Chew on this....

"Joy is not an absence of struggle or sorrow but the taste of the presence of God as He surprises us with his gracious love, whatever the circumstances." -Dan Allander

Facing the challenges

I awoke Monday with a sharp pain on my left side, the middle of my back. I struggle to get to the bathroom noticing that I am having a much harder time then normal catching my breath. I call my primary physician. One of the perks of being chronically ill is that they are well acquainted with me. (Hey, we all like to have a place where everyone knows your name) . They agree to see me right away and I get an appointment before noon. By the time I get to the office my lips are blue and I am having a hard time walking any distance.

Then comes the bad news is..... another hospital stay, more antibiotics, life goes on hold. The good news is it is not a collapsed lung like I feared; He thinks it's pneumonia but he is not certain because there is so much scar tissue on my lungs it is hard to know what is old and what is new. Clinically it is obvious that I am sick so bring on the IV's.

I am now on the road to recovery, feeling much better with the first hospitalization of '09 under my belt. As I write I breathe in deep and am thankful for the privilege of another day.

Happy New Year!

A few years ago, when I was in the middle of one of my worst lung infections, I remember opening the Christmas trunk and wondering if that would be the last time I opened it, the last time to pull out decorations, my last Christmas. Obviously it was not my last Christmas, but that type of thinking changes one's approach to life.

This year I purposefully unplugged from my blog, email and all things electronic over the holidays. I did this in an effort to be more fully present to my God, my self and those around me. It was a time to reflect, ponder and live in the now. It was good. Christmas was simple and relaxing. I was blessed with good health and went nearly a month without seeing a Doctor of one type or another.

Now it's time for a new year. I am attempting to live in expectancy without expectations. What does this mean? I wait and wonder what this year will bring. I know very well the things that matter the most are also the things we have the least control over. When struggles come it is often easier to give up hope then to wrestle with dreams that may never come true. Desire is a dangerous emotion opening our heart to all sorts of glorious adventures or possible pit falls. I am waiting and wondering, dreaming without demanding, going without goals. I fluctuate between feeling relaxed and terrified. Time will tell where this takes me.

The Gift of Mercy

The definition of mercy is "compassion or forbearance shown especially to an offender or to one subject to one's power." I am an offender. I have a nasty habit of being in a rush. Perhaps because I try to pack too much into my day; perhaps because I'm wired to be more of a rabbit then a turtle; perhaps I just think it is stupid to have a speed limit of 35 miles per hour in the main drag of town. Speeding is my way of protesting by civil disobedience an unreasonable law. Oh, why do I do the things I do? I do not know all the reasons. I am a complex creature with many motivations.

Anyone who says "it doesn't hurt to ask" has never been in front of the judge here in the friendly city of Athens, Tennessee. The first time I got a speeding ticket I threw myself on the mercy of the court. He looked me in the eye and crisply said, "Young lady, there is no mercy here." When that didn't work I asked if it would be better if I pleaded ignorance because I was new in town and unaware of the speed zones. His honor politely stated that ignorance is no excuse and suggested that I pay my ticket, have a nice day and be on my way.

So today I didn't expect any leniency. I was merely hoping to receive an extension in paying the latest fine. Sure enough, it was the same judge that I had been in front of before. I recognized him but I don't think he recognized me, the wig helped to disguise me. (Just kidding.) I told him my circumstances, that I am sick, that I am broke from paying so many medical expenses. He politely listened to my story and then said I am free to go. I was shocked. I didn't expect mercy. I know I don't deserve mercy. I am a law breaker.

As I reflect on this afternoon I am aware of a mixture of emotions including relief, gratitude and a new, foreign feeling-a desire to want to try harder to obey the law. I am indebted to a kind judge who showed me compassion when I deserved judgement.

The Gift of Time

Time is a funny thing. We all have 24 hours in a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. When things go by quickly we see time fly. When we are on a trip we want to make good time and travel there faster. We feel stressed when we are pressed for time. Most of us don't feel like we have enough time in the day and we try to buy some time by prioritizing our schedule. Yet many of us let time slip away. We suspect things will work out in due time and we can rest in knowing that time will tell all things. Perhaps because of my ponderings one might think I have too much time on my hands.

I have been given the gift of time. Last Tuesday I returned to Duke University for my 8 week check up. In spite of recent hospital stays I am doing well. My pulmonary function tests reports that my decline has stabilized. The doctor is not convinced that doing a transplant at this time would prolong my life any longer then not doing one at this time. In other words he thinks we can get some more mileage out of my current lungs. The whole purpose of transplant is to keep me alive as long as possible. I like that idea. I've got things to do, people to see, children to be raised, a life to be lived. I cherish my time for every moment is a gift to be enjoyed.

Perspective is all we need.

Today I will be going home from the hospital. I've been here since Tuesday. Apparently I caught a bug while waiting in the ER over the weekend for gall bladder surgery. I had been home less then 24 hours when my fever started spiking. So once again, I evoked all there is in me to do what I have to do and return to my home away from home. I am grateful for good doctors, good hospitals and medicines that eventually help you feel better.

With that being said let me also say that I really hate being sick. I hate the feeling of knowing that I cannot stop my body from feeling like it's been hit by a mac truck. I cannot stop the feeling of being left behind while all the world goes on with their lives, right on schedule. I cannot stop the disconnect that happens with my family because I have no emotional or physical energy to offer them. I remind myself when I enter the hospital that this too shall pass.

The first few days go quickly as I lay around and sleep most of the time, exhausted from the effort of breathing, relieved that I have nothing to do but rest. Usually by the third or fourth day I am revived enough to watch TV. I like to watch Discovery health channel. I am reminded that there are many far worse off then I am. Last night I viewed the documentary about autistic savant twins obsessed with Dick Clark. The show really helped me feel good about my situation. Perspective, the capacity to view thing in their true relations or relative importance, is all we need.

Change of Plans

I awoke yesterday eagerly looking forward to communing with Mother Nature in the mountains. The leaves are at their peak and we were going to travel to the Smokies to see their vibrancy up close and personal. I knew our plans were about to change when I woke myself up moaning with pain. I had the worst stomach ache I've ever experienced. No matter what position I laid in I could not get comfortable. By the time the doctor opened his office at 9 I had been in pain for several hours and knew I needed to be seen. The rest of the day was spent consulting with specialists, obtaining blood work, doing tests and traveling to the hospital in Knoxville. A little before midnight last night I bid my final farewell to my gall bladder.

Today I am in recovery mode with my precious narcotics bringing me sweet relief. Perhaps next weekend I'll make it to the mountains.