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

I long for you

My intended beloved, oh man of my longing

How is it that these things come between you and me?

I lie next to your warmth, oh so ready to imbibe

Til the horror of illness keeps me far, far away once more.

Albeit evil it must be:  a test for my weary, so weary heart

You know my lord and my Lord that I do shake with grief so!

Perhaps just for a time, please wait for me love

I shall return soon when illness has gone one day, I promise, I do.

Until then know that you are the one for whom that my heart sings

The one who loves me so, beyond that which I can even wanton,

My knight in shining aluminum, we jest, but you are indeed more

And know me well, I love you too . . . this is all I need to know to live.

Our Jesus is out in front of us two leading us on

When darkness comes, oh here it is again, we shall not be moved;

Hold me as you are able or as my frame lets you in

Forever in my heart you know you will for always be with  me.

Solomon, 3:4, Christian, marriage, trials, chronic illness, sickness, intimacy, sexuality, wife, husband, Lyme, seizures

Just short of maximum destruction

monster truck, women, riding, Maximum Destruction, celebrate, ride a truck

That’s me with my brother’s girlfriend catching a ride on a Saturday night as I waved to my husband from the Monster Truck ride at the Maximum Destruction show.  Although I had never ridden in a jacked-up truck before, the figure-8 track of an auto raceway not far from the Motor City is nothing new for me.  I grew up hollering and hooting during demolishion derbies on hot summer weekends in the Detroit area where I grew up.  Virtually everyone in my family worked in the auto industry, the men in my family all tinkered with their cars, and my Dad founded a company that produced the fastest slot car motors on the tracks in the 1960’s.  It seems so long ago yet the adrenaline is so easy to tap into when I hear those engines get revved up!

The racing was exciting!  The effect it had on me was not-so-much exciting as it jittered my fragile nerves.  We did make it all the way through to the trailer races on the figure-8 track at the end of the night:  battered vehicles of all types pulling various types of 2-wheeled trailers for about 10 laps around the track.  The smash-ups drew roars from the crowd and the buggy towing the large teddy bear in a row boat took home the trophy that night.  I was exhausted as my own River Bear drove us home into the wee hours of the morning back across the State lines to Indiana.  What a crazy night!

I am not sure if it was all of the smoke that seeped through my charcoal mask, the vibration of the roaring engines, sitting on those damp wooden bleacher seats, or what exactly affected me the most on Sunday.  I sure slept a lot!  Certainly any of it would have kept me home just 1 year ago.  I am doing better in many ways.  But today brought another bad convulsive episode that seems to be happening again about every other day now.  We are puzzled; I am discouraged.  The healing from the specialized dental appliances and upper cervical chiropractic care appeared to be helping to decrease my reactivity, normalize my sleep/wake cycle, increase my activity level, and overall decrease the episodes.  There were at least 2 days per week when I had no seizure attacks at all!  And now they are back.

The only possibility we can think of right now, after nearly 7 years of serious illness and more medical care than you can imagine is a hidden issue in my cervical spine.  Cervical vascular disease can give rise to traditional seizures but more in the acute phase of these issues than in a chronic phase.  When neck extension can trigger them and the episodes can include a near paralysis of one side of my body then I start to think there is more going on than some pinched cranial nerves.  Have the dental appliances reduced my symptoms 80%?  Yes, until now, they have yet I still deal with the remaining 20% every day.  Chiropractic adjustments and physical therapy  have both triggered and resolved an onset of episodes.

My medical doctor took some convincing then ordered the first of a couple of diagnostic tests after realizing that I have a family history of carotid artery  and heart disease.  I was at the race this weekend with my brother who had a devastating stroke 4 years ago due to occlusion of his carotid arteries.  For me, initial testing shows that my carotid artery is fine; it is the vertebral artery that could be most suspect as it travels around the first cervical vertebrae called the atlas.  More testing should clarify what is going on.  I often have instability or rotation at the level of  C1.  It doesn’t move correctly during flexion or extension according to specialized cervical xrays.  We have got to figure out what is going in these structures in my neck!

Today and some other days recently, Steve providing simple distraction technique of my neck eventually resolved my worst symptoms during a bad episode.  Extreme fatigue follows with an emotional release of frustration, despondency, exasperation, grief, and sorrow.  This has just been going on for so very long!  I am amazed that all of the massively destructive movement patterns occurring thousands of times day after day for years has not caused more damage to my weary frame.  This finding actually gives me hope — that if the episodes stop then maybe I can regain some physical health and fitness with with what is left of me, with the body my Lord has entrusted to my care.  Even those beat-up sedans, pick-up trucks, and other stock cars on the race track somehow keep going to win races week after week.  Just tune ’em up, sure-up the quarter panels-n-bumpers, and onto the track they line up to race another day.

Perhaps that will be me at some level too in my race called “life.”  Only I think I’ll add a little more bling to my frame than the lipstick ladies did to their jalopies during the first heat this past Saturday night.  I might even spruce up the “paint job” on my hair color too.  Next weekend (or hopefully one day soon) just might be my night to shine when the official waves the green flag to get up and go.  Surely that will be a prize worth waiting for . . . just short of the ultimate finish line in heaven.  Yes my Lord, I’m ready!

JJ

Hebrews, 12:1, run, the race, with endurance, Bible verse, race of life

Frequent Flyer Miles

Hospital Christmas Tree, hospital, medical, ID, identification, patient, band

Travel frequently with any major airline and before long you will accumulate Frequent Flyer Miles.  Gather enough points and you can start planning a getaway weekend to someplace warm or maybe remote enough to forget the cares of everyday life.  Oh how I want to cash mine in soon . . .

So I walked into our neighborhood hospital for a test and the gal at the reception desk greeted me by name!  She had my red radiology folder already in-hand, clearly expecting me at any moment (with most of my “HIPPA” paperwork already started!).  Talk about customer service?  Er, no.  More likely it’s a function of my frequent visits to medical practitioners and departments within the past week:  SEVEN OF THEM!

It’s the week before Christmas so I thought I would photograph a few hospital I.D. bands within the bright green branches of a Dwarf Mugo Pine.  Kinda looks pretty, doesn’t it?  Ugh.  I digress. I’m alright, Gentle Reader.  The choking coupled with increased nightly seizures turned out to be symptoms of a sinus infection and all are gradually subsiding with a course of antibiotics.  I’m getting back to baseline.  Too bad they don’t award Frequent Flyer Miles for taking care of yourself or enduring a bumpy flight!

Overall, I am grateful to have these healthcare “destinations” to guide me along my journey towards recovery.  Various medical appointments are my daily occupations of late, mixed in with wrapping a few gifts and trying hard to focus on serving others in this season of giving.   It really does help to put your eyes on the needs of others to help lessen the burden you may be carrying.  I was reminded of this in the middle of this past week, sitting alone in the chapel of our local hospital.  Ever visit one?  They are a sweet oasis when needed.

Thank you my Lord, Jesus Christ, for meeting me there in my own time of need.  So glad you always take a flyer on me when I call . . .  JJ

 

The Dog Behind the Curtain

Dimly lit, like the medical equipment stored all around me, I sat in the vinyl seat of that cold wheelchair.  My head was unsupported as I writhed this way and that, right leg then left leg shaking uncontrollably.  Breathing was irregular and challenging as I pushed the air out of my chest to start the cycle again then again, gasping every few intervals.  Just my legs were visible from behind the curtain drawn along my right side and lit from light in the hallway.  A passerby might see my exposed knee bouncing up and down from underneath my torn jeans or maybe not.  Who would expect to see a middle-aged woman seizing just beyond a dark veil anyways?

Most likely a dog in a kennel could be positioned in such a fashion!  Perhaps to put her to sleep, to stow her away out of sight, to deal with her later?  Only a mean caregiver would treat an animal in such a way.  Or perhaps a nurse in the outpatient lab of a local hospital?  The latter was my lot this afternoon.  And hours later I grieved the insensitive treatment that I had received (rather had not received).  She never even responded earlier to my light chatter or attempts at humor as she withdrew 10 vials of blood from my scarred veins.  I had to ask her with strained breaths not to wheel me into the waiting room where others would gawk at my strife.  Holy cow.  Aren’t you paid to care for your patients?  You don’t have to care about me personally but HAVE YOU NO HEART?

Most of them have seen me react many times before to medical procedures that trigger anywhere from a couple of moments of shaking to over 2 hours of convulsive episodes and long after the procedure in their outpatient clinic was completed for infusions, injections, blood draws, and port flushes.  Several times other nurses have had to find coverage for their stations or stay late to take me to the bathroom in a wheelchair while my body writhed, gasping for air like a child with cerebral palsy.  Eventually the episode would resolve minutes after voiding in the toilet.

Once I was in the clinic having an infusion of fluids on my birthday and ended up spending the entire evening in the Emergency Room when the seizure attacks would not stop.  That was 2 1/2 years ago.  Twice they have had to call my husband to come and get me or bring me a medication to try and make it stop.  Dozens of times they have just allowed me to sit in a treatment room recovering, long after they had gone home for the night.  A p.m. shift nurse would come in and check on me every 30-60 minutes as I stared at the walls or the mobile T.V. screen in front of my face.  When I could walk again I would move to the lobby for another interval of time until I was stable enough to go home.  No one even noticed I was there.  By the way, they always play my fav HGTV in the Surgical Waiting lobby dontcha know?

This time the aftermath felt like being banished to the broom closet by an abusive grandmother.  I could not reach the call light and no effort was made to make it possible.  I heard the same phlebotomy nurse chatting lightly with the next patient after me who was there for an EEG.  And again with the lady having a blood test.  I guess they were less “complicated” than me.  They probably didn’t remind said nurse of her own seizure episode many years ago that had disrupted her life for 6 months.  (She had told me about that earlier this year while I was sitting in the clinic recovering from an episode triggered by the pain of the needle stick and extraction.)  Yeah maybe that’s it.  Or did she just want to get back to the break area this afternoon and not be bothered by me anymore?

These episodes and experiences create additional trauma for the person enduring a serious, long-term illness.  You come face-to-face with the reality that people just don’t care as much as they should or get tired of caring, even as professional care-givers.  Take more of their time, their effort, their expertise, their personal comfort than they are willing to give and you will struggle making up the difference.  You are pretty close to being on your own.  It is not your fault yet it is your fault.  Suck it up and figure out a way to get home and not kick the dog when you get there.  Almost 3 hours later I felt as beaten down as I could possibly be as I walked out of that place.

A warm fuzzy friend with big brown eyes and wagging tail greeted me at the door when I got home.  She loves me.  I love our Elle.  So at least for me, I will be caring for our dog in a well-lit room with all the comfort measures she needs within a reasonable time of her letting me know that need.  She may not even need to ask me.  I know what she needs.  I care about her and know how to take care of her.  She will not be shunned to a dark corner behind a curtain as others are walking by.  At least unless she is barking wildly at the UPS or FedEx driver, that is.  Into the laundry room alone you will go . . . but just for a moment or two.  She would bite a chunk out of them if I didn’t!

Well Elle, I must say that I know how you feel. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr.  JJ

woman with dog, German shepherd, travelling, pet, Nissan Frontier, trip, jump seat