I read this verse to Joyce tonight. She was lying there in her hospital bed. I was standing beside her bed reading aloud in the light of the bathroom with the door propped slightly open by a large garbage can. I read a few Psalms and we talked about certain verses that she liked. I felt a little bit like the catholic priest that I see walking the halls of Guardian Angels nursing home. I did not look the part but just felt a little odd standing beside a bed in the dark reading Scripture. It was good to read God's Word although it's not always comforting. Sometimes, in those dark times, you read about God's faithfulness but wonder why He is not showing up in the form of improvement or brightening up the darkness. It's hard to feel as if His presence is enough to bring comfort, although several verses I read spoke directly to that.
She lay there with her eyes closed, listening. I would stop between chapters and ask her what to read next. She offered ideas, some with stories about how her Mother read that to her during scary times. Poor dear looked pitiful swallowed up her her hospital gown, her hair pointing this way and that from being smushed against a pillow for the past 2 days. Her arm was marked from the blood pressure cuff that she wore in the ER when this whole mess began on Wednesday. Crystal, her soft, white stuffed kitty, was tucked in her arms, against her chest. She moaned about the pain in her stomach. It's been a long day for her and those taking care of her.
Finally, sleep came, and she breathed deeply, slowly, peacefully. I pray that my mom can do the same..
Be still.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Monday, February 21, 2011
hospital
The last few days have been a blur...unexpected, unpredictable, strangely amazing. God has worked good through what didn't feel very good at all.
Wednesday was a perfectly lovely day. The sun was warm, the snow mountains were melting, Evie's Valentines party was a success. The day was over before I knew it...time for bed. Around 11pm something suddenly didn't feel so right in my gut and I spent the rest of the night in agony. A call to the nurseline at 4:45 was the prompting I needed to get Andy and Evie up and make a trip to the Emergency Department. My mom agreed to watch Evie so after Andy dropped me off, he drove her up to Nama and Bampa's house. Evie was thrilled with how her day was beginning. Oh the bliss of childhood!
As true to any Emergency Department visit, it's all just a bunch of hurry up and wait. And wait we did...with the help of narcotics and anti-nausea medication. Some bloodwork, a CT and an Ultrasound later, our kind and compassionate doctor came and told us that despite the normal results of all my testing, he felt it was necessary that I be admitted. This was a huge answer to prayer. Alot of my previous experience with doctors has been a rather disappointing- if they don't see the problem, there simply isn't one. God gave us the gift of a doctor who saw beyond the test results to look for something that he wasn't finding. My tears of discouragement became tears of encouragement as I saw a glimmer of hope.
And then more waiting. My mom was with me at this point as Andy had taken Evie home to nap. Evelyn is a great napper, but only within her own 4 wooden walls. Finally, the admitting doctor came in and discussed the great mystery I was proving to be. So many normal test results. (sigh) It's rather funny to think that we would find much more comfort in a test result that showed a problem- no news is not good news in this case.
Many hours later I was moved to room 419, a room with a view and kind nurses. My mom, yes my mom, decided to have fun with the buttons on my bed and I found myself moving up and down and back and forth. I'd never realized just how high those beds could go! I was getting a little panicky that the doctor would come in and find me nearly pressed against the ceiling tiles, but she had me down just in time. It wasn't long before the physicians assistant came in. Kate was kind but full of questions but short on answers. She told us she would need to consult with the physician. Dr Allen came in next. He was middle aged, friendly and sort of resembled Donald Sutherland (with very pearly whites). Dr Allen was thoughtful, asked direct questions and continued looking at me after I finished saying things, digesting what I just said. People who think on the spot like that are a little unnerving to me, but I was glad that he was listening and hearing me. He went on to offer suggestions and ideas for new things to look for. He was not convinced that I have Celiac Disease, an idea that sounded wildly exciting. He wrote up a list of tests and headed out. We were elated- finally, someone was coming up with some ideas that sounded reasonable.
The afternoon was a bit of a blur...my nurse, crazy-Mary, vital checks, blood draws, phone calls and nothing to eat or drink. My mom left and Andy came back for a bit with a bag of necessities, just as I was devouring a grilled chicken breast with brown rice. I had also ordered green beans but they came looking a lot more like broccoli, which my stomach isn't very fond of, so I ate a stalk or two and left the rest. I was pleased that they let me eat- I was famished. Andy's visit was over before we knew it and I was alone. It felt very strange. I'm so used to a little toddler dancing around my legs, "talking" on her phone as I'm making dinner...the usual things. But, I was so thankful to be in a place where they might find some answers. I'm so very tired of feeling sick.
My evening ended with a visit from my dear friends, Michelle and Christina. We had originally scheduled a mom's night out at PF Changs for that evening and they kindly agreed to moved our gathering place from a tasty restaurant to room 419. It felt so good to laugh. Thank you Lord for good friends!
It's a good thing I don't have sleep issues...I had no trouble falling back asleep after being woken up every hour or two all night. Morning came early. After my 6am lab draw I sat up and watched the sunrise, listening to the tick-tock of the clock and the humming of my IV machine.It was so peaceful. I prayed, asking God to be so near- the past few months have been such a test of my faith. God was there, I knew it, but He has been so silent. His Word seemed like just words and my prayers felt like they just hit the ceiling and fell back down. It was a good quiet time. I was thankful for those moments to pray and reflect on how God had worked in the past 24 hours. And then I spent a little time "fixing" myself up...it wasn't pretty but slightly improved. Bedhead needs more than just a little fluffing!
More hurry up and wait and then, a trip to the procedure department to have my stomach scoped. It was my third scope, I wasn't scared but I should have been. I'm not sure why, but they decided to leave me quite awake. It's not a particularly pleasant experience to have a tube pushed down your throat and down into your stomach especially when you can feel it go down and then move like a small monster in your gut. A few biopsies and then we were done. Laying alone in the recovery room, I cried. Hungry, uncomfortable, a little scared and waking up from anesthesia. I just felt sad. A young aid came in to wheel me upstairs and saw my tears. He quietly went and found a tissue box which he handed to me.
The afternoon tick-tocked by...Andy was working and my mom was caring for Evie, so I was by myself. I left my door open so I could hear the sounds of life outside my door. My nurse, Amy, was hilarious and full of things to chat about. Between the TV, chatting with Amy and a phone call or two my afternoon passed. Around 4:30, they went over my discharge instructions and sent me on my way...oh how good it felt to walk without an IV pole and wear real clothes! On way down the hall I saw a sign and just happend to notice my
doctor's name on it, so I stopped to check it out. What a fantastic surprise to discover that God had allowed me to be there for such a time, Dr Allen is one of the top GI doctors in the state! What a surprise...what a miracle!
And so, the journey continues. I don't feel well, but I'm confident that God is in this and I can rest in Him. He knows my need, He holds my tears, and He cares for me.
to be continued....
Wednesday was a perfectly lovely day. The sun was warm, the snow mountains were melting, Evie's Valentines party was a success. The day was over before I knew it...time for bed. Around 11pm something suddenly didn't feel so right in my gut and I spent the rest of the night in agony. A call to the nurseline at 4:45 was the prompting I needed to get Andy and Evie up and make a trip to the Emergency Department. My mom agreed to watch Evie so after Andy dropped me off, he drove her up to Nama and Bampa's house. Evie was thrilled with how her day was beginning. Oh the bliss of childhood!
As true to any Emergency Department visit, it's all just a bunch of hurry up and wait. And wait we did...with the help of narcotics and anti-nausea medication. Some bloodwork, a CT and an Ultrasound later, our kind and compassionate doctor came and told us that despite the normal results of all my testing, he felt it was necessary that I be admitted. This was a huge answer to prayer. Alot of my previous experience with doctors has been a rather disappointing- if they don't see the problem, there simply isn't one. God gave us the gift of a doctor who saw beyond the test results to look for something that he wasn't finding. My tears of discouragement became tears of encouragement as I saw a glimmer of hope.
And then more waiting. My mom was with me at this point as Andy had taken Evie home to nap. Evelyn is a great napper, but only within her own 4 wooden walls. Finally, the admitting doctor came in and discussed the great mystery I was proving to be. So many normal test results. (sigh) It's rather funny to think that we would find much more comfort in a test result that showed a problem- no news is not good news in this case.
Many hours later I was moved to room 419, a room with a view and kind nurses. My mom, yes my mom, decided to have fun with the buttons on my bed and I found myself moving up and down and back and forth. I'd never realized just how high those beds could go! I was getting a little panicky that the doctor would come in and find me nearly pressed against the ceiling tiles, but she had me down just in time. It wasn't long before the physicians assistant came in. Kate was kind but full of questions but short on answers. She told us she would need to consult with the physician. Dr Allen came in next. He was middle aged, friendly and sort of resembled Donald Sutherland (with very pearly whites). Dr Allen was thoughtful, asked direct questions and continued looking at me after I finished saying things, digesting what I just said. People who think on the spot like that are a little unnerving to me, but I was glad that he was listening and hearing me. He went on to offer suggestions and ideas for new things to look for. He was not convinced that I have Celiac Disease, an idea that sounded wildly exciting. He wrote up a list of tests and headed out. We were elated- finally, someone was coming up with some ideas that sounded reasonable.
The afternoon was a bit of a blur...my nurse, crazy-Mary, vital checks, blood draws, phone calls and nothing to eat or drink. My mom left and Andy came back for a bit with a bag of necessities, just as I was devouring a grilled chicken breast with brown rice. I had also ordered green beans but they came looking a lot more like broccoli, which my stomach isn't very fond of, so I ate a stalk or two and left the rest. I was pleased that they let me eat- I was famished. Andy's visit was over before we knew it and I was alone. It felt very strange. I'm so used to a little toddler dancing around my legs, "talking" on her phone as I'm making dinner...the usual things. But, I was so thankful to be in a place where they might find some answers. I'm so very tired of feeling sick.
My evening ended with a visit from my dear friends, Michelle and Christina. We had originally scheduled a mom's night out at PF Changs for that evening and they kindly agreed to moved our gathering place from a tasty restaurant to room 419. It felt so good to laugh. Thank you Lord for good friends!
It's a good thing I don't have sleep issues...I had no trouble falling back asleep after being woken up every hour or two all night. Morning came early. After my 6am lab draw I sat up and watched the sunrise, listening to the tick-tock of the clock and the humming of my IV machine.It was so peaceful. I prayed, asking God to be so near- the past few months have been such a test of my faith. God was there, I knew it, but He has been so silent. His Word seemed like just words and my prayers felt like they just hit the ceiling and fell back down. It was a good quiet time. I was thankful for those moments to pray and reflect on how God had worked in the past 24 hours. And then I spent a little time "fixing" myself up...it wasn't pretty but slightly improved. Bedhead needs more than just a little fluffing!
More hurry up and wait and then, a trip to the procedure department to have my stomach scoped. It was my third scope, I wasn't scared but I should have been. I'm not sure why, but they decided to leave me quite awake. It's not a particularly pleasant experience to have a tube pushed down your throat and down into your stomach especially when you can feel it go down and then move like a small monster in your gut. A few biopsies and then we were done. Laying alone in the recovery room, I cried. Hungry, uncomfortable, a little scared and waking up from anesthesia. I just felt sad. A young aid came in to wheel me upstairs and saw my tears. He quietly went and found a tissue box which he handed to me.
The afternoon tick-tocked by...Andy was working and my mom was caring for Evie, so I was by myself. I left my door open so I could hear the sounds of life outside my door. My nurse, Amy, was hilarious and full of things to chat about. Between the TV, chatting with Amy and a phone call or two my afternoon passed. Around 4:30, they went over my discharge instructions and sent me on my way...oh how good it felt to walk without an IV pole and wear real clothes! On way down the hall I saw a sign and just happend to notice my
doctor's name on it, so I stopped to check it out. What a fantastic surprise to discover that God had allowed me to be there for such a time, Dr Allen is one of the top GI doctors in the state! What a surprise...what a miracle!
And so, the journey continues. I don't feel well, but I'm confident that God is in this and I can rest in Him. He knows my need, He holds my tears, and He cares for me.
to be continued....
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
will you be my valentine?
Evie hosted her first party today. She did a great job! Great snacks, fun toys, darling favors....she has the knack! Well, maybe I helped her a little bit...
Abby, Nathan, Anasatasia, Elizabeth, Evie
Thursday, February 10, 2011
the regular
It's a regular day. A day filled with regular things, the regular people, regular tasks. And then, in a moment, you hear or see something that changes 'regular' into something different. Sometimes, on those regular days we are looking for something to change things up, to add a little spice or perhaps a little calm. Sometimes, regular is just what you need and you embrace it. It's safe.
Today was a regular day. I woke up beside the love of my life. I picked up my baby and she snuggled in my arms. I took a shower, ate breakfast...you get the idea here. Oh, but I must add that we did have a little surprise in our morning- my mom came over. Such a welcome surprise she was! Generally speaking though, things were pretty regular until...
I prayed for God to show Himself to me. My fearful, needy heart needed some encouragement, something to help me see with hope that I'm held and loved. I'm quite sure that when I prayed those words I had in mind a clear idea of what would give me that "hope". But, God's ways are higher...better. Instead of what I thought I needed, I was given a glimpse into the life of someone who was suffering greatly and suffering well. She knew hope. Hope well beyond the agony she lived. And she praised and glorified her God. And then yesterday, He gave her rest and welcomed her into His presence. I'd never met this woman but her life touched mine.
As if that was not enough, God moved again...and I received a call from a friend who had just lost the baby she had carried in her womb for the last 8 weeks. We shared tears, not because I've experienced that loss, but simply because the ache in her heart made mine hurt too. We prayed.
God hears our prayers. Oh how He longs to hear us pray big things so He can show us big things.
The day is coming to an end. It's a regular evening...only it's not.
What should I pray for tomorrow?
Today was a regular day. I woke up beside the love of my life. I picked up my baby and she snuggled in my arms. I took a shower, ate breakfast...you get the idea here. Oh, but I must add that we did have a little surprise in our morning- my mom came over. Such a welcome surprise she was! Generally speaking though, things were pretty regular until...
I prayed for God to show Himself to me. My fearful, needy heart needed some encouragement, something to help me see with hope that I'm held and loved. I'm quite sure that when I prayed those words I had in mind a clear idea of what would give me that "hope". But, God's ways are higher...better. Instead of what I thought I needed, I was given a glimpse into the life of someone who was suffering greatly and suffering well. She knew hope. Hope well beyond the agony she lived. And she praised and glorified her God. And then yesterday, He gave her rest and welcomed her into His presence. I'd never met this woman but her life touched mine.
As if that was not enough, God moved again...and I received a call from a friend who had just lost the baby she had carried in her womb for the last 8 weeks. We shared tears, not because I've experienced that loss, but simply because the ache in her heart made mine hurt too. We prayed.
God hears our prayers. Oh how He longs to hear us pray big things so He can show us big things.
The day is coming to an end. It's a regular evening...only it's not.
What should I pray for tomorrow?
to do
Naturally, I created lovely blog entries in my head as I folded laundry, cleaned up the toy-splosion and made supper yesterday. It was bittersweet...sweet to know that my brain is not permanently on a train ride to nowhere but bitter to think that I wasted all that time staring at a blank screen trying to will my mind to think clever thoughts. So, I guess the jokes on me!
Today, I will start with my to-do list and empty my thoughts out later...
Today, I will start with my to-do list and empty my thoughts out later...
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
train ride to nowhere
I'm looking for some thoughts to write here but can't seem to focus my mind on creating more than a few sentances when my train of thought derails. I hop on another train and the same thing happens. Writer's block? Maybe. Or, perhaps it's my conscience trying to get me up off this chair to attack the laundry baskets full of clean laundry, the dirty dishes beside the sink, the toy-spolosion in my living room, the pile of things in the basement that need to be recorded on a tax-deductible sheet so they can be donated or the host of other things that are calling out from the 'to-do' list that I wrote them on yesterday. Who wants to read about that?
Let's try again...
It has been a long, cold winter. A snowy, long, cold winter. The kind of winter that I always hoped for as a child. Where has the wonder gone? It's buried under a snowdrift, I'm afraid, and it's stuck there until spring. Kind of like our nativity scene from Christmas. Walking past our house you might see a few heads stuck in the snow...don't worry, it's Mary and Joseph. Poor baby Jesus is buried beneath the snow.
Shoot, another train bites the dust. This a lousy excuse for a blog post but I can't bear to think that all this time would have gone to waste. And so, I suppose I should rise from this chair and to the occasion...and get to work.
Let's try again...
It has been a long, cold winter. A snowy, long, cold winter. The kind of winter that I always hoped for as a child. Where has the wonder gone? It's buried under a snowdrift, I'm afraid, and it's stuck there until spring. Kind of like our nativity scene from Christmas. Walking past our house you might see a few heads stuck in the snow...don't worry, it's Mary and Joseph. Poor baby Jesus is buried beneath the snow.
Shoot, another train bites the dust. This a lousy excuse for a blog post but I can't bear to think that all this time would have gone to waste. And so, I suppose I should rise from this chair and to the occasion...and get to work.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
The Ordinary
It's funny how even ordinary things become simply wonderful. Let's take a shower as our example today. I love to take those few minutes to myself when the tornado is under the watchful eyes of daddy. The sound of the water drowns out the noise of the world and it's warm like a tropical vacation. No need to put my contacts in first soI can see just how much the tub needs cleaning. Just relax and enjoy....
On two recent occasions those longed for quiet moments were not quite so dreamy....
The first experience was after my wonderful get-a-way had ended and I had checked in for little monkey duty. It was daddy's turn for a few minutes in the tropics. Evs and I were making breakfast when daddy returned. "Wow," he said, "did you see the giant spider on the shower handle?" Anyone who knows me knows of my great dislike for the entire bug population. My blind eyes did NOT see Mr. Spider. Maybe it was just as well that my contacts were safely tucked away in the medicine cabinet that day. The neighbors would have heard my scream...
Fast forward one week to story number 2. Daddy and little monkey were in the living room, so I thought it was safe to slip away. I'm not quite sure how things happened, but even the shower couldn't drown out the sound. Crash, bang...what was all that noise? Drum roll practice in the living room...a REAL tornado...all that snow caving in our roof? No peace for mommy that morning. Curiosity (and yes, I admit, a little frustration) got the best of me and I hurried to peek my head out the door. There she was. She was not alone. She had carefully selected my current read- a hardcover book- and a few of her own hard, plastic toys and used them against the bathroom door. A protest, no doubt, for being left alone. Alone...where was daddy? Well, he did hear the banging but thought all was well, since there were no tears. Valid point there:)
And through it all there is joy...much joy!
On two recent occasions those longed for quiet moments were not quite so dreamy....
The first experience was after my wonderful get-a-way had ended and I had checked in for little monkey duty. It was daddy's turn for a few minutes in the tropics. Evs and I were making breakfast when daddy returned. "Wow," he said, "did you see the giant spider on the shower handle?" Anyone who knows me knows of my great dislike for the entire bug population. My blind eyes did NOT see Mr. Spider. Maybe it was just as well that my contacts were safely tucked away in the medicine cabinet that day. The neighbors would have heard my scream...
Fast forward one week to story number 2. Daddy and little monkey were in the living room, so I thought it was safe to slip away. I'm not quite sure how things happened, but even the shower couldn't drown out the sound. Crash, bang...what was all that noise? Drum roll practice in the living room...a REAL tornado...all that snow caving in our roof? No peace for mommy that morning. Curiosity (and yes, I admit, a little frustration) got the best of me and I hurried to peek my head out the door. There she was. She was not alone. She had carefully selected my current read- a hardcover book- and a few of her own hard, plastic toys and used them against the bathroom door. A protest, no doubt, for being left alone. Alone...where was daddy? Well, he did hear the banging but thought all was well, since there were no tears. Valid point there:)
And through it all there is joy...much joy!
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Joy
I love my job.
I love the sweet, sloppy kisses...the sound of her voice...her little arms wrapped around my neck...her smile...her smell...the innocent and joy-filled way she takes in the world.
"Mama"...it takes my breath away everytime...
It's simply amazing how life changes. One minute, you're a starry eyed dreamer with hopes of happily ever after. The next thing you know (well, sometimes it feels like an awfully long wait), you've found "the one" and you count down the days until you trade in your ordinary self to become a wife. Love makes life better. It makes ordinary into extra-ordinary. And just when you think life couldn't get any better, it does. It's all about perspective, isn't it? The process of growing a baby isn't always particularly pleasant or comfortable. But, in the end the joy outweighs the sufferings. In a way, all of life is like that.
And so...sleepless nights, depression, sickness, tears and all the other changes that came along as part of the package deal, they are worth it. In spite of it all...there is joy, much joy.
I love the sweet, sloppy kisses...the sound of her voice...her little arms wrapped around my neck...her smile...her smell...the innocent and joy-filled way she takes in the world.
"Mama"...it takes my breath away everytime...
It's simply amazing how life changes. One minute, you're a starry eyed dreamer with hopes of happily ever after. The next thing you know (well, sometimes it feels like an awfully long wait), you've found "the one" and you count down the days until you trade in your ordinary self to become a wife. Love makes life better. It makes ordinary into extra-ordinary. And just when you think life couldn't get any better, it does. It's all about perspective, isn't it? The process of growing a baby isn't always particularly pleasant or comfortable. But, in the end the joy outweighs the sufferings. In a way, all of life is like that.
And so...sleepless nights, depression, sickness, tears and all the other changes that came along as part of the package deal, they are worth it. In spite of it all...there is joy, much joy.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)