A Tale of 2 Gregs

One made the bag, the other got it in me

The latter carried me for a time, the former will see me from beginning to end.

Both attend to excruciating detail

Their work as professional as it can be:  an example for all who deal in potions for the cure.

The one is seeking her Lord

Whilst the other follows Christ with family, with livelihood reflective of the same over time.

I never knew how this journey would go

And the people, places, and things that would come near for having been allowed this path.

But I must say parts have been worth it

Having known you two has taught me much about life, about overcoming, about getting up each and every day.

So today when your worlds collided over me

I felt humbled at your care, expertise, and willingness to make a difference in my recovery.

Thank you for being on my team

These infusions of life-giving waters will make a difference one day for sure.

Until then carry on dear providers

Your work goes beyond sharing 4 letters of your names to hope beyond this day for sure.

 

You rock!  JJ

Slow But Sure

What will it feel like to be almost normal again?

Will the days fill with meaning, the nights rest with pleasure?

Alas I know not what tomorrow will bring —

So it’s it will be in the smaller moments that I will define who I am, who I will be.

At least as long as it is up to me . . . and little is of course . . .

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

An important decision came to me today that surprised me.  Oh there were the impossible ones that came in the hours beforehand which could be the subject of a tragic drama-blog here (ie. how to handle the seizure attacks overnight, sleep deprivation, heavy burdens, pain) but all that changed when I was catapulted awake at 8:17 a.m.  Could I make it to that appointment after all to the eye doctor?  They didn’t really cancel my appointment from that frantic message I left at 4:57 in the morning did they?  Well I was about to find out!

I pulled on some clothes; rushed back and forth throughout our humble abode; threw together the records, food, and drink I had loosely assembled the night before; and was practically out the door before my hubby emerged from shaving in the bathroom!  I’ll call the office on the way, I thought to myself.  And lucky for me my appointment time was still open for 8:45 a.m.  Holy cow.

Lord only knows how I function on days like these.  The headache pressed sharply into my skull with the plethora of medical testing and related tasks that fill my very full (medical) “work days” lately.  (That is a story for another time!)  Diarrhea delayed the first few steps of my eye exam as the technicians escorted me to rooms with various equipment, administered those dilating drops, etc.  So now my vision had become as blurry as my mental status.  Neat huh?  Sish.  Soon it was time to make some decisions about contact lenses and the potential replacement of eyeglasses.  Three years had passed since my last exam.  Clearly vision care has not been my priority of late!

I don’t even know her name yet her face will be memorable for many weeks to come.  The Optician in the big room with all those designer frames was an older lady with exquisite taste, professional temperament, mastery of her craft.  She quickly knew that I would benefit from some coaching in my selections and did so with style and grace.  I liked her eyeglasses, Silhouettes she called them, and decided it could be a new style that would work for me.  But was I ready for it?  Suddenly I realized that I was deciding about more than a functional facial dressing . . . no, I was crafting what presentation did I really want to make with my eyes, my facial expression to the world these days?

Makeup doesn’t work for me most of the time.  I do keep my hair colored and trimmed fairly regularly, styled about half of the time.  My clothing is rather casual favoring comfort not the fashion trends of the last decade.  Rarely do I adorn jewelry even though I had my own business making and selling colorful macramé jewelry for almost 3 years. My face has aged considerably.  The summer tan has faded.  I no longer wear contact lenses which used to give others direct visual access to my eyes, my soul.  My current eyeglasses with red and black frames are my only adornment, providing a little bit of covering behind which I can hide.

Soon I excused myself to the bathroom yet another time for a little moment of reflection.  Would I choose a new style behind which to mask my true self a little longer?  Yes it really does feel like that.  Would it be frames where the focus is on the shiny rhinestones or metallic finishes instead of the tender woman peering out from behind them?  Only after a few tears later did my choice become clear.  I selected the ones like those my teacher was wearing today.  Kind of like I did with Mrs. Heitkamp back in the 5th grade.  (Oh how I loved her so!)

Far be it from me to miss a moment where I can slowly but surely find a little extra meaning in what is happening and move forward too.  I really do want to be well some day and by golly I hope that my attention to the little things will help me to get ready for that day.  It’s just a pair of eyeglasses right?  Maybe so.  Behind them this time will be a little more of me and a little less of something else blocking the view of the woman inside coming back into view.

1 Peter 3:3-4 New International Version (NIV)

Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.

If you are in a battle right now too, Gentle Reader, please do not lose hope.  Please don’t hide.  Our Lord Jesus Christ yearns for fellowship with each of us as He dresses the heart, infuses the spirit, loves the broken, and leads us to His throne of grace full of splendor beyond compare.  We are beautiful in His sight!  One day I pray that we will see these truths ever so clearly as the pains of this world give way to His richest glory forevermore.

And for that we are definitely going to need sunglasses, eh?  JJ

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I Survived

I survived.  A little traumatized, perhaps, nonetheless I survived.

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Medical testing needs to advance to the level of the scanner once flashed on classic episodes of Star Trek.  You know:  the kind where the Doc runs a device much like the handheld bar code readers of today up and down all the areas of your body that are amiss.  Sure would save a bit o’ grief, a bit o’ money too.

Poop and pee tests are gross.  So was the Lasix Renal Scan for me this past week when I decided NOT to be catheterized.  Eeeeek!  Jared, the nuclear radiology technician, was as nice as he could be and even said that I “looked fit!”  How sweet!  But inside this frail frame of mine are weak bones and an aching backside/kidney area for largely unknown reasons.  I am sad.  Just when I thought that a myriad of toxicities and stealth infections were my worst nightmare, it turns out that there are other complexities to explain why I feel so unwell.  But hey, the Lord still appears to be orchestrating a mysterious journey through it all.  And I lived through this last event to tell my story . . . again!

I’ll bet that Joseph as described in the book of Genesis knew everything there was to know about “survival.”  Sold into slavery then rising to be the head of the Pharaoh’s (President’s) household was cast into a dungeon for years when falsely accused.  He still acted righteously over and over again only to be forgotten until one day vindicated; he praised the Lord for the marvelous goodness that would come after his years of suffering.  Joseph is a model for  me of what it means to be a faithful steward of the experiences God allowed in his life.  He did not lose heart, he kept going despite severe trials then gave glory to the Lord when good things happened.  I want to be like Joseph.  His words to his brothers who had started his torment were:

Genesis 50:20New International Version (NIV)

20 You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.

And the Lord’s promise to His children are that one day:

Revelation 21:4 New International Version (NIV)

‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

I hope that someday my lessons from life will be centered more on the wonders of God’s creation in my garden and such than the saga of enduring a serious illness.  Until that day I will not lose heart.  Please don’t you lose heart either, Gentle Reader.  God is still on the throne and will make “beauty from (our) ashes” one day.  (They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor!  Isaiah 61:3)  Until then let’s look to the face of Jesus Christ who has promised to make all things new one day, one day soon.  Truly this is our source of “hope beyond,” no?  JJ

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Gratitude for the little big things

So it’s Thanksgiving and nothing went as we had hoped: our trip to Texas to be with my hubby’s family got cancelled after my recent ER visit with severe back pain, alternate plans never materialized, and we had to cancel dinner reservations for tonight due to seizure spikes for most of the afternoon. Today is our wedding anniversary too. When I apologized for wreaking havoc on my hubby’s holiday, his response was, “well we’re saving money left and right!” And now you see who I am so thankful for this holiday.

I love you Steve.  Happy anniversary!

And Godspeed Gentle Readerfb_img_1480031316027. :J

Slow but sure

Whenever my Dad’s mom was facing a setback in her health she had one phrase regarding her progress, “I am getting there, slow but sure.”  She might be in the hospital with an exceedingly painful case of shingles but her response was just the same.  Surely this attitude endeared many of the medical staff to care for her just a little more.  I sure appreciated her more when she reassured me with these words over the phone 300 miles away.

slow but sure, slowly but surely, senior crossing, traffic sign, grandma, grandmother, sign

I have decided to borrow this attitude for myself.  Perhaps it will help with another temporary setback as I recover from a recent biopsy of my thyroid.  My neck hurts!  The procedures and resulting discomfort have triggered more noxious symptoms including those related to hormone fluctuations:  temperature dysregulation, blood sugar swings, occasional tearfulness, etc.  But it had to be done:  my third round of biopsies over the years at least this time was performed under conscious sedation.  Gratefully I did not have to be awake when they pushed that very long needle into my neck.  Eeeeek!

My recovery is coming along, slow but sure.  Today I was able to be upright more hours than yesterday and hopefully I will be able to leave the house tomorrow for an appointment before my infusion of antibiotics in the afternoon.  The latter continue 3x per week as they will very likely for the total of a year of IV ceftriaxone.  We are trusting the Lord to provide for all of this; we have had to pay thousands per month ourselves for most of this year.  With treatment by a naturopath and genetic coach, compounded medications and supplements, and every kind of co-pay there is, we should qualify for a medical tax deduction for the year without any problem!

At least now I am not failing unto death any more.  What good would I be to anyone to allow my health to decline without a fight?  I believe the Lord gave me a brain, five years, and an unusual provision of resources to get this job done so getter done I shall with my beloved Stevers leading the way.  Slowly but surely this train will reach the proverbial “Station*” just in time someday with a little less baggage for having fought the good fight.  And it looks like things may be looking up soon (provided the biopsy results indicate that the thyroid nodules are benign!).  Regardless:  God is good.  All the time.  God is good.

I hope that you know that to be true too, Gentle Reader.  Feel free to tell me about it below . . .

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*https://justjuliewrites.com/2013/03/24/the-station-by-robert-j-hastings/