left hemiplegia – Jesus is for the Wounded

And then I got up

Published on September 22, 2014September 22, 2014 by Jesus is for the Wounded4 Comments

It was the most horrific of reactions: writhing and such.

Even our pup could not make guttural sounds like me in my muck.

Earlier I sensed a reaction soon was a’comin’ . . .

And lo on the way home the tics started showin.’

So we showered once home, throwing our clothes in the wash

In case you think romance followed I’ll tell ya that was ‘nash —

Not the way it came down I say as I leaped into bed

Barely dried off and with a wet towel flung from my head.

An hour many would not survive followed me in there

I marveled as my lungs, heart, and mind would again persevere.

My beloved raised me in his arms to feed me some water

Then with more wimpers and smaller jolts he sensed the cause of the matter:

An older building, became soiled with everything one could imagine

‘Twas cosmetically upgraded with bright lights and smiles on everyone.

It was hard to tell during a visit as important as this

That there would be hell to pay later for pursuing a visit.

But that’s the way it goes when your brother finally gets the care he needs

In a 4-star nursing home upgraded from one he survived where they could subtract at least 3.

We chatted, we laughed and the pupster Elle provided all the charm

The rekindling of family love, fulfilled with treats from my oven still warm.

Then came the gift from my bro when Mike let me play O.T.

And minister to his contracted frame, providing hope to both him and me.

My skills were still there and his muscle memory someday could return

Lord willing we shall see His purpose and be grateful for this wild ‘journ.

So how can I complain that some new treatment of my own did not hold

When I just started 2 days ago then walked into a fiery test a bit too bold.

‘Cause long after the last jolt, the last choreathetoid seize

I was able to get up and make myself something to eat.

Now sitting here listening to my slumbering beloved who works in the ‘morn

I am grateful for so much although tonight so much is yet unknown.

“When will this crap end?” I ask myself and the darkened night air

“In just a little while,” responds the Lover of my soul Who holds my life in His care.

So even in this I will trust in the God Who has promised

That all things will be good. Get back to bed. Good golly it’s almost (morning)!

And then you just hope to move sideways

Published on May 9, 2014May 11, 2014 by Jesus is for the Wounded1 Comment

Here’s a brief update on my brother, Michael, and me with a prayer request:

At this moment Mike is moving from an acute, inpatient rehabilitation facility to one of the lowest-rated nursing homes in the city of Detroit. The social workers claim that of the 35 facilities they have contacted, St. Francis is the only one who would accept him. The reason? He is “Medicaid Pending” and does not have any other insurance. We are sad and concerned.

Today Mike’s rehabilitation stops until Medicaid is approved. Today Mike learns how the indigent of our society are left behind in facilities located across the street from an abandoned buildings in scary neighborhoods. Today Mike decides whether or not he is a FIGHTER. I only got to talk to him briefly before the transport vehicle came to wheel him out of his private room and begin the next leg of his recovery journey. He has made tremendous gains in cognition, swallowing, self care, transferring from one seat to another, and even walking. Mike has had close monitoring of his medical condition, medications, and test results. The plan to address a complex cyst on a kidney remains unclear as he moves away from his rehabilitation and medical specialists. None of them go to the new facility. It is unlikely that he will receive any rehabilitation therapies from this point forward until his Medicaid is approved. We are sad and concerned.

We are hoping that this transfer is a move sideways and not the beginning of a downward slide. At this point I do not believe that he knows that he will be receiving fewer services. He is concerned about the facility location and the comfort level of his fiancé visiting him in an unsafe neighborhood. Gratefully our cousin, Lisa, is an optometrist who sees patients there every 6 weeks. She has known the staff there for 10 years. We are hoping that this helps place Mike in a favorable light. Lisa has also offered to accompany Mike’s fiancé, also named Lisa, on her first visit to the new place. I am exceedingly grateful for this. I wish I could be there too. I cannot go at this time.

I had my own questionable “move” this past weekend. Difficulty breathing and bizarre, violent seizure attack episodes landed me in the emergency room. I received “treatment” and returned home; the last three days have been marginal yet better in some ways. I saw my family practice physician yesterday and was able to put together a few plans to tighten up my treatment plan. Unfortunately I had to escape outside for fresh air THREE TIMES due to the mold aerosols in his water-damaged office building! Did I mention that I was already wearing a charcoal mask? Geez. I was re-reading the Clinical Summary this morning from my visit and collapsed at the kitchen table into a pile of seizure-like tics. Perhaps the aerosols followed me home on the porous copy paper? Who knows. My gracious husband has seen me through it all, threw out the papers this morning and opened the bay windows to help me revive. Thank you my beloved Steve!

Sometimes it looks like things are going downhill when actually we have just stepped a little to the side. Many hidden blessings have come from my brother’s stroke: developing a closer relationship with his fiancé, rekindling a friendship with my amazing cousin Lisa, and seeing a few family members step forth to love on my brother are wonderful. And in my own situation I now have a biotoxin illness doctor who is willing to go to bat for me when headed to the ER on a Sunday in addition to an incredible husband who is my kinsman redeemer. Steve is willing to love me, care for me, and defend my special needs when needed on my journey to wellness. He believes me that this crap-ola-ski is NOT all in my head and is helping me overcome it too. In both my brother’s and my own situation, I am seeing new expressions of love that have not been there in our lives before. Cool beans. Thank you Jesus!

Gentle Reader, would you kindly pray this scripture with me? I pray that we will lean on the Lord, trust in the Lord, and have courage to move forward when-and-as the Lord leads these next few weeks. I need to rest in the tender care of my Jesus and not get ahead of the work He is accomplishing in today. After all, I do not want to miss the richness of His tender care, His presence in each breathing moment. Such a joy it is to know that He is here carrying Mike this afternoon in that transport van. Such a joy it is to know that He is here too with me and you carrying our thoughts and prayers to our Heavenly Father for His wise care according to His Divine plan for our lives. Perhaps sideways is a good place to be right now.

Want some bulletproof coffee? Let’s go out on the patio and sit for awhile. The sun is shining this afternoon and the narcissus, tulips, hyacinths, and buttercups are blooming!

The Sister Bear Speaks

Published on April 26, 2014April 26, 2014 by Jesus is for the Wounded5 Comments

While my brother’s fiancé is there at the hospital with him in the thick of things, his next of kin is a bit upset. I am too upset to make any rational decisions. The feelings run deep with me. It’s all I could do to be polite on the phone today to the social worker from the rehabilitation unit where Mike is hospitalized. At least Steve and I have the weekend to sort things out . . .

Very likely Mike will get booted out of the hospital next week and sent to be housed in a nursing home without additional rehabilitation services. His insurance is “Medicaid Pending” and his requiring of 24-hour physical care post discharge, a situation that cannot be met at home for valid reasons, is pushing the hospital to discharge him from their care. I don’t get it. In my 30+ year career in rehabilitation as an occupational therapist, the discharge criteria virtually always hinged on a lack of progress, not the particulars of discharge planning. It’s a new day: a new reality. If you can’t do what the government-driven healthcare system wants you to do then I guess they can wash their hands of you.

Perhaps he will go to a nursing home or perhaps by some miracle the Veterans Administration (VA) will accept him on such short notice. If the decision is the former, he will be fed 3 meals per day, kept clean and dry, and left to sit slumped in an overstretched wheelchair or geri chair in front of an out-of-tune entertainer from the long term care circuit with a pair of maracas shoved into his functional hand. The wailing of the demented residents will woo him to sleep at night as he tosses on his waterproof mattress to get comfortable around the bedsores that no one will find until it is too late for healing. Thickened Pepsi to drink? Not a chance. At least until his fiancé cleans up her make-up from crying long enough to ignore the swale of urine stench long enough to bring it to him. God bless her faithfulness visiting every day through this incredibly stressful ordeal!

Or perhaps it won’t be that bad. Maybe he will get into a VA rehabilitation facility with little red tape and get stronger. Regardless, the hope of at least a few weeks of physical, occupational, and speech therapy has vanished for the time-being. And Michael has no idea yet, what is about to happen to him next week. I left a message for his saint of a fiancé and she has not gotten back to me yet. Maybe she is in as big of SHOCK as I am. Maybe she is exhausted and horrified from touring nursing homes closer to where they lived in the “thumb” area of Michigan. I don’t blame her for taking a little time for herself to sort things out. My heart goes out to Lisa. She has been through so much these past two weeks as her life has changed forever.

As for me, 200 miles to the south and struggling with four hours of seizure attacks multiple times per day, I am overwhelmed with the stress of it all. Just seeing the missing flooring in our bathroom from yet another mold remediation project is enough to stub my toe even when the light is on. Somehow I completed a few errands outside the home this afternoon and made a simple dinner. I talked to a few family members who offered mixed consolation while I was stepping on the elliptical for 20 minutes, phone in hand. Geez! I haven’t used that thing in a few weeks! I must be stressed out. Thank goodness the nightly seizure attack episodes haven’t fully ramped up yet tonight: I needed to talk to you, Gentle Reader! I started to type and there you were. Thanks so much for being here. I can barely speak I am so very upset.

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Life goes on despite the drama of the moment. If Steve and I don’t impulsively drive 3 hours north to go to the hospital tomorrow and I’m stable enough, we will attend the 50th wedding anniversary open house of some friends. It will be good to enjoy some Christian fellowship. Then maybe my beloved Steve will start to work on the bathroom floor tile project and I’ll put together the jewelry orders that have been sitting at my work table this past week. Lord willing I’ll continue with the Spring clean-up of our gardens and Steve will mow the grass for the first time this year. Looks like the narcissus will be blooming within a day or two with their yellow-throated happy faces reaching up to soak up the sun. The sunshine will feel good on my broken frame as well and I will enjoy the freshness of the air this time of year. There’s no better hue of green than that of the tender leaves emerging from their Winter slumber: truly lime, truly sublime too. Some call it “horticulture therapy.” Gee, maybe I should go right now poke my finger in the dirt of the violets waiting to fill the self-watering planters I thought I might plant tomorrow . . . I need a fix of something and a shot of tequila is out of the question these days . . .

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Please pray for us. This sister bear is hurting more for her brother than anything right now. My beloved Steve has been so loving despite the challenges of my illness, demands of his work, and his other responsibilities. Lisa has got to be struggling as well, balancing work, the care of her teenage son (Alex), and assuming increasing responsibility for Michael’s affairs. She and Michael have known each other almost 7 years. Her 13 year old son has a great relationship with Michael too. Oh Lord, hold us all closely this night. Help us. Show us Your love, mercy, and grace. Guide us with wisdom. If it is Your will, heal my brother from the effects of this devastating stroke. Comfort him as he realizes all that has happened to him and show him hope, be real for him on his bed of sickness. He has reached out to you in his time of need. I am grateful for this and grateful that you are here with us. And thank you for the encouragement we find in Your Word:

¹⁶Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. ¹⁷For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. ¹⁸So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. (2 Corinthians 4)

In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.

Cave Dweller That I Am

Published on April 17, 2014April 17, 2014 by Jesus is for the Wounded3 Comments

Yesterday I found out that my cousin, Lisa, has a tendency to keep the blinds in her house closed when times get tough. Yeah, that’s me too. Until we reunited over my brother’s illness, I did not know that she too battles fibromyalgia and a host of “female,” medical issues. She is at the beginning of her search for treatment options. We talked quite a bit about these and other family matters while sitting in my brother’s private room on the Telemetry floor at the Detroit hospital. And so it goes at weddings, funerals and the markers of life in between: catching up on relationships we are too busy to nourish when busy with the tasks of life . . .

Steve and I got home around midnight after our whirlwind trip to see Mike in the hospital yesterday. (Steve had to work today and I’m allergic to hotel rooms anyways!) I am both depleted and grateful for so much today. Steve drove us the 6-hours round trip so we could see Lisa, Mike, and his fiancé (Lisa) while I endured seizure attack episodes in the car. Our departure was a few hours late due to the same. Divine timing superseded it all as we were able to see a physician familiar with Mike’s care during her evening rounds and before we had to leave. As of today he has been cleared of any infectious disease cause to the right CVA; he continues nothing-by-mouth yet is getting his “Pepsi” substitute via IV glucose. Pepsi is all he kept asking for . . . in addition to asking his fiancé to wish me a “happy birthday.” Yes, I got to see my brother for the first time in years yesterday and on my birthday. Strange but true.

Today I am back in cave-dweller mode. The grief reaction of seeing him so debilitated is taking its toll so I am just lying low for now. I tried out a new ceramic frying pan to make my Candida diet/mold-free/low oxalate blueberry pancakes and kept the beast of a skillet on the stove long enough to make lunch this afternoon too. Perhaps I will shower before my husband comes home this evening and perhaps not. The extra (stress?) seizure attacks and post-travel fatigue probably contributed to me missing the very chiropractic treatment I needed to relieve my sore back. Oh well. The Lord has given me the time and space I need to clear my head from the events of this week and that is good. Catching up with other relatives today while sharing the news about my brother is good too.

My relationship to one cave dweller in particular is making a difference right now. So poetic that all of this is happening in my life during the week that the world celebrates Easter. Our Lord, Jesus Christ lain in state in a cave after dying a tortuous death on a cross for the sins of me and you. We can point to Easter Sunday with hope that the suffering of our lives (the consequence of living in a fallen, sin-laden world) will be redeemed when He comes again in glory. He who has victory over death both knows the cries of our hearts and holds them in the palm of His hand that reaches out to us in grace, in mercy, in love. He is with me here now and goes before me no matter what the next moment may bring for me or Mike. I am strong in this belief despite the weakness of my broken frame. Nothing can take this away for those in Christ. Nothing!

So if you are feeling weak, vulnerable, fearful, doubtful, or sad this day: take heart. The Lord is on the throne of grace and weeps for our suffering. He will come again in glory and make all things new someday. In the meantime I hope that you will reach out to Him and let me know how it goes. We all can be brought into the light of His amazing grace to dwell in His presence if we but believe.

Where does your heart dwell Gentle Reader?

Psalm 73

²³Yet I am always with you;
    you hold me by my right hand.
²⁴You guide me with your counsel,
    and afterward you will take me into glory.
²⁵Whom have I in heaven but you?
    And earth has nothing I desire besides you.
²⁶My flesh and my heart may fail,
    but God is the strength of my heart
    and my portion forever.

²⁷Those who are far from you will perish;
    you destroy all who are unfaithful to you.
²⁸But as for me, it is good to be near God.
    I have made the Sovereign Lord my refuge;
    I will tell of all your deeds.