Tag: mold

She remains silent

Published on by Jesus is for the WoundedLeave a comment

The Jane magnolia remains silent at the birth of April’s Spring

Her violet blooms resting beneath garments of fuzzy gray pods

Waiting, tempted to peek into the sunshine, then waiting some more

For emerging too soon would be to her peril and loss of beauty, my dear.

Oh if I but could rest not by angst but by design like my friend

Knowing the Divine timing and trusting therein better than I have

That loveliness would come in the fullness of my time as well

Instead of deadness, jagged edges of pain, the tazoring of my mind.

Will there come a day when I shall join you in the sunshine of morn’?

When I unfold to freedom of spirit, of movement as in song so sweet?

Where there is little thought to my comings and goings:  I will just go

Just live and give and do and think, knowing all is right with the world?

I do not think it is right that I should suffer so day in then day out

With hope only of heaven when my hopes are dashed 10,000 times and more

The seeking compels me for hours:  pouring over records, research, and facts

Only to be smashed against the wall of my limits, my fate, the unanswered prayer.

What will my own senescence bring?

There is no patience left in me to endure.

No resolve carries me through.

Tears from deep caverns gush forth . . .

But breathe I shall for time shall march forth into the Spring of each new day

Life will go on as our Lord promises His love will go with us along the way

Perhaps one day I shall “bloom where I am planted” as the ol’ poster exhorts

Ever loud, ever quiet, ever true for having stepped out in faith ever simply,

and even ever small.

JJ

 

Jane, magnolia, poetry, Christian, gardenng, Spring, pink, flower

What becomes normal

Published on by Jesus is for the WoundedLeave a comment

Truly none of us are normal deep down inside.  We all have our crazy stuff, some more than others of course (myself included!).  Better for most of that stuff to stay buried you say?  Maybe so.  Then again, why ever lose hope for becoming more whole, getting well?

For some of us, we don’t get to choose what will be normal for us and our loved ones.  This is particularly true when someone gets sick or suffers a serious accident affecting them for say, 6 months or longer.  After 6 months the healthcare profession changes your status from acute to chronic.  By then the “normal” way of life has broken down and often looks a lot different than before the event.  Expectations can change for the future; often people look at you or treat you differently as well affecting many, many relationships.

When living with a serious, ongoing illness or disability, new norms for life get set in motion and become habit.  At some point we have to adapt to the changes in routines, levels of functioning, finances, symptoms, emotions, social dynamics, recreation, work, and more.  If we don’t adapt then we would spend incredible amounts of energy and resources repeatedly trying to figure out how to cope with the changes.  Instead, new daily activities get strung together as new habits, eventually become routines and may even become a new identity as they combine into roles such as “patient,” or “caregiver.”  The phrase, “new normal” comes to mind when such profound changes affect both our lives and the persons around us every day.

We don’t necessarily like where we have landed when it is undesirable.  Sometimes we can’t change things for awhile; other times the changes become permanent.  We do have to make a choice about how we cope with all of it emotionally and in our thought processes including our self-talk.  Will we be angry or find peace perhaps in the promises of our Lord, Jesus Christ?  Will we give up or keep seeking for answers to aid our recovery?   Who will we blame for our lot in life at any given moment?  Acceptance may come or it may never arrive on our doorstep.  However, some semblance of acceptance is key for moving forward.

The process for me in finding a new normal has occurred slowly over 5 years of battling a serious illness.  If I were to summarize the 3 tests noted above of adaptation, emotional adjustment, and thought processes I would admit that I do not like most of the current outcomes.  I don’t like the myriad of mold and chemical-avoidance strategies that everyone in our home must complete every day to minimize triggering a seizure attack episode for me.  But we do them anyways.  I used to cry just about every day and now it’s much less, mostly when discouraged by roadblocks in my care. But I keep searching anyways for answers.  Lastly, I don’t and have never doubted that these daily wretched episodes have a biological (NOT psychological) cause that can be treated.  So I use the tools I have to help myself get well.  I don’t know when or how or why the episodes will stop.  I do believe that one day they will stop completely.

And when the seizures stop I will embrace a new normal.  Things won’t be the same as they were 5 years ago when I was working as an occupational therapist in home health care.  My physical frame is weaker and injured from all of the physical trauma and I’m not sure how much I can get back.  I will try, however!  I can no longer attend our church, contributing to the loss of many relationships that were just getting started when I got sick.  Travelling is restricted to camping in the Tin Can Ranch (on wheels!) for the foreseeable future.  On the flipside, a few positive outcomes include having tremendously increased my computer skills, renewed my interest in entrepreneurship, and desire to support my husband’s growing paddling dealership.  Being his helpmate has given me purpose on my sickest days when making his lunch when I am awake in the middle of the night was all I could do for my Stevers.

What becomes unpleasantly “normal” may not have to stay that way forever (and usually doesn’t).  Those of us who learn to trust in the plan that the Lord has for our lives may find it easier to accept the changes when they come.  We let the Holy Spirit guide us, comfort us along the way.  We keep our eyes fixed on Christ and our hearts and minds soaking up His Word.  We are then better able to let go of wanting things to be as they were and are better ready to grow into the possibilities of a more meaningful, maybe even more fun, tomorrow.  I never thought I would be the Assistant Editor of a national canoe and kayaking magazine nor blog or help an artist friend complete her website.  I just did what I could with what I had, where I was (as Theodore Roosevelt once said) and have landed in a better place in many ways.   Better yet, I trusted in knowing:

Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)

11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

You will be the first to know about those plans for sure, Gentle Reader.  We have come a long way together, you and me.  I thank you for sharing my journey.  Feel free to share your thoughts about the “normal.”  We are going to be alright no matter which side of the spectrum we are on, eh?  JJ

After TriAdventure Race
Steve and I celebrate his team win at the 2010 Maumee Tri Adventure Race

Go back

Your message has been sent

One Day

Published on by Jesus is for the WoundedLeave a comment

Friday my Doctor recommended some new supplements to further my care and seemed pleased at some progress revealed in retesting of my gut health.  But neither product is available right now; instead I had to crash in bed that night and most of Saturday.

Yesterday I thought I would work on trimming a sterile plum tree in our backyard that is riddled with black knot disease.  We are trying to save it for a few more years of it’s flowering glory in the Spring and rich wine-colored leaves in the Summer.  It was not to be so today.

Tomorrow I hope that my trial of THC-free hemp oil will resume with receipt of a shipment in the mail.  I didn’t realize when I started it recently, how much I would need nor the extra timing needed for shipments across our country.  This could help resolve the seizure attacks as soon as this week . . . if I get the dosing right . . . and if the next shipment arrives shortly thereafter.  But there was a fire in a warehouse between here and there, threatening my continuity of care.  Maybe I will have enough?  Maybe not?  Lord knows that one day we will have figured this all out!

When today came I thought I might clean our bathrooms and floors then complete an infrared sauna treatment before heading outside.  Instead I was sick.  Only the sauna treatment happened.

Then later and just when it looked like the core of my treatment plan was coming together, another infection sent me and my beloved to the walk-in clinic of our local hospital.  Geez oh man.  Steve offered to take me out to dinner last night but I could not make it.  I was hoping to take a walk with him and the pup in the sunny, 50-degree weather.  Nope, not today.

I cried a lot before proceeding with what we did need to take care of me today.  Life sure is funny.  Perhaps some medical appointments this coming week will clarify what I should do next to get well in addition to responding to urgent changes that seem to come along every few days.  And maybe someday, one day, we will make plans for something fun and they will really happen!

In the meantime,  date nights will be at a clinic or pharmacy at Walgreens or driving to the nearest metropolis for a fancy  NeuroQuant brain scan.  At least in the case of the latter, we got to see a dear friend, Mary, for a quick lunch at Freshii’s in Chicago’s Loop.  Now that’s making the most of a day, eh?

Straining to trust in my Lord this night.  Choosing to trust in His Word and promise to carry me through it all no matter what may be one day for:

There is a time for everything,
    and a season for every activity under the heavens:

2     a time to be born and a time to die,
    a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3     a time to kill and a time to heal,
    a time to tear down and a time to build,
4     a time to weep and a time to laugh,
    a time to mourn and a time to dance,
5     a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
    a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
6     a time to search and a time to give up,
    a time to keep and a time to throw away,
7     a time to tear and a time to mend,
    a time to be silent and a time to speak,
8     a time to love and a time to hate,
    a time for war and a time for peace.

9 What do workers gain from their toil? 10 I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. 11 He has made everything beautiful in its time.   Ecclesiastes 3

Go back

Your message has been sent

Full Moon Follies

Published on by Jesus is for the WoundedLeave a comment

My beloved qualified as my “Night in Shining Armour” last night.  If only it were for a victorious time instead of quite the opposite . . .

One would hope that significant interventions to quiet my inner storm would start working already.  Or at least tame the tempest beast when challenges such as noxious exposures and the mysterious workings of a full  moon come along.  I have read a hundred or more testimonies of the latter:  that for persons battling chronic disease, symptoms can worsen around the time of a full moon.  Perhaps it coincides with the life cycle of various bacteria or parasites?  Who really knows?  What I do know is that the worst of everything came forth and both of us are pretty beat up today from the lack of sleep along with the emotional and physical trauma.

  • Continuous convulsive spikes of every dimension
  • Headache, joint and muscle pain, ringing in my ears, dysarthria, bradykinesia, left-sided parasthesia, hypersensitivity to sensory stimuli
  • Visual anomalies (spots of bright lights when my eyes were closed)
  • Cognitive slowing
  • Difficulty breathing and communicating
  • Incredible frustration and discouragement leading to hysterical crying and anguish
  • Neurological collapse requiring maximum assistance with feeding, toileting, and dressing
  • Eventually passing out in bed around 2:30 a.m., partially dressed with no recollection of falling asleep

The 100% THC-free CBD oil provided a temporary pause in seizure attacks as did a large dose of liposomal Biocidin.  The entire episode finally ended shortly after taking my (3rd) nightly dose of Low Dose Naltrexone.  I must add that the only positive part of this experience was when I could open my eyes and saw my hubby in his night clothes as he cared for me.  I liked that!

Please pray for us.  We are exhausted.  The demands of life go on just the same.  My MRI with NeuroQuant study our of State will be delayed due to severe weather expected tomorrow; I am hoping to reschedule the appointment for later in the week.  Let’s hope that the NeuroQuant and the updating of multiple medical tests this month will be fruitful, Lord willing.  My Jesus goes before us and sees us through it all.  I trust in His timing, His plan for our lives.  Thank you for praying.

And thank you Steve for your heroic love and care.  May the Lord carry you today.

We wait on the Lord this day and always as we try to figure this out!  This illness is killing us. JJ

Gyrations of health: a Testimony

Published on by Jesus is for the WoundedLeave a comment

If a cyanobacteria exposure in a reservoir creates the same biotoxin illness as mold exposure, then why did I not tolerate the Shoemaker protocol to recover from both?

Tis the gyrations of health, I guess, like a drone spinning out of control from the pond beyond to the one drowning in our own backyard.

If latent Lyme disease reared its ugly head but resisted treatment with 3 increasingly costly protocols over 5 years, then why do I keep barking up this fallen tree anyhoo?

Tis the juxtapose of stealth bugs who hide, change their DNA, become resistant or move from my big toe to deep within the brain raising havoc all the while.

If a chain of serious viral infections can hang their shingles on my weakened frame at Christmastime, then why does not 30 days of treatment make barely a dent in one of them, huh?

Tis the nature of complex illness when antibiotics awakens a sleeping class of infection, pushing me to a sideline call more spectacular than a Super Bowl play in overtime.

If heavy metal toxicity met its match with the best testing, detox protocol, and success, then why is it still possible that more mercury, lead, and maybe aluminum may linger undetected in me still?

Tis the nature of blood, urine, and hair sampling that only captures that which is circulating or secreting not the poisons imbedded in tissues only a needle in a haystack would find.

If I can gain 34 more diagnoses with one trip around the calendar trying to get well, then why would we even question that there’s a need for a new tune, a break, and yet more prayer?

Tis the nature of hopes dashed while waiting and seeing what may come (not wasting time asking “why” instead of professing “I will trust you Lord.  Show me how.  See me.  And love me through it too.”)

If when married in the past and health challenges that now look like child’s play came but crushed life as I knew it, then it would be many years later that my intended beloved would show me true love:  how true faith conquers all, overcomes.

Tis the nature of fake religion which fails when life gets hard.  A God-fearing man seeks the Lord.  A God-fearing woman does too and this will be our calling card when this chapter of our lives is through.

And if my writings, my research, the doctoring, trial-n-error, or treatments really worked for something good, then why the heck would I still be seizing each day with “the flu” and pain that has marked 5 years of disabling suffering?

Tis the mystery of bothering to recover, trusting in the Lord who has saved me from far worse knowing that one day we shall rejoice, you and me Gentle Reader, if we but hang in there a little longer with hope beyond the gyrations of this life.

I’m in.  How ’bout you?  JJ