The Medicine Cabinet

Pray tell how much do you think I can hold

In my shelves bursting forth from the orders?

“Try this, take that, or Google the one I heard about”

Becomes license for judgement once thought to be clinical.

Not learned in school but that of “hard knocks”

The ideas flow too simply during paid consultations

Such is the life of a lab rat in the cauldron of illness

Where test results get mixed with expensive remedies.

So I look up interactions online thanks to drugs.com

Although many will be borne out of a bad trip on a Tuesday

When I try your best guess out of desperation, my last dime

And occasionally find relief or find hope a fraction of the time.

“I’ll take it,” I say under my breath as a new protocol prints out

My medicine chest overfloweth, my fingers sore from researching

Til someday the Lord crafts a breakthrough I shall not give up:

For the Great Physician love me more than this infirmity for sure.

Just look up, look out Gentle Reader if you suffer along too

Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous.

Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged,

for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.

Proverbs,4:22, medicine cabinet, God's word, Bible, the word medicine, hope, healing, Great Physician

Coming out of the fog

I just might be coming out of the fog

As I hit the 5 year mark of shroudedness

When some bugs in greenish water back then

Everyday put me under severe, daily duress.

I could sell you a book of

Five hundred blogs and two links

With tales of woe then and now that’ve

Filled webpages as I tried to keep on my “think.”

This forum here, now with you this Autumn night

Kept me sane so the cells in my brain did not go to mush;

While firing wacky-backwards without ceasing at times

For waaaaaay toooo long without hope of a rest with a cush.

Looking back, looking forward

And thinking it over some more,

I see da light coming through darkness:

The kind that stays and covers all.

Tis healing that’s on the brink to stay

If I but finish the course with everything

It takes what it takes and it ain’t over they say

And they’re right, “until the fat lady sings!”

Now I ain’t too fat or that big into musical things

There’s more dirt under my fingernails than bylines

Bits o’ gardening, sewing, medical cooking fills the

Hours not counting Heparin and saline syringes.

No matter anyways, anyhoo, anyhow

It’s just the way it went, the road less travelled by

I will be stronger for it in the end they say (and they know)

In due time, Gentle Reader, with the Lord we’ll one day know why.

JJ

Julie Horney, Lyme disease, get well, recovery, healing, gratitude, end of the road, end of the journey, smiling, woman, park, Rogers-Lakewood
Resting with mask in hand by a scummy lake here in Indiana!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vampire Diaries 2

hebrews, Hebrews 13:5, abandonment, promises of God, alone, loneliness, scripture, depression, sorrow, loss, illness, sickness, hope

Tears going up and down a lot this day

On the roller coaster of emotion I find myself on:

Help cometh x2 but test results won’t satisfy

As here I sit with my neck aching all through my brain.

I tried.  I really tried to figure it out and failed.

The symptoms that remain still taunt my peace

Leaving scars, leaving woes, leaving loss behind the hope

And yet my breath prevails so in and out I will also go today

To match the pull of the vampire’s teeth left in my chest wall.

The infusions continue instead of a long-desired break

The bank will love us less, the medical folk perhaps more

Whilst someone’s Mercedes payment will be made

And my saga continues on Big Box Store hamburger.

Hope always seems just one more day out there somewheres

Leaving me here beat up from this morning’s episode of torment

A snuggle with my husband got transformed into caregiving

And more hours were lost in the aftermath once again.

At least my dog seems to understand as she nudges her nose at the leash.  “Can’t we go now?” her soft brown eyes contend.

Relief might come in the mail soon

Or maybe not; it’s hard to tell

So I’ll keep calling on my Jesus for now

His calling card never leaves and never fails any of us anyways. JJ

 

 

The full moon cometh

It ain’t over yet . . . but we are not giving up either.

The Dad that never left

Perhaps it is more of a blessing than anything else that I have more time for reflection these days.  After the double-loads of laundry, medical management, treatment-and-recovery, self care, and various household duties are completed, there are generally more hours than in my past to think about the stuff of life.  On Father’s Day yesterday, I started to notice some new parallels between my past and present.  It went something like this.

I was posting a picture of my Dad and me on Facebook when I realized how his generosity when he stepped back into my life has become an important part of my current recovery from serious illness.  His gift about 6 years ago allowed me to create a garden oasis in our backyard.  Here are two of my favorite areas:

Creating the flagstone patio area required graph paper, a ruler, tape measure, and endless gazing from all angles to make the kidney-bean shaped layout meet the vision the Lord had given me.  In the next 2 years the process continued with a pair of 8-foot custom steel trellises then a “secret garden” area (basically a re-purposed dog pen!).  The planting beds came later as I decided that we needed more privacy from our neighbors behind us and that I wanted to have a garden-view beyond each room of the house.  The bed on the right in the 2nd picture is largely of native plants and a key component in earning a Sustainable Garden designation from our local cooperative extension office.  The aqua custom shade sail was an incredible find from the “sale” page of a company by the same name.  Now that the design is complete the plants have matured and my heart is home.

Dontcha know that my mom was a gardener?  She would hunt down the groundskeeper at the local zoo if needed to obtain a plant start of a specimen she just needed to have in her yard.  Composting, vegetables, a mounded hill, hanging baskets around the hot tub spa . . . she had all the elements that made her heart happy out there in her suburban back

Mom in Spa

yard.  Her creation came together because of the generosity of her parents too.  Some may call it an inheritance.  I call it the chance to create something beautiful from the sorrow of a lost family member.  And I think it’s o.k. to spend some of it to make the process of going on without him or her a little nicer.  Do something that makes your heart happy!

Flash forward 4 years from when the “bones” of our own garden were installed and I am exceedingly grateful for what the Lord has allowed me to design, to create.  Lying sickly on that chaise lounge last summer when it looked like there would be little hope for recovery, brought solace of sorts.  Lying sickly on that same chair this summer after taking treatments that are slowly giving me my life back is bringing hope and the flow of some new creative juices.  My husband, Steve, just smiles a bit when I talk like this.  He knows that could mean a little more trimming around a new garden bed or hauling of something heavy to make it happen.  Oh how he loves me so!  Well I’ll let ya all know how it turns out for sure!

Steve brought me to see this home on our fourth date.  He wanted to know, “if things worked out between us could you see yourself living here?”  Talk about pressure!  I was visiting him in Indiana for the first time from the Chicago suburbs and certainly was not about to make a decision on the spot.  At least out loud, that is!  But I knew that the bush in the front-and-center of the bay window was a Miss Kim Lilac and just like the one I had lost with the townhome when my former spouse left me.  I also knew that the bush next to it was a burning bush that gets a magnificent, fiery shade of red in the Fall and just like the one I . . . well you can see where this is going.  It’s like when I viewed Steve’s profile on Yahoo Personals and saw a picture of him with a radio-controlled airplane that reminded me of the flying competitions in which my dad and brothers flew line-control planes when we were kids.  Of course I knew that the house was a great idea; I just wasn’t going to tell Steve anything just yet.  The home he purchased before we were married became a blank slate for me in remaking so many years that the locusts had eaten . . . . (Joel 2:25)

So I hope you can see how a simple thingy like some flower and vegetable gardens can be so meaningful to someone like me.  The draftsman in my Dad has become the designer in me.  His surprise generosity allowed me to create a living oasis that was an interest I shared with my mom when I became an adult.  Finding a loving place to realize these gifts would come in a way like never before when I found my intended beloved in the arms of my Stevers.  Solace, restoration, and hope were all set in motion regardless of my life’s circumstances according the plans of my Heavenly Dad, my Heavenly Husband; He knew all along the seeds He had planted in my heart long before I could ever dig in the dirt of life myself.  And just as life on this green earth began in the Garden of Eden, so do our own lives thrive in the planted spaces in which we are tilled and turned, watered, pruned, and nurtured until beauty bursts forth in scented color, in hope beyond that which we can see.

How can I be sad about the losses in my life when my Heavenly Dad has always been there with me?  From my garden bench I bid you a “Happy Father’s Day,” Gentle Reader.  I pray that you, too, will live in the fullness of life that grows more grand with each passing day:  a garden oasis in your soul where the One Who knows us so well can make everything meaningful, anything beautiful in the noon day sun or under the shade tree too.  JJ

Dad & me at his trailer