep was taking effect all at once! Now what should I do? I was soiled through all of the layers of clothing I had worn to keep warm. Fortunately this all happened in a hospital where they have linens and hospital scrubs available. Alright so I cleaned up, put on the call light, confided my plight to one of the nurses, changed my fashion motif a bit, and returned to my chaise lounger a little wet, a little shook up from everything. let’s do this?

The biggest hurdle for me in receiving the 50+ IV treatments and 50+ lab draws I’ve had these past 4 years has always been the needle stick procedure. Virtually every time a needle either goes in or out it triggers massive convulsive episodes. Fortunately Jennifer, the RN, has more tricks for poking rolling, spindly veins than anyone I have ever seen for care. The first stick failed resulting in the usual shakes and shouts. So we just waited until my world calmed down and I got a few more moments of the best distraction ever under my belt: HGTV on the little swing-away monitor at my station! Watching Island Hunters and the like has saved me from tears many times for sure. (Such a treat! We don’t have cable service at home.)

Gratefully the second stick was successful. Gratefully there were no ill effects during the infusion just fatigue. Gratefully I was able to run an errand to the meat market secretly in wet jeans underneath my scrubs before returning home. Gratefully the nap came easily after showering and without seizure attacks. The hell returned later in the evening but overall I got away with at least one fewer episode today. God is good. He carries me through so much!

I ask the Lord often why things always have to be so difficult for me? I really don’t get any answers other than to know that He sees my suffering and promises to love me through it all. That love is tangible in the graciousness of my beloved husband, Steve, who listens to my stories and sees me through the roughness that characterizes some part of every day. Perhaps someday I will get to see why the “price of admission” for me to get through my life has been so devastatingly high. This stuff ain’t for wimps ya know! In the meantime I will carefully wrap the IV in my arm before showering, clean myself up, run more loads of laundry, and shed some tears along the way. I am not alone and know what to do. I have been through IV treatments before and so have many of my fellow sojourners. We can do this!

At least now there is fresh bacon in the house. And that Gentle Reader is a mighty good thingy! I am sure Garfield would agree! JJ

Romans 8:28, encouragement, encouraging scripture, all things work together for good, hope, hang in there

Torture, water-boarding and more: Part 3

Published on January 2, 2016January 3, 2016 by Jesus is for the WoundedLeave a comment

[Eight hours have passed since I wrote Part 2 that chronicled the second phase of my recent hearing and vestibular testing at our local Balance Center. Four hours of the eight were lost to persistent deep-brain convulsive episodes then passing out in exhaustion and tears for about 2 hours. These episodes are different from those usually associated with epilepsy; I do not have epilepsy as I am awake, aware of my surroundings, sometimes able to communicate, and can often pinpoint the trigger of the living hell that follows. (See this link for more information.) The assessment was completed 1 1/2 days ago but its negative impact has lingered. Here is my conclusion to this story with hopes of a little cathartic experience to follow as I use blogging to let go of the trauma that went before me.]

In Part 1 of this series I gave a brief history of the four years of illness that has precipitated the referral for testing at The Balance Center. In Part 2, I shared the severe struggle I encountered with the first two parts of the second phase of test procedures rendering me useless on a treatment table with my own carbon mask covering my face, wretchedly seizing without end. Eventually and by the grace of God the episodes finally stopped. I learned that the 3rd phase of the testing would conclude in this third treatment room where I was lying and would normally take about 30 minutes to complete. Alright, so again I rallied, sat up, got some new goggles calibrated, and got ready for battle.

The technician, “M,” had me lie back down on the treatment table for what appeared to be a simple process of keeping my eyes open in the darkened mask while she would be squirting some warm water into my ears, one at a time. She said that the water would only be a couple of degrees warmer than my own body temperature but might feel much hotter than that. She wrapped the left side of my head in A LOT of paper towels. Then suddenly without any additional warning a massive blast of really hot water banged against my tender ear drum! WTF? (Seriously, I generally don’t swear so imagine something nasty like moldy f-ruitcake at this juncture!) Then within seconds and before I could catch my breath CAME A SECOND BLAST of equally hot water! Within 10 seconds I was massively dizzy, yes, the highest number on her 4-point scale, thank you very much! How is this even possible? What the heck could they possibly be testing through such a tortuous, water-boarding procedure? I winced in more head and neck pain as the convulsive episodes immediately returned with a vengeance. “Why Lord!? Why all this suffering?” my heart cried.

I struggled as she kept telling me to keep my eyes open for two full minutes or we would have to repeat the sequence. Oh dear not that! All I wanted to do was close my eyes to retreat into the smallest cocoon in my mind and die. (Someone please kill me now.) Keeping my eyes open in a darkened room and blackened mask under these circumstances was more difficult that I can describe to you. I was wearing my carbon mask PLUS the large black mask pictured in Part 2, much like Darth Vader in The Force Awakens! Of course in the thick of the now-violent head banging it would be my only solace to close my eyes and hang on for a ride worse than a Mexican taxi driver racing along a dirt goat path along the side of a cliff. (I know. I have endured that too.) I am not sure that I even breathed a peep for the remaining seconds. “Please Lord. Make it stop!” I pleaded in earnest.

“M” graciously gave me all the time that I needed to start to calm down enough to try again. Perhaps, she said, she could allow me to skip the cold water-boarding torture test if I could only repeat everything on the right side too? Well that almost seemed like some good news at last! And there would only be one more test after this one. “One more? O.k.,” I thought to myself. “I am not coming back to this holocaust-for-a-day ever again so I had better decide right now how much of this I can really take.” And in the life of a believer in Jesus Christ the answer is faithfully: all of it. “Somehow, my Lord has seen me through so much hell in my life already,” I reasoned. “Please Lord, help me finish so I can go home.”

The last 2 blasts of hot water were slightly less traumatic in my right ear since I now knew what to expect. (Imagine that: you are about to get burned in one of your most sensitive parts knowing that it will spike dizziness worse than any world-famous roller coaster ride. You know that it is coming as the train click, click, clicks up the steep hill of the Gatekeeper at Cedar Point or some such nonsense. Good times indeed.) In that back room of The Balance Center I braced for impact. Smash! When the two minutes thereafter were done I wept from deep within my soul once again. There no longer was anywhere safe for me, without sickness or pain, anywhere on the earth. I am not being mellow dramatic. I was a machetied puppy in my spirit and broken in my weary frame. Everything hurt grievously.

In due time I was able to sit up, transfer to a chair, and finish the final light bar test. I have no idea how I did this. Suddenly the technician’s tempo increased and she revealed that she wanted to take me to the lobby so that she could clean the room! I knew that I had taken longer than most patients in completing the battery of tests. And that’s when her sweetness kind of stopped. She re-appeared with a wheelchair as I was still deciding if I was alive or dead? Could I move my limbs to get up or had I digressed into the neurological collapse that often follows severe convulsive episodes? More shaking, more head-banging followed this time sitting up and it had not stopped yet when “M” returned. (Those attacks are the worst kind, by the way. No protection for my neck when flailing up in space.) If my central nervous system was in collapse-mode then I would require maximum assistance to move. Moments passed. I breathed as best as I could. I really needed to walk out of there under my own power . . .

And so I did. I sat in the lobby for at least 30 minutes then another 20 minutes in my truck before even thinking about driving home. I could barely eat a few bites of the makeshift lunch I had brought with me. The words “shell-shocked” apply here. By the grace of God I rallied again and was able to drive home. Within a few minutes of arriving safely I came unglued, raced to our bedroom screaming and crying, overcome with grief, unable to speak to my beloved husband in complete sentences about all that I had endured that day. My mind unraveled. Somehow I completed the mold-avoidance procedures we follow when returning from any public place. Hot tears streamed down my face, mixed with the cleansing water from the shower head washing away the horror, revealing the sinus and neck headaches, unmasking the fact that no where in my body was free of pain. The bed received me at once with more thrashing/hell that was required to unwind all the damage that had been done. Eventually I passed out for about four hours . . .

********************

Somewhere in this journey that the Lord has ordained for my life will be a glorious story of redemptive grace. A miracle perhaps. Healing? Wisdom gleaned from the years the locusts have eaten, so to speak. Blessings? Those are promises that we all can count on when we walk with the Lord our God through His Son, Jesus Christ (Romans 8:28). We will know that our trials will not be wasted. Something good will come from them whether in this life or the next. When I am more recovered from The Balance Center ordeal I will speak about this with more confidence that I can today. What I want you to know is that I am not giving up. My heart raced and I was unable to breathe during one of the most violent episodes that transpired during the test procedures but I did not die. That being said, it is again crystal clear there must be more for me in the future. I am still here so why not get ready to really live instead? I can deal with that one for sure.

And so can you, Gentle Reader. But if you are “dead” in your sins then that is a different matter. Why not choose life in a personal relationship with Jesus Christ who will one day replace all of this suffering with fulfillment of His promises? Please contact me if you want to discuss this further. Please allow my suffering to bring you renewal, bring you cleansing once and for all. We simply do not have any more time to waste!

Godspeed. JJ

A different kind of Christmas

Published on December 27, 2015December 27, 2015 by Jesus is for the Wounded2 Comments

Perhaps it is a sentiment of many Dayspring and Hallmark greeting cards to define Christmas as “the most wonderful day of the year.” For a believer in Jesus Christ, the day is one of the most meaningful: celebrating the birth of our Lord and Savior. But perhaps the most significant holiday is actually celebrated on Easter Sunday as we recall the sacrifice that Christ made in dying on a cross for our sins such that we may have everlasting life. No sentiments are implied or required: the truth is that He came to save, the truth is that He is Lord of all!

Isaiah 9:6-7New King James Version (NKJV)

⁶For unto us a Child is born,
Unto us a Son is given;
And the government will be upon His shoulder.
And His name will be called
Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
⁷Of the increase of His government and peace
There will be no end,
Upon the throne of David and over His kingdom,
To order it and establish it with judgment and justice
From that time forward, even forever.
The zeal of the Lord of hosts will perform this.

I can almost hear the victorious singing of Handel’s Messiah in the background as I read these words. Such is the confidence that we have, the joy we know as believers in Jesus Christ!

Many days when my life is a “nothing burger,” these words are just about all that I have for comfort. My Christmas and Easter in 2015 were not filled with either the people or activities of a typical Christian holiday. There were no church services dressed in better finery, homemade treats enjoyed in the basement afterwards with the dearest of friends, or family dinners filled with laughter and much feasting. The décor around here was the same as it is every day. I could go on with all that was cut due to the ravages of severe illness but I won’t. Perhaps you get the idea Gentle Reader?

I spent each of these holidays staring into nothingness for much of it yet also with nothing to distract me from seeking the face of my Lord. My prayerful meditation was uninterrupted and peaceful. Warm, loving glances came from my beloved Steve whose presence is one of the greatest gifts I could ever ask for in my life. Even our furry friend Elle is always a special delight with the gentlest of brown eyes, the softest of fur coats. I did get somewhat of a break during the middle of the day on Christmas in which we connected with family via Skype and the phone, MacGyvered a tasty meal of sorts, and opened some sweet gifts for our eighth Christmas together as husband-and-wife. Yeah God for special moments like these!

In two days we will continue and conclude as many of these traditions as we can in a gathering with my husbands adult children and their spouses. They graciously will attend to the mold/fragrance-avoidance practices needed for me to host them in our home. Since it may be my only time to see them when they are in town from their respective States and countries, I do pray that I may be able to participate in every moment available. They are wonderful young adults and I do love them so! I have simplified our menu and Steve has begun the preparations. We have spent extra time finding special gifts that would be meaningful; one of them may even serve temporarily as a different kind of “Christmas tree!” We’ll see. I still have to pull that one together! Eeeek!

So if you too have changed things up a bit for this Christmas season, know that you are not alone. I understand completely. It’s o.k.! This holiday along with Easter in the Spring have nothing to do with Santa and the white bunny carrying chocolate eggs. These special days have everything to do with a decision we each make in our hearts about Who we will serve as Lord over our lives. Where have you placed your trust dear friends? With a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, we will have a celebration that will never be limited to a date on the calendar.

Nothing beats a Charlie Brown Christmas message:

And with that decision made to follow Christ, every day will be a different kind of adventure that transcends the moment into all of eternity. Yeah, I’m on board for that one. Will you be along too? JJ

It’s just not my turn that’s all

Published on December 21, 2015December 21, 2015 by Jesus is for the WoundedLeave a comment

Another day slipped into history as I pondered the gratitude I felt for a recent task accomplished. It’s no matter that the wrapping of Christmas presents got done from about 2 to 6 in the morning on Saturday. That’s just how I roll these days . . .

Social media is one of the ways that I employ to counter the tremendous isolation I experience while overcoming a serious illness. I used to be shy about it. Many folks write about their need for a sabbatical occasionally when Facebook and the like become too big of a time eraser. My life is structured differently I guess . . .

My brother, Michael, often talked about the support he felt from fellow poker players online. Really? How can you experience anything valuable from an anonymous side chat in a gambling venue of penny poker through the internet? Flash forward ten years. Now I get it. Mike was home all of the time caring for our mother who was struggling with lung cancer, chemotherapy, and alcoholism. The things that he endured were very difficult. He would say that he never knew what he would find when he returned home from running out to the store or anywhere at all, making it difficult to get things done. Those little touch points with his fellow poker players gave him the assurance he needed to do what he had to do the rest of the day . . .

Should life return to “normal” one day for me then my time spent here with you will naturally diminish. I’ll be sleeping in the wee hours of the morning instead of wide awake in the recovery phase of a hellish nightmare earlier that evening. I have already grieved about it, the loss I mean. So much time has passed with so little getting done in my own life. Perhaps the tasks that have been completed are not measured on a calendar or my “To Do List?” For those in Christ Jesus, we know that to be true.

Another example is how I finished reviewing a copy of a canoe and kayak paddling magazine last night for which my husband is the Editor. I guess I can now add “Assistant Editor” to my resume for my contributions to the first four issues. Cool beans. I could list a bunch of crafty Christmas things that I would rather be doing yet that was not my calling for those hours. Many will be blessed by this sacrifice including me.

Ever feel this way when sidetracked from your dreams, Gentle Reader? In ways big and small we may struggle to discipline ourselves to do the tasks we must do when our hearts are in another room or time zone. Know what I mean?

The bottom line for me on this subject tonight is that the sooner I rest in the promises of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, the sooner I will realize that I am perfectly where I need to be. He will provide everything I need from the breath that is not coming easily to the assembly of a Christmas gift still in boxes strewn here and there. I know from another tumultuous time in my life that the Lord does answer our prayers in due time. The waiting, the setbacks, the anticipation make the rewards sweeter. How can I expect to make it to the finish line with style and grace if I give up on the last leg of the race? I will not!

So don’t you give up on me either, k? And please hang tough if you are going through challenging times as well. If you need to cry out for help then please do so NOW. Our God promises in His Word that:

³The Lord will strengthen him on his bed of illness;
You will sustain him on his sickbed.

Psalm 41:3 New King James Version (NKJV)

He will see us through to our last breath if we but call upon His name. My Heavenly Father has done so for me a thousand times. He will do so for you too. Tonight I am praying for us both. JJ

Look into my eyes

Published on December 18, 2015December 18, 2015 by Jesus is for the Wounded1 Comment

In my very early contacts with who would become my Intended Beloved, I realized that I had not seen any close-up pictures of him. We had met online after Steve had found me in the database of the dating website Yahoo Personals. He certainly spoke and wrote like a God-fearing man yet I could not yet see it in his eyes! “Could you send me a picture that includes a look into your eyes closer-up?” I asked. Here is one that he sent me.

steve-self 005-small

I was tickled that he took the time (long before the convenience of smart phones, by the way) to set up his tripod, take and upload the photos, then send them to me via email! Wow. He must have liked my profile photo a bit more than I thought already?

6A1H2701

Flash forward less than a year and the look we have as we gaze at each other at our wedding probably tells its own story . . .

wed-10

How could I possibly know that this gaze would only deepen, soften, and grow to a bond impervious to the tempestuous trials that came our way four years later? Only the Lord knew what was ahead of us. Only the Lord and the workings of the Holy Spirit could move this love to such a tender place built to last.

Funny thing is that I do not have a recent picture to show you what I mean. We just haven’t been able to go out as much to make memories worthy of recording. A photo taken on our recent anniversary may show a bit of weariness for me. Yet if you look closely, that’s a mighty strong arm holding me closely to his side. The joy on Steve’s face is unmistakable. That’s an arm of protection, of leadership, of devotion like no other wrapped tightly around me on a cool wintry night.

Crop of 8th Anniversary

I am so very grateful to see the eyes of Christ in my precious Steve. Like my Lord Jesus, Steve is even more wonderful than the day I met him. His love has transformed my heart for sure.

Ever look into the eyes of someone like that, Gentle Reader? Was it long ago? Oh I hope that if it has not yet happened then it will someday soon! When it does I hope that you will tell the world about it. Maybe with a song like this one, in celebration of the eyes of love tonight: