Twas the morn of endo

Twas the morning of endo

And all through the house

Not a creature was stirring

Not even a louse.

The kind buried deep inside

The caverns of thy bowel

Who knows what’s it’s name

To be extricated via trowel.

I digress to my gardening

Terms instead of “incision”

For to bear more pain, discomfort

Is not something I can envision.

So to sleep, aye to dream

Via chemistry or exhaustion lo

We soon will have answers

Perhaps by time of ho, ho, ho!

Will this be a blessing

In disguise as gone before

Suffering giving birth to hope

We shall pray as inside goes the scope.

For H. Pylori messes the axis

Of the gut with the brain

And causes problems like mine:

Seizures on top of stomach pain.

Could this be the work of the Lord,

The prayers at once coming true?

Oh heck at least the deep snooze

Will be sweet on this Tues.

Will you still love me tomorrow?

The question we simply don’t need to ask.

The question that I simply don’t need to ask again, yet have wasted too many moments wondering, is the one posed in this song by the Shirelles.  Oh and Dionne Warwick.  And maybe Amy Winehouse too.  Such a classic song!

Each time I wind up in the Emergency Room, I wonder if my beloved will still love me the next day.  This morning he referred to yesterday evening as “another date night!”  Unbelievable.  All this love continues after about 16 trips to the ER in the past 7 years.  I am humbled and blessed beyond measure.

This blessing is hard to see sometimes when my body is breaking down in a new way once again.  Looks like an ulcer in the lower part of my stomach is the reason for a month of abdominal pain.  Over-the-counter and walk-in clinic medications did not solve the problem.  So after a CT scan under the influence of anti-allergy drugs and some more potent medication, I am in less pain . . . but oh so worn out.  I’ll see a gastroenterologist this coming week with an endoscopy likely to follow.  Going to try to keep my stress level low in the meantime.  I mean I don’t have any other of the risk factors that contribute to an ulcer (e.g. spicy foods, caffeine, alcohol) unless of course there’s a hidden H. pylori infection.  So more testing is needed to figure this one out.

The other “love” that could be easy to question is that of my Heavenly Father.  But I don’t.  I look around and see tremendous blessings in my life in that I have a warm home in which to convalesce, enough food and clothing, and finances for the important stuff.  My beloved is faithful and loving like “Jesus with skin on.”  What I don’t understand is how these illnesses isolate me from friends and family outside of our home and most notably, my husband’s adult children. 

My extreme sensitivities continue and are triggered by the fragrant products they (and many folks) tend to use.  We are just not sure how to manage this reactivity with our Christmas gatherings rapidly approaching.  We already had to decline having both daughters stay with us (which was a delight to host them in years gone by).  A trial of having his oldest stay with us for about a week 2 months ago, despite extreme precautions, triggered a violent relapse in the convulsive episodes.  I am now sensitized to even trace amounts of fragrance on her coat that was kept in a suitcase in our garage in between scheduled visits.  Then I had a seizure spike 2 days ago when she returned from some travels to pick up her suitcase . . .

My heart is breaking from more than the loss of acquaintances and friendships:  my relationships with my husband’s children never really got going.  Steve and I have been married for 11 years and I got sick just 4 years into our marriage.  I have been battling a serious illness for most of our marriage!  You could say that my limited visits with his adult children gave them more time to adjust to the fact that their father is remarried.  Well, o.k. maybe that’s it.  I already sensed that I needed to lie low during their visits in the beginning anyways, focusing on serving them good food and comforts and not speaking up too much nor complaining when their Dad jumped to see them, rescue them when the trials of young adulthood came along.  No problem.  Fix the car?  Pick them up at the bus stop?  Join them at church?  I just had to stay home due to illness factors and couldn’t go with their Dad to help them, that’s all.

They don’t really know me either though.  We profess the courteous “love” greetings yet would I ever really see them again if something happened to their Dad?  Oh dear, I should not even go there.  I now realize that this barrier between us is completely out of my hands.  Remember when I sent along baked goods with Steve for when he visited his family in Arkansas without me 2 weeks ago?  Yes, I need to rest in the hope that what I could do has been done as unto the Lord.   My Jesus and my beloved know my heart.  They hold together the parts in me that are breaking and the inner tears.  And the Lord also holds me in tender moments like these right now.

I need to know that your love.  Is a love I can be sure of.  So tell me know so I won’t ask again.  Will you still love me tomorrow?

Yes, for sure.  JJ

Jeremiah, 31:3, everlasting, love, doubting, Christ's, Lord's, faithfulness,what He thinks of me, endurance, love through the trials

In a far-off land the LORD will manifest himself to them. He will say to them, ‘I have loved you with an everlasting love. That is why I have continued to be faithful to you.’

It’s just not the same thing

good, bad, perspective, Christian, surrender, letting go, in Christ

Dinner out with family celebrating from 3 states or an Asian wrap alone at the messy table where you finally were allowed to finish your holiday activities with some kids . . .

A rental car authorized by your insurance company while the truck gets repaired from the deer or a silver beast machine that at least doesn’t reek like a fleabag hotel . . .

An upset stomach that lingered for weeks or a working diagnosis of a peptic ulcer that reveals that the stress was more than just a little of late . . .

A cold sore that just happens from time to time or a flare of wretched shingles caught in the beginning stages, THANK GOD . . .

The stuff of life making a rough landing all at the same time or a financial train wreck in the making as Christmas gift-giving rapidly approaches . . .

Tears of frustration from “not good enough” criticism in a new editing role giving way to compliments from out of no where just 3 months later . . .

Doubts of your acceptance in community volunteer roles with new folks who don’t know your history to appreciation for being part of the team . . .

Missing my husband dearly as he is away travelling to the non-starter reunion when having to practice extreme mold avoidance still . . .

Tears of grief from so very much loss shaking my fragile frame to the bone to a slow recovery days later with a few convulsive spikes here and there . . .

Powerlessness to minister to my brother who suffers post-stroke much greater than I to finally figuring out something I can send him to really help . . .

I really could go on.  It’s just not the same thing when things really do go from bad to worse and you wish you had not feared for the worst because things can really go either way . . . and sometimes they actually go better than expected.  It’s all a matter of perspective in the end, right?  Ugh.  Clearly I am witnessing both phenomenon.  Really makes for uncertain living, I tell ya.

So what shall I do?  To stay in the moment as best I can is what I shall do.  Nap when I can’t concentrate anymore.  Pet the pup for more than a moment ’cause she likes it too.  Do something nice for my beloved Steve.  Move my Bible to that more secluded spot where I can spend time with the Lord without as many distractions.  Dwell and pray, pray and dwell in the presence of my Heavenly Father Who can lift my spirits above that which troubles me each day.  I have given myself over to worldly worries and it is not the same thing as giving it all over to Him.  I surrender.  I don’t know what got broken that I landed here but at least this one I do know how to fix.  Lord willing, things will get better!  JJ

A Well Worn Path

If you travel the same way and expect different results they say it is the definition of insanity.  I get that so I resist the same.

If your baseline shifts and you take the same precautions against a disastrous outcome, you might say you are taking a chance that you might get different results.  I usually control the factors I can and go with the new direction . . . when amnesia sets in from the last failed effort and something new looks promising.

If you smash into a devastating blow anyways and have to retreat to combat the devastation, you might say that you were more rolling the dice than making a reasonable plan for success.

If you add too many factors in any plan, precaution, retreat and come up against a surprise attack from an unforeseen foe then you won’t know what hit either one of you until the smoke clears along with your heads.  Me:  hours of violent convulsive episodes and the aftermath.  Him:  heartache, exhaustion, and no peace.

And if you are me in the latter years of battling a complex illness, you live in shock from the blows of what hit you in the last 24 hours when it is after 6 days of relatively few symptoms.  The new treatments did look promising.  They did not hold off the onslaught, however.  And you paid one of the highest prices once again this side of heaven.

And if you are the beloved husband trying to navigate these landmines, help fight the war while carrying on with the normal and fun activities of life . . . you will have to watch the horror of your beloved get tortured on the battlefield.  You try.  Success is elusive or temporary.  You fail.  Again you grieve and so does she.

And if this well-worn path brings despair then so be it.  Tomorrow is still another day.  As for me, I’m still here and so is my beloved.  Most importantly, I know that my Lord sees my waterfall of tears lain at His throne of grace.  Life will go on somehow as it always does; I have more responsibilities now.  The despair will give way to some sort of hope in due time; the Lord will add His grace and strength to see me and my beloved through once again.

For today, I am like a beaten puppy on this well worn path of life.  It is tough stuff indeed.

Dang!  JJ

Stuck in the middle with you

My beloved is most gracious, loving, and kind to me

For these I am grateful.

My ventures out into community work were wrought with struggle then success

For some good results I am humbled.

My convulsive episodes have lessened then spiked on occasion, giving more clues than questions of late

For this I am, alas, perplexed.

My  labs raise questions about new things that need attention more than providing answers about a cause, per se, oh my

For the discouragement I will turn a cheek and trust my Lord, the Yahweh.

My distant family faces tragedy so we love on those who have come nearer for a time

For them we will simply give our love, again and again.

My life sprints and spurts in a race against time, energy, resources, wisdom, and fatigue

For the long naps this past week I shall be grateful.

My most prized moments are those stuck in the middle of all with you my dearest love

For your tender arms bring Jesus with skin on:  tis a really good thing, being here with you, even now.

My life would matter less if not witnessed, not shared by one who cares for me so and me for him

For such a time as this, you are the most incredible gift.  I love you Steve.  Thank you.

JJ