Mike used to joke with me when he realized that diabetic retinapothy was going to eventually rob him of his sight: He said he felt the Rapture was so close that it was going to be a race between going blind and the Rapture. That was 2-3 years ago. I laughed.
I'm not laughing today.
We spent all of late last summer, all of the fall and winter and into spring dealing with his healing from necrotizing fasciitis. His eyes had not been a priority at the time. When April came and things were pretty much status quo with the leg, now it was time to see Dr. Westfall. We were not prepared for his observation: More internal bleeding in the right eye, with the retina detaching between 1-2 as you would see on a clock. Now that the leg is nearly healed, and all his docs have signed off on him going for walks, we are now walking. Two days so far, down to the end of the road and back home. I'm guessing it's about 1/4 mile. He used to throw 300 lbs. of something on his shoulder and climb up a ladder to traipse all over the roof of a house he'd build. Now getting down the block and back is a victory lap. But, I guess it's the victory laps that count the most.
We have to keep the faith. We are watching the news and see the world careening toward fulfilling more and more prophecy and then look at his eye, and who knows? We may very well be in a race between blindness or the Rapture.
I'm voting Rapture.
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Sunday, May 12, 2013
The angel named Jeff
WOW. God’s greatest
gifts and surprises are always, ALWAYS, where we least expect them, but that’s
what we have come to expect from Him.
Mike made it to church today, but it’s always a challenge
for a man that has really no behind to sit on a narrow church bench, no matter
how padded, and try to cram those long legs, both of which are injured, into
the narrowness of space between where he’s sitting and the bench in front of
him. If you don’t believe in spiritual
battle, we need to talk. We have LIVED
spiritual battle for years. The closer
Mike gets to God, the more brutal the spiritual battle is. Satan isn’t going to go away and we have
learned to spot the signs and recognize when we are about to enter into a total
crap storm. From the minute we hit the
church parking lot I could see by his face that it was beginning. It’s like a cloud comes down and he is
scowling and anxious, uncomfortable. As
if he’s expecting the entire building to come crashing down around him. I joined him in the sanctuary after I checked
Ali into her classroom.
I’ve been to many churches over the years. It always amazes me that there are some
churches you walk into and NO ONE even so much as glances at you, let alone
comes up and introduces themselves to you.
It’s pitiful. I can say without
hesitation that there hasn’t been ONE single Sunday at this church that SOMEONE
hasn’t come up and shaken our hands, welcomed us, chatted with us, prayed with
us. Simply being acknowledged is an amazing
thing. You feel like you belong. Two
years ago, during prayer time right before the message, a man two rows ahead of
us stood up and came to crouch down next to Mike.
“I don’t know you, I don’t know your name, but I feel Him
leading me to you to pray with you and over you. He’s telling me to tell you not to worry,
that things are coming that will test you to your very core and you won’t
understand the reason and you won’t understand why, but God is going to use you
and I want you to know He loves you and I want you to have peace. Can we pray together?”
THAT is this kind of church.
Today was no different, people chatted with us, we chatted
with others. Everyone knows who Mike is
because a) he’s REALLY hard to miss; b) he’s been on the church prayer roster
for over nine months now and everyone knows who the guy with the wraps on his
left leg is. An amazing church full of
people. Hearts at this church are
enormous. Our pastor has such a heart
for reaching out to Salem and Keizer’s lost and lonely. He lost a child himself 7 or 8 years ago when
his 16 year old son, Kevin, died instantly of a brain hemmorage. When we were interviewing pastors while
looking for a church (yes, we interview them.
You are looking for someone who will be responsible for ministering to
your heart and soul, you bet we have a list of questions for them and you’d be
even more surprised at how many we passed up because they were the emergent,
ecumenical, “there are more ways than one to God” kind of pastors that pushed
books by Rick Warren and thought “The Shack” was the second revelation after
the Bible. No thanks.) Pastor Randy kindly came by the house and met
with us, very simple man, but kind and direct, answered our questions, and
assured us, you won’t find popular churchianity at Salem Evangelical. You find God, you find God through His son,
and that’s that. Good enough for us.
So, we are sitting through the singing and the prayer
portion and Mike is starting to squirm.
And get VERY restless. He leans
over to me and said, “I feel like CLAWS are raking up my skin graft. I need to get out of here.” That’s all I need to hear, he struggles to
stand up and we are out the door of the sanctuary. Mike’s legs are still so weak from having
done NOTHING in the way of physically building them up the past three years and
as he stepped out into the foyer his legs begin shaking and I’m only thinking
one thing: Clear out of here, everyone,
the big man is going down and we are in for trouble.” He’s gone down on his knees on me several
times and it’s amazing how strong I suddenly become when I can catch him in
time and keep the Titanic from going completely down. Still, we are in a building of a ton of
people, Mike HATES feeling any attention on him, and I’m praying like a mad
woman that he’s just shaking them awake and he’s going to be alright. Thank God he’s alright, now let’s find a
place to sit down. There? No, chairs are too short. There? No, not yet.
We make our way to one of the entrances where there are smaller versions
of the benches we just left and he makes his way over to one and sits
down. The look on his face was, “Where
do I start? Lord, why? Why can’t I have my sight? You have taken so much away from me already,
why are you taking my sight? Why won’t
you let this warrior have his body back, the body that leapt from one second
story house to another when I was building them, to the body that hauled
glue-lams weighing 300 lbs. on my shoulders up a 12 foot ladder? The body that took charge of inmates and the
body that carried my wife over a threshold, the body that Alison fell asleep on
every night for the first eight months of her life after I’d get home from
work? You have taken it all, and yes,
granted, I asked you to use me two weeks before August 1, I get that.
Buy why now my eyes? Why does
there always have to be a battle raging around me?” I was pissed that once again, Mike had to
leave a service, feeling like the enemy won.
I knew that anything I would think of to say would be
totally useless. Sometimes the best
things a woman can say is NOTHING. I
believe we women already say way too much as it is. We need a shut-off valve like the ones on air
compressors when we don’t know how to just shut up. Just hold his hand, let him know you’re
beside him, but that quiet exchange often says more than a string of
meaningless words you utter simply to make yourself feel better, feel like YOU
are doing something, when all the words do is confuse and clutter up more. So, I held his hand, the tears start dripping
down my face, and I felt so incredibly useless.
I can’t do a thing except hold his hand and just be there.
And then he comes around the corner. God sent an angel. The angel’s name is Jeff and he’s about Mike’s
age, maybe a few years older, Hawaiian, and to look at him, he’s the picture of
health and vitality. He saw Mike’s face,
pained and anguished and searching and that was all he needed. He walked up to Mike and put his hand on Mike’s
shoulder.
“Brother, what can I do for you?”
Salem Evangelical, during services, has a constant flow of
people walking out in the hallways and foyers, watching who comes in and out,
making sure no one loiters or comes in hoping to walk around unnoticed. Jeff is
one of those people that patrols. There are a ton of kids at this church, and
they are VERY protected. It is also a
heavily armed church, and not by request of the pastor. This is done completely on a volunteer basis
of the members and they are SERIOUS about protecting our right to worship without
the threat of violence. If you come into
that building for any other reason other than to worship the living God and
fellowship with your brothers and sisters, you picked the wrong church on the
wrong day. Pastors get threats all the
time and if you don’t believe me, wow, have I got stories for you. They do, and since there are many Salem
Police and OSP Corrections officers that attend SEC, you are walking the one
building in our area on Sunday where if you charge the pulpit, IF you aren’t
crushed by the amount of bodies pig-piling on you, you’ll wind up on the end of
a bullet, because we protect our church and the pastor. Anyway, forgive that little rabbit trail I
got off on.
The angel named Jeff.
I know with all my heart that God led us right to that bench and I also
know with all my heart that Jeff was going to be led by God right past that
bench. He saw the battle going on by
looking at Mike’s face. He listened as Mike
poured it all out. Everything. The diabetes.
The nec/fac. The blindness. The knee surgeries. Everything.
How can I provide for and protect my family? Why does He take away everything I have? It’s one thing for me to tell Mike that I’m
sharing his story with literally thousands of people online and I have heard
from so many people telling me, “Reading your husband’s story has given me
strength to keep pushing through my battle.
Thank you for showing me God in his life.” All the time I hear this and THAT is what we
have asked Him to use us for—as a voice to share God’s miracles and to tell
people, “Yes, this life stinks on ice, but this life is a vapor. Let me tell you about eternity and then we
will ask you to come with us!” God is so
very good!
And then Jeff began to speak. Guess what?
He’s a diabetic. Guest what? He battles testosterone, edema (swelling
through retaining water). Your eyes are
failing you? My kidneys lost 1/3 their
function just LAST WEEK! He is going
through his grocery list of the same issues Mike is and every time he said
something, he followed up with, “Brother, I am walking this same walk with you—I
KNOW how this feels!” He prayed with
us. We rejoiced that there was another
man that could IDENTIFY with Mike, that knew the struggle, the pain, the
feeling of the entire world leaving you behind and all you have are your
ailments as your body falls apart and no one knows how afraid you truly are.
By this time, there’s nothing ladylike about me—my nose is
running and I have Niagara Falls running down my face and I look up to Mike and
WHOA, NELLY………
PEACE. Absolute peace. The tension has left his body, he’s lost that
pinched look. Relaxed. Everything
about him said, “God, I needed an angel and you sent Jeff to talk to me.” I still cannot wrap my mind around how
peaceful he looked. There was a need and
God met it. Not just with a flowery
quotation or a pat on the back. No,
someone REAL and tangible and so honest that he opened up and told us all his
body’s frailties and that was how he identified with Mike.
The phone at the greeting desk rang and he had to answer it
so he ran about 10 feet away. I looked
at Mike.
“Your angel. Jeff was
your angel.” Mike nodded. No words, just nodded with a soft smile.
Jeff returned and apologized that he had to run off but
wanted to get our number so he could follow up.
Mike walked on out to the truck and I caught Jeff coming back from the
source of the phone call. He gave me his
number and a hug and said, “You have the big man call me. We are not done talking!”
I believe the ONLY thing better than having that angel
appear to you to offer you God’s heart is when YOU are the person God chooses
to be the angel. It’s like your love
tank is just topped off. It feels so
good to minister to someone in desperate need, and today Mike was in desperate
need. How totally like God to just at
that PERFECT time send that PERFECT person to give to you exactly what you
needed. Mike needed to see God’s face
and feel God’s love, and oh, how he did in such a PERFECT way.
Just one of the uncountable reasons I love God SO much.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
The eyes.
There are days when you cruise along and even though you hit speed bumps here and there, life is still good, and then there are days when you get socked in the gut and now it's time to stop and regroup. We have had a lot of speedbumps lately. Today was the sock in the gut so I'm stopping to regroup.
Mike hadn't seen his opthamologist since some time last September or October. We were too busy with the day-to-day visits to Wound Care and things had stabilized for the time being with his eyes. Left eye is still 95% blind with a teeny little window of vision that is like looking through cheesecloth. He'd been having "bleeders" off and on this winter but finally had to get back in for an exam to see how the right eye, his "good" eye, is doing. A few weeks ago, while replacing the shocks on the Dodge, he held his breath while wrenching hard to get a bolt loose and fresh blood squirted out of the blood vessel and had been giving him problems.
A bit of history: As diabetics progress, the body starts killing off blood vessels. This robs parts of the body of needed oxygen. That is when nerves start dying off and diabetics begin having trouble with abscesses, gangrene, losing limbs, etc. In the eye, the blood vessels die off. But the eyeball tells the brain, "Hey, I'm suffocating down here, make me some blood vessels NOW!" The body complies, creating blood vessels that get the job done. But these vessels are weak. Very weak, and they burst easily. We didn't know this was occurring until his vision began to really go bad in October 2007 and he had an eye exam at Walmart, only to be told by the optometrist that his eyes were hemmoraging and glasses weren't even close to being needed, laser surgery was. We have had wonderful opthamologists that have helped Mike. Sadly, the left eye did not heal. As you shoot lasers at
them, they do die, slowly, but they emit a sticky substance to hang on in the eye fluid and as they died off, they pulled the retina off the back of his eye. The surgeon tried to reattach the retina but it didn't do well. We have to be very careful with his right eye.
Today's visit was a blow. The retina on the right eye was examined carefully. It has already begun detaching on the inside of the eye up near the sinus cavity. The surgeon doesn't want to perform
the same surgery he did on the left eye. Based on how that turned out, he told Mike there is nothing medically that can be done, other than he strongly suggested finding out some way to get Mike's sleep apnea checked out and get a cpap machine because the body is starved for oxygen and that will help prolong his right eye. In the end, however, Mike has passed point of no return and we just have to watch things carefully and be prepared. As you can imagine, this brought about a whole new set of emotions. He has been through so much already. Now to not be able to see..........he has joked for years, "it's a race between me going blind and the Rapture taking us Home." Today, we saw that race tightening up and we may very well be coming down to the wire on one or the other.
When God brought us together in 2001, I was mystified at the timing. Why now? Why not in high school? Why not 1991? I will know that answer one day, but for now, I do see Him bringing us together because He knew there would be challenges that Mike would be going through and I am to be his support. I do not grieve. I am not my mother, whining about "This isn't the man that I married!" and worrying myself into cancer, as she did. No. I squared my shoulders today and said, "Bring it." I am stronger now than I was back in 2001. I am smarter, more capable. I have courage where I had none. I have a servant's heart for my husband and I love him dearly. I only pray he has peace and can seek God's strength through this should the Lord tarry a while longer. I live under no illusions. If you think things have been wild and uncertain these last four years, you have no clue what is coming. That realization adds to my resolve and my mission is to raise a godly, loving child, encourage Katherine as she grows as a wife, and to be the best helpmeet Mike could ever hope for. God has moved paths here and there and provided for us when I didn't know how we would hold it all together. Why does He keep putting Mike through these trials? Maybe this side of heaven we will not know the full extent of how our lives have impacted others, but from the kind notes that people have messaged me with after reading entries about our journey with nec/fac, I pray that this, too, will show God's love clearly to someone needing that encouragement. Maybe this is our time to stand on the roof (however, not on this house. The roof might collapse) and show people God's power and the enemy's failures.
In his early days in the hospital last year, he was visited very often by a really darling older gentleman, Pastor Dave. He is a visiting pastor from our church, Salem Evangelical Church. His wife, Anne, is one of the most energetic, happy, positive women I've ever met. You know the story in the Bible, faith being so strong if you told a mountain to collapse into the sea it would? Anne would be the force that would CHASE that mountain into the sea. Every single week she calls to
get an update to include Mike on the church prayer list. Pastor Dave has made it a point to come visit Mike here at home and it's blessed Mike so much. His father left for good when he was six. Mike has not seen his dad in 44 years, although after some letters exchanged in the 90's, he discovered his father is a really creepy, nasty individual, athiest, White Supremacist and anti-semite. The personality cocktail from hell. He has had a succession of male friends in and out of his life.
For whatever reason, he's not had a lot of friends, but then again, he's not into lying, cheating, drinking, running around, or pretending to be stupid. An old friend from grade school and high school is more interested in getting drunk and online gambling and calls Mike a Bible thumper (which, incidentally, is a compliment to Mike). Even our old pastor has cut off all communication with him. Seems once Mike was no longer in construction he wasn't really all that interesting because he couldn't supply leftovers from job sites. He needed that pastor when he went back to work in the prisons and the door had closed. Humans will always leave you feeling empty and alone. Humans will be the first to run out on you. I am as guilty of that as anyone. I've had to mea culpa my way through a lot of things in my life. When we run out of people here, we seem to think that's it. Well's run dry. There is NO ONE for me. That is when God makes His biggest entrance. And He does it without fanfare. He is simply standing there and you see him after the crowd around you disperses. His hand is out. It was there all the time. We simply fill our lives up with too many "touchable" people that end up leaving us. We put too many people between us and God and we miss that hand that was out the whole time waiting for you to take it.
Yesterday, at Pastor Dave's urging, Mike attended a men's Bible study at the church. He'd been wanting to for a few months, but the enemy always seemed to throw a monkey wrench in the plans. Yesterday, he finally made it. While Mike was there Pastor Dave's wife, Anne, called for her weekly update. We had a lovely chat. I shared with her something God had shown me about my husband. A dad is an important part of a child's life. Mike desired that presence of a man in his life for as long as he could remember. Just a dad. We live in this world of immediate gratification and response, and he'd been seeking a father figure like that, seeking a mentor, seeking ANYONE that would give a boy direction. My uncle was the closest thing he'd really had to a dad, but life stepped in and they went their separate ways. I told Anne yesterday, Mike will have to come to a point where he sees GOD the Father as that father figure. Hebrews 11:1 tells us "faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." We have to walk in faith, as the faith heroes of the Bible did. Mike may not have his earthly dad, Mike may not have mentors that he's wanted, or those friends he could trust, but he has his Father. His Abba Father. The God that will love him like no father ever could. He created Mike.
When I was diagnosed with cancer in 2009 I was immediately fearful for my girls. How will they survive without me? God spoke to my heart and said, "I made them! I love your daughters more than you ever could because I created them, and if it is your time to come Home to Me, I will take care of them." That Hebrews 11:1 faith, when grabbed on to, shows you God's love, His all consuming, deep, abiding, protective, providing, rescuing love He has for you. Now, at a time when Mike's vision may be slowly waning and the light fades, all the people around him, except those of us immediately there, fade away an and either with vision or without, Mike will see that all along, there He was standing there, just waiting for that hand of Mike's to reach out to Him. I love my husband so much. I would willingly take anything he's gone through just to give him a day's peace. I am so proud to be his wife and so thankful to be on this journey we've been on. I don't want earthly
things to make me happy, gifts make me uncomfortable, I hate shopping, a new shirt from Goodwill nearly puts me over the edge of giddy. I have what makes me happy. But being Mike's wife, all the good, all the bad, all the funny, all the sad, it is a PRIVILEGE to walk this walk with him. Sight or no, we live our vows and that is the one thing I pray that, sight or not, he will ALWAYS see.
Mike hadn't seen his opthamologist since some time last September or October. We were too busy with the day-to-day visits to Wound Care and things had stabilized for the time being with his eyes. Left eye is still 95% blind with a teeny little window of vision that is like looking through cheesecloth. He'd been having "bleeders" off and on this winter but finally had to get back in for an exam to see how the right eye, his "good" eye, is doing. A few weeks ago, while replacing the shocks on the Dodge, he held his breath while wrenching hard to get a bolt loose and fresh blood squirted out of the blood vessel and had been giving him problems.
A bit of history: As diabetics progress, the body starts killing off blood vessels. This robs parts of the body of needed oxygen. That is when nerves start dying off and diabetics begin having trouble with abscesses, gangrene, losing limbs, etc. In the eye, the blood vessels die off. But the eyeball tells the brain, "Hey, I'm suffocating down here, make me some blood vessels NOW!" The body complies, creating blood vessels that get the job done. But these vessels are weak. Very weak, and they burst easily. We didn't know this was occurring until his vision began to really go bad in October 2007 and he had an eye exam at Walmart, only to be told by the optometrist that his eyes were hemmoraging and glasses weren't even close to being needed, laser surgery was. We have had wonderful opthamologists that have helped Mike. Sadly, the left eye did not heal. As you shoot lasers at
them, they do die, slowly, but they emit a sticky substance to hang on in the eye fluid and as they died off, they pulled the retina off the back of his eye. The surgeon tried to reattach the retina but it didn't do well. We have to be very careful with his right eye.
Today's visit was a blow. The retina on the right eye was examined carefully. It has already begun detaching on the inside of the eye up near the sinus cavity. The surgeon doesn't want to perform
the same surgery he did on the left eye. Based on how that turned out, he told Mike there is nothing medically that can be done, other than he strongly suggested finding out some way to get Mike's sleep apnea checked out and get a cpap machine because the body is starved for oxygen and that will help prolong his right eye. In the end, however, Mike has passed point of no return and we just have to watch things carefully and be prepared. As you can imagine, this brought about a whole new set of emotions. He has been through so much already. Now to not be able to see..........he has joked for years, "it's a race between me going blind and the Rapture taking us Home." Today, we saw that race tightening up and we may very well be coming down to the wire on one or the other.
When God brought us together in 2001, I was mystified at the timing. Why now? Why not in high school? Why not 1991? I will know that answer one day, but for now, I do see Him bringing us together because He knew there would be challenges that Mike would be going through and I am to be his support. I do not grieve. I am not my mother, whining about "This isn't the man that I married!" and worrying myself into cancer, as she did. No. I squared my shoulders today and said, "Bring it." I am stronger now than I was back in 2001. I am smarter, more capable. I have courage where I had none. I have a servant's heart for my husband and I love him dearly. I only pray he has peace and can seek God's strength through this should the Lord tarry a while longer. I live under no illusions. If you think things have been wild and uncertain these last four years, you have no clue what is coming. That realization adds to my resolve and my mission is to raise a godly, loving child, encourage Katherine as she grows as a wife, and to be the best helpmeet Mike could ever hope for. God has moved paths here and there and provided for us when I didn't know how we would hold it all together. Why does He keep putting Mike through these trials? Maybe this side of heaven we will not know the full extent of how our lives have impacted others, but from the kind notes that people have messaged me with after reading entries about our journey with nec/fac, I pray that this, too, will show God's love clearly to someone needing that encouragement. Maybe this is our time to stand on the roof (however, not on this house. The roof might collapse) and show people God's power and the enemy's failures.
In his early days in the hospital last year, he was visited very often by a really darling older gentleman, Pastor Dave. He is a visiting pastor from our church, Salem Evangelical Church. His wife, Anne, is one of the most energetic, happy, positive women I've ever met. You know the story in the Bible, faith being so strong if you told a mountain to collapse into the sea it would? Anne would be the force that would CHASE that mountain into the sea. Every single week she calls to
get an update to include Mike on the church prayer list. Pastor Dave has made it a point to come visit Mike here at home and it's blessed Mike so much. His father left for good when he was six. Mike has not seen his dad in 44 years, although after some letters exchanged in the 90's, he discovered his father is a really creepy, nasty individual, athiest, White Supremacist and anti-semite. The personality cocktail from hell. He has had a succession of male friends in and out of his life.
For whatever reason, he's not had a lot of friends, but then again, he's not into lying, cheating, drinking, running around, or pretending to be stupid. An old friend from grade school and high school is more interested in getting drunk and online gambling and calls Mike a Bible thumper (which, incidentally, is a compliment to Mike). Even our old pastor has cut off all communication with him. Seems once Mike was no longer in construction he wasn't really all that interesting because he couldn't supply leftovers from job sites. He needed that pastor when he went back to work in the prisons and the door had closed. Humans will always leave you feeling empty and alone. Humans will be the first to run out on you. I am as guilty of that as anyone. I've had to mea culpa my way through a lot of things in my life. When we run out of people here, we seem to think that's it. Well's run dry. There is NO ONE for me. That is when God makes His biggest entrance. And He does it without fanfare. He is simply standing there and you see him after the crowd around you disperses. His hand is out. It was there all the time. We simply fill our lives up with too many "touchable" people that end up leaving us. We put too many people between us and God and we miss that hand that was out the whole time waiting for you to take it.
Yesterday, at Pastor Dave's urging, Mike attended a men's Bible study at the church. He'd been wanting to for a few months, but the enemy always seemed to throw a monkey wrench in the plans. Yesterday, he finally made it. While Mike was there Pastor Dave's wife, Anne, called for her weekly update. We had a lovely chat. I shared with her something God had shown me about my husband. A dad is an important part of a child's life. Mike desired that presence of a man in his life for as long as he could remember. Just a dad. We live in this world of immediate gratification and response, and he'd been seeking a father figure like that, seeking a mentor, seeking ANYONE that would give a boy direction. My uncle was the closest thing he'd really had to a dad, but life stepped in and they went their separate ways. I told Anne yesterday, Mike will have to come to a point where he sees GOD the Father as that father figure. Hebrews 11:1 tells us "faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." We have to walk in faith, as the faith heroes of the Bible did. Mike may not have his earthly dad, Mike may not have mentors that he's wanted, or those friends he could trust, but he has his Father. His Abba Father. The God that will love him like no father ever could. He created Mike.
When I was diagnosed with cancer in 2009 I was immediately fearful for my girls. How will they survive without me? God spoke to my heart and said, "I made them! I love your daughters more than you ever could because I created them, and if it is your time to come Home to Me, I will take care of them." That Hebrews 11:1 faith, when grabbed on to, shows you God's love, His all consuming, deep, abiding, protective, providing, rescuing love He has for you. Now, at a time when Mike's vision may be slowly waning and the light fades, all the people around him, except those of us immediately there, fade away an and either with vision or without, Mike will see that all along, there He was standing there, just waiting for that hand of Mike's to reach out to Him. I love my husband so much. I would willingly take anything he's gone through just to give him a day's peace. I am so proud to be his wife and so thankful to be on this journey we've been on. I don't want earthly
things to make me happy, gifts make me uncomfortable, I hate shopping, a new shirt from Goodwill nearly puts me over the edge of giddy. I have what makes me happy. But being Mike's wife, all the good, all the bad, all the funny, all the sad, it is a PRIVILEGE to walk this walk with him. Sight or no, we live our vows and that is the one thing I pray that, sight or not, he will ALWAYS see.
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Is that light the end of the tunnel?
This was taken today at Wound Care.
There are only three very small places left on the top of the foot. Just about the ONLY place there is swelling anymore is the toes and the front half of the foot. The graft site seems to be expanding to fit more of the contour of the leg. He's been doing a lot of walking and the muscle is no longer so atrophied, but building. The seams of the graft are just beautiful and completely healed. The variations in color are mellowing out and it's looking more normal. The girls aren't taking any chances, though, and are strictly sticking to protocol to get these last few places totally healed up. Again, the slow spot seems to be over the tendon on top that seemed to take longer than any other area to cover with granulation. Because of all the time he's spent lying down with the foot elevated, he has done a lot of flexing and rolling his ankle so it doesn't become stiff and any more arthritic than it is. He has a very good range of motion in the ankle, the nurses were quite but to get the top large spot completely healed, he needs to lay off that for a little bit. No signs anywhere of problems or infection. What used to take nearly an hour to accomplish in a visit now can be done in 20 minutes or less. As of Thursday he has been off all prescription pain meds completely for two weeks and is not going back, no small feat considering the months that Dilaudid flowed through him in large amounts.
I have remarked many times that this has been as difficult mentally and emotionally as it has been physically. It was important to him to get off the pain meds. His father was a narcotic pill popper and he's done everything he can to not be anything like his family. There hasn't been alcohol for over 10 years anywhere near him, and to have had the pain pills this long bothered him. He did go through withdrawal, but focused on what he was accomplishing instead of berating himself that "I'm no better than my father." To him this was a very personal challenge for that reason, but it also meant closing the door on one more aspect related to this battle with nec/fac. He had an appointment with his regular doctor today and instead of the milk chocolate he's been eating to help with the withdrawal, the doctor instead said he'd rather it be dark chocolate for several reasons. It won't mess so much with his blood sugar, lots of antioxidants, and because of the sharpness of the taste you're less likely to eat as much of it. Duly noted, getting some tomorrow.
I showed the doctor the photo below and he was blown away by how well Mike has healed. "To have gone through what you've gone through, being almost 50 and Type 1 diabetic since 1988, once we get this testosterone back up, you will be like a kid again." He was very proud of how well Mike's done.
However, the visit today was not entirely a happy one. In December 2011 he was found to have VERY low testosterone. We were doing injections every three weeks up until August 1 when this all started. He was doing better and after the nec/fac, his doctor took him off all of the testosterone. This has obviously been a physically difficult time but the last blood test a week ago revealed that his testosterone was now in very dangerously low levels. With the pain meds gone, I now can see the effects of low T on a man and it's heartbreaking. Depression. Lack of initiative. Exhaustion. Weight gain. But the doc wasn't willing to prescribe anything until he'd done a prostate exam.
Do not think for a minute that I didn't run with this. Because I did. :o) After years of heading off to an annual exam and hearing, "Smile big!" for the mammogram and all sorts of lewd remarks about the exam table and stirrups, karma came back to bite him square on the behind. And I had fun with it. Ali and I left the exam room after the initial checkup and on the way out the door, I called to Dr. Kuzma, "Be gentle with him. And give him a 15 second cuddle when you're done." Karma. They both blushed.
So, the plethora of meds are gone, now it's only insulin, diuretic, potassium, and the testosterone cream. I marvel at how each piece has fallen in place and it only happened because we followed every instruction to the letter and looked to God for everything. We have lived in such a state of panic and urgency for so long that we now both agree on one thing: Boring is GOOD.
There are only three very small places left on the top of the foot. Just about the ONLY place there is swelling anymore is the toes and the front half of the foot. The graft site seems to be expanding to fit more of the contour of the leg. He's been doing a lot of walking and the muscle is no longer so atrophied, but building. The seams of the graft are just beautiful and completely healed. The variations in color are mellowing out and it's looking more normal. The girls aren't taking any chances, though, and are strictly sticking to protocol to get these last few places totally healed up. Again, the slow spot seems to be over the tendon on top that seemed to take longer than any other area to cover with granulation. Because of all the time he's spent lying down with the foot elevated, he has done a lot of flexing and rolling his ankle so it doesn't become stiff and any more arthritic than it is. He has a very good range of motion in the ankle, the nurses were quite but to get the top large spot completely healed, he needs to lay off that for a little bit. No signs anywhere of problems or infection. What used to take nearly an hour to accomplish in a visit now can be done in 20 minutes or less. As of Thursday he has been off all prescription pain meds completely for two weeks and is not going back, no small feat considering the months that Dilaudid flowed through him in large amounts.
I have remarked many times that this has been as difficult mentally and emotionally as it has been physically. It was important to him to get off the pain meds. His father was a narcotic pill popper and he's done everything he can to not be anything like his family. There hasn't been alcohol for over 10 years anywhere near him, and to have had the pain pills this long bothered him. He did go through withdrawal, but focused on what he was accomplishing instead of berating himself that "I'm no better than my father." To him this was a very personal challenge for that reason, but it also meant closing the door on one more aspect related to this battle with nec/fac. He had an appointment with his regular doctor today and instead of the milk chocolate he's been eating to help with the withdrawal, the doctor instead said he'd rather it be dark chocolate for several reasons. It won't mess so much with his blood sugar, lots of antioxidants, and because of the sharpness of the taste you're less likely to eat as much of it. Duly noted, getting some tomorrow.
I showed the doctor the photo below and he was blown away by how well Mike has healed. "To have gone through what you've gone through, being almost 50 and Type 1 diabetic since 1988, once we get this testosterone back up, you will be like a kid again." He was very proud of how well Mike's done.
However, the visit today was not entirely a happy one. In December 2011 he was found to have VERY low testosterone. We were doing injections every three weeks up until August 1 when this all started. He was doing better and after the nec/fac, his doctor took him off all of the testosterone. This has obviously been a physically difficult time but the last blood test a week ago revealed that his testosterone was now in very dangerously low levels. With the pain meds gone, I now can see the effects of low T on a man and it's heartbreaking. Depression. Lack of initiative. Exhaustion. Weight gain. But the doc wasn't willing to prescribe anything until he'd done a prostate exam.
Do not think for a minute that I didn't run with this. Because I did. :o) After years of heading off to an annual exam and hearing, "Smile big!" for the mammogram and all sorts of lewd remarks about the exam table and stirrups, karma came back to bite him square on the behind. And I had fun with it. Ali and I left the exam room after the initial checkup and on the way out the door, I called to Dr. Kuzma, "Be gentle with him. And give him a 15 second cuddle when you're done." Karma. They both blushed.
So, the plethora of meds are gone, now it's only insulin, diuretic, potassium, and the testosterone cream. I marvel at how each piece has fallen in place and it only happened because we followed every instruction to the letter and looked to God for everything. We have lived in such a state of panic and urgency for so long that we now both agree on one thing: Boring is GOOD.
Friday, March 1, 2013
Sequestration, and the assorted and assundry bullshit that goes with it
The country has been running without a budget for five years now. That fact is illegal in itself. It's a violation of the Constitution and the law of the land. So say government spending is to go up 15% over last year. What sequester means is that instead of the government's budget going up 15% this year, spending is only going to go up 12%. Sequester is going to cost His Holiness 3%. Last year we spent 10% more than we did the year before. So, in reality, sequester means we are only going to spend 2% more this year than last year. This in no way is budget cuts. This is no way the drastic doomsday scenario being touted by the White House and the Senate (Dems led by the brain dead Harry Reid). Government spending is STILL going to go up 2.45% over last year's spending amount. There is NO cutting in spending going on. This is smoke and mirrors and lies. When he posed with the cops and the firefighters and the first responders to tell his bullshit and blame the Republicans, none of those guys are going to lose their jobs. ZERO. Why? First responders and firefighters and policemen are paid by municipalities and county budgets, otherwise known as local spending, not federal spending. The teachers in West Virginia that were supposedly already losing their jobs due to sequestration were already being transferred to different schools. So, TECHNICALLY, if you want to split pubic hairs over this, those teachers are no longer going to be working at the schools they're being transferred from. That isn't because of the federal government. That's because of reallocation by their school districts.
As for ICE and the crap they pulled this last weekend, releasing approximately 3,500 criminal illegal aliens into the communities for things such as rape, murder, robbery, home invasion and general assiness, according to Jan the Man, these weren't the REALLY bad, bad guys. How stupid does that dyke think we are as to believe that sequestration has things so dire that illegal alien criminals have to be dumped on the streets because we couldn't afford to keep them? All they accomplished was running up overtime against ICE and didn't deport a single one. But they did make them sign a paper and promise to come back for deportation hearings. And aren't we relieved to know that these criminal illegals will be honest enough to do that? All His Holiness achieved by allowing them to be released was to guarantee that somewhere in this country, an innocent legal American citizen is going to be raped, robbed, murdered, or have their home broken into in a home invasion by AN ILLEGAL ALIEN LIFELONG CRIMINAL.
In answer to Diane Feinstein, THAT is why we need assault weapons with 30 round magazines because Mike doesn't see as good as he used to or shoot as straight as he used to and God forbid one would get away after kicking in our front door because Jan the Man cut loose 3,500 criminal illegal aliens to scare us with sequestration. Not only that, they spent more on overtime than they saved getting rid of them.
January 1, Obama got his $650B in new taxes, yet he refused to negotiate in good faith spending cuts that he agreed to get that "increased revenue", that "fair share", that "punishment for success". So now His Holiness refuses to do anything about sequestration unless he gets MORE tax increases. He wants to protect the middle class? He wants to make the middle class go the way of the dodo bird and other extinct animals.
So say what you will about Republicans, at least they held tight and said, "Oh, hell no, you don't get tax increases in the middle of this mess. And as John Boehner said to the Senate, they have already passed two appropriations bills with large spending cuts and NO tax increases. But Harry Reid refuses to allow them to be read on the Senate floor, prompting Mr. Boehner to say, "Get off your asses and do your job (and I quote him word for word)." I think Harry and the boys need to get their heads out of their asses and realize that the American people, thanks to Bob Woodward and Fox News and Drudge and Breitbart have shined the light on the schemes of the little cockroaches currently infesting 1600 Pennsylvania and the Senate.
Don't get me wrong, Republicans need to share plenty of blame on this, too, but at least they're attempting to do SOMETHING, Keystone Coppish as it may be, it's better than going home for the weekend to watch this happen and then listen to all the idiots on the big three with their political talk shows trying to paint His Holiness in a courageous light. He has no great plan. He has no brilliant scheme. The guy has NO idea what he's doing. He thinks he can just campaign his way through the next four years, selling access to himself in the White House for $500,000 per person to have a "meet and greet" and tell him what you think the government should give YOU.
You suppose if we put the Constitution on a teleprompter that the jackass (that is HIS party's emblem) would read it? That is, after all, the only way he can give a speech.
As for ICE and the crap they pulled this last weekend, releasing approximately 3,500 criminal illegal aliens into the communities for things such as rape, murder, robbery, home invasion and general assiness, according to Jan the Man, these weren't the REALLY bad, bad guys. How stupid does that dyke think we are as to believe that sequestration has things so dire that illegal alien criminals have to be dumped on the streets because we couldn't afford to keep them? All they accomplished was running up overtime against ICE and didn't deport a single one. But they did make them sign a paper and promise to come back for deportation hearings. And aren't we relieved to know that these criminal illegals will be honest enough to do that? All His Holiness achieved by allowing them to be released was to guarantee that somewhere in this country, an innocent legal American citizen is going to be raped, robbed, murdered, or have their home broken into in a home invasion by AN ILLEGAL ALIEN LIFELONG CRIMINAL.
In answer to Diane Feinstein, THAT is why we need assault weapons with 30 round magazines because Mike doesn't see as good as he used to or shoot as straight as he used to and God forbid one would get away after kicking in our front door because Jan the Man cut loose 3,500 criminal illegal aliens to scare us with sequestration. Not only that, they spent more on overtime than they saved getting rid of them.
January 1, Obama got his $650B in new taxes, yet he refused to negotiate in good faith spending cuts that he agreed to get that "increased revenue", that "fair share", that "punishment for success". So now His Holiness refuses to do anything about sequestration unless he gets MORE tax increases. He wants to protect the middle class? He wants to make the middle class go the way of the dodo bird and other extinct animals.
So say what you will about Republicans, at least they held tight and said, "Oh, hell no, you don't get tax increases in the middle of this mess. And as John Boehner said to the Senate, they have already passed two appropriations bills with large spending cuts and NO tax increases. But Harry Reid refuses to allow them to be read on the Senate floor, prompting Mr. Boehner to say, "Get off your asses and do your job (and I quote him word for word)." I think Harry and the boys need to get their heads out of their asses and realize that the American people, thanks to Bob Woodward and Fox News and Drudge and Breitbart have shined the light on the schemes of the little cockroaches currently infesting 1600 Pennsylvania and the Senate.
Don't get me wrong, Republicans need to share plenty of blame on this, too, but at least they're attempting to do SOMETHING, Keystone Coppish as it may be, it's better than going home for the weekend to watch this happen and then listen to all the idiots on the big three with their political talk shows trying to paint His Holiness in a courageous light. He has no great plan. He has no brilliant scheme. The guy has NO idea what he's doing. He thinks he can just campaign his way through the next four years, selling access to himself in the White House for $500,000 per person to have a "meet and greet" and tell him what you think the government should give YOU.
You suppose if we put the Constitution on a teleprompter that the jackass (that is HIS party's emblem) would read it? That is, after all, the only way he can give a speech.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
A Mother's Love
I never knew true love, exhaustion, excitement, heartbreak, joy, confusion, sadness, or gratitude on a monumental scale until I became a mother. I don't know why it is, but even when your children defy your authority, ignore your request, smother you with love, obey your rules, or throw you under the bus, you still love them and would walk through a hail of bullets for them, even when they think you won't. Mike had a rough night last night and it was apparent I wasn't going to sleep anytime soon, so I finally got up at 3:30 to make a cup of cocoa. I've been working my way through four seasons of Downton Abbey online and sat down to finish the episode I'd stopped when I went to bed. I love Cora, the mother of Mary, Edith, and Sybil. She reminds me of myself when I've watched my girls growing and learning, accomplishing life goals and becoming young ladies in their own right.
So I sat in the dark in the kitchen, at the table, all the lights in the house out, drinking my hot cocoa, watching the episode where Sybil gives birth. Sometimes in shows or movies, you can gather clues throughout the story or the episode that clue you in on something coming around the bend. I was not prepared for Sybil to die after giving birth, but she did die, with her entire family in the room witnessing it. Cora's fear and grief were so PALPABLE. Clutching Sybil's hand and crying desperately for her baby. So raw and deep and aching and I absolutely sobbed. Not because I was caught up in the story, but I was seeing a "mother" facing the unspeakable horror: Losing a child. It didn't matter that I was watching an actress portray the emotion. It made me face that in my own mind. I pray that nightmare never comes to visit at my door, but we mothers play that over in our minds. What would we do? Would we collapse, or stoically set our jaw and soldier on despite the grief? I have had friends who lost a child and my thought was, "There but for the grace of God go I."
Back in the early 90's I read Elizabeth Glaser's book about contracting HIV through a tainted blood transfusion when giving birth to her daughter, Ariel, who died very young from AIDS, and then Elizabeth followed several years later. I was no where NEAR as strong as my walk with the Lord as I am now, and the book terrified me. Katherine was two or three years old at the time and I was absolutely delighting in my darling little girl, so petite and beautiful and funny. The thought of losing her then was paralyzing, but I have learned so much about faith in God and knowing to trust Him with my girls. When I was given a diagnosis of cancer four years ago, my first thought was, "What about my girls?" The Lord spoke to my heart and showed me, "I created them, I knew about them before you did, and I placed them in your womb. I love them so much more than you ever can because My love is that of having created them. Do not fear for them if you come Home to Me because I am there to walk them through life when you can't." Opening up my hands and letting the reigns go to Him was freeing and peaceful, yet seeing Cora in her raw grief reminded me of how deep and consuming a mother's heart really is.
I think about the rough and rocky roads I've traveled with Katherine, there's a lot of pain there, on both sides, and a lot of laughter and joy. No one can break your heart like a child, and no one can mend a broken heart like a child. I'm watching her work her way through life, growing as a wife, leaving the Navy behind, embarking on whatever future she goes after. For an admitted control freak, I have made my mistakes when I tried to step in and go, "You did what? You dyed your hair pink and you're getting out of the Navy and going to be looking for a job WITH PINK HAIR and a nose stud??" I have had to learn to walk that fine line between wanting to offer advice (let's face it, not offering advice but trying to impose MY blueprints for her life on her) and standing back with folded hands and quiet lips and let her make the mistakes you KNOW are coming, yet you promise yourself to stifle those words that may come back to bit you on the butt: "I told you so." This period of my life with her is like being the Mars rover: A lot of people watching this strange little vehicle bouncing along over rocks and sand and seeing things that make you go, "Wow," and then victory! There's an unexpected photo of some amazing area on the planet and you surprised everyone, most of all yourself. I have learned to put all my fears and worries and hopes in my cupped hands, and then raise those hands to Him with the words, "Here you go, Father. She's yours and I love you and I love her and I only ask that you make sure she sees how much I truly do love her and I'm not her enemy. God, just keep us safe. Please show her that unconditional love means she must do NOTHING in order for me to love her, but unconditional love does NOT mean unconditional acceptance of everything she does or every decision she makes."
If Cora were a real woman, and I could actually speak to her, my words would be this: "It's going to be alright. Take my hand and we will cry together, but everything will turn out alright, and maybe I'll come back with another cup of cocoa tonight to watch as you walk through this fire and come out the other side, still able to breathe, function, and still be a mother."
So I sat in the dark in the kitchen, at the table, all the lights in the house out, drinking my hot cocoa, watching the episode where Sybil gives birth. Sometimes in shows or movies, you can gather clues throughout the story or the episode that clue you in on something coming around the bend. I was not prepared for Sybil to die after giving birth, but she did die, with her entire family in the room witnessing it. Cora's fear and grief were so PALPABLE. Clutching Sybil's hand and crying desperately for her baby. So raw and deep and aching and I absolutely sobbed. Not because I was caught up in the story, but I was seeing a "mother" facing the unspeakable horror: Losing a child. It didn't matter that I was watching an actress portray the emotion. It made me face that in my own mind. I pray that nightmare never comes to visit at my door, but we mothers play that over in our minds. What would we do? Would we collapse, or stoically set our jaw and soldier on despite the grief? I have had friends who lost a child and my thought was, "There but for the grace of God go I."
Back in the early 90's I read Elizabeth Glaser's book about contracting HIV through a tainted blood transfusion when giving birth to her daughter, Ariel, who died very young from AIDS, and then Elizabeth followed several years later. I was no where NEAR as strong as my walk with the Lord as I am now, and the book terrified me. Katherine was two or three years old at the time and I was absolutely delighting in my darling little girl, so petite and beautiful and funny. The thought of losing her then was paralyzing, but I have learned so much about faith in God and knowing to trust Him with my girls. When I was given a diagnosis of cancer four years ago, my first thought was, "What about my girls?" The Lord spoke to my heart and showed me, "I created them, I knew about them before you did, and I placed them in your womb. I love them so much more than you ever can because My love is that of having created them. Do not fear for them if you come Home to Me because I am there to walk them through life when you can't." Opening up my hands and letting the reigns go to Him was freeing and peaceful, yet seeing Cora in her raw grief reminded me of how deep and consuming a mother's heart really is.
I think about the rough and rocky roads I've traveled with Katherine, there's a lot of pain there, on both sides, and a lot of laughter and joy. No one can break your heart like a child, and no one can mend a broken heart like a child. I'm watching her work her way through life, growing as a wife, leaving the Navy behind, embarking on whatever future she goes after. For an admitted control freak, I have made my mistakes when I tried to step in and go, "You did what? You dyed your hair pink and you're getting out of the Navy and going to be looking for a job WITH PINK HAIR and a nose stud??" I have had to learn to walk that fine line between wanting to offer advice (let's face it, not offering advice but trying to impose MY blueprints for her life on her) and standing back with folded hands and quiet lips and let her make the mistakes you KNOW are coming, yet you promise yourself to stifle those words that may come back to bit you on the butt: "I told you so." This period of my life with her is like being the Mars rover: A lot of people watching this strange little vehicle bouncing along over rocks and sand and seeing things that make you go, "Wow," and then victory! There's an unexpected photo of some amazing area on the planet and you surprised everyone, most of all yourself. I have learned to put all my fears and worries and hopes in my cupped hands, and then raise those hands to Him with the words, "Here you go, Father. She's yours and I love you and I love her and I only ask that you make sure she sees how much I truly do love her and I'm not her enemy. God, just keep us safe. Please show her that unconditional love means she must do NOTHING in order for me to love her, but unconditional love does NOT mean unconditional acceptance of everything she does or every decision she makes."
If Cora were a real woman, and I could actually speak to her, my words would be this: "It's going to be alright. Take my hand and we will cry together, but everything will turn out alright, and maybe I'll come back with another cup of cocoa tonight to watch as you walk through this fire and come out the other side, still able to breathe, function, and still be a mother."
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Downton Abbey
In one week I've worked my way through nearly two seasons of Downton Abbey and I have the following observations:
1. I do not believe there is ANY country in the world whose people have the most amazing talent and ability to completely ignore the elephant standing in the room. They can be so blissfully ignorant by their own choosing. The word obtuse was created for the British, I do believe.
2. God help their teeth.
3. PRUDES. The act of courtship is comical. "I'll walk the foggy bottoms with you and we shall stand 18 inches apart and you must laugh at my weak jokes and I'll hide my bad teeth and flirt with you and you can cluck your little giggle and cover your face shyly and laugh at my impossibly bad jokes, and after we've known each other for three weeks and our political views are examined and we can both agree on everything, I think we need to be engaged and I'd very much like to have a drink with your father in the study and discuss this transaction with him. Pip pip. Hmmmm, yes..."
4. The Brits can have entire conversations WITHOUT moving their lips an iota.
5. The word "ghastly" is way overused. As is "jolly". It's just, well, jolly ghastly, the overuse.
6. Someone please, PLEASE send some dentists over there.
7. A bottle of brandy and an old British woman is funnier than anything we can come up with.
8. These people must consume enormous quantitioes of starch because they are so U.P.T.I.G.H.T. And obtuse. I love that word. I want to believe that Lord Grantham is one to find an empty hall and cut loose with a silent but violent fart and then race to the nearest empty room and stiffle his laughter as someone walks through the cloud. You just don't see them doing the "pull my finger".
9. Where else other than the English countryside will you find a group of people get apopleptic over riding a bunch of horses side saddle to chase a bunch of hyperactive beagles, barking and baying, then spending the evening toasting the day.
10. Now I know why we left England to come over here. Bless their hearts.
1. I do not believe there is ANY country in the world whose people have the most amazing talent and ability to completely ignore the elephant standing in the room. They can be so blissfully ignorant by their own choosing. The word obtuse was created for the British, I do believe.
2. God help their teeth.
3. PRUDES. The act of courtship is comical. "I'll walk the foggy bottoms with you and we shall stand 18 inches apart and you must laugh at my weak jokes and I'll hide my bad teeth and flirt with you and you can cluck your little giggle and cover your face shyly and laugh at my impossibly bad jokes, and after we've known each other for three weeks and our political views are examined and we can both agree on everything, I think we need to be engaged and I'd very much like to have a drink with your father in the study and discuss this transaction with him. Pip pip. Hmmmm, yes..."
4. The Brits can have entire conversations WITHOUT moving their lips an iota.
5. The word "ghastly" is way overused. As is "jolly". It's just, well, jolly ghastly, the overuse.
6. Someone please, PLEASE send some dentists over there.
7. A bottle of brandy and an old British woman is funnier than anything we can come up with.
8. These people must consume enormous quantitioes of starch because they are so U.P.T.I.G.H.T. And obtuse. I love that word. I want to believe that Lord Grantham is one to find an empty hall and cut loose with a silent but violent fart and then race to the nearest empty room and stiffle his laughter as someone walks through the cloud. You just don't see them doing the "pull my finger".
9. Where else other than the English countryside will you find a group of people get apopleptic over riding a bunch of horses side saddle to chase a bunch of hyperactive beagles, barking and baying, then spending the evening toasting the day.
10. Now I know why we left England to come over here. Bless their hearts.
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