Posts Tagged God

Here we go…

This happens every year. This year I think the inauguration of Autumn baking thoughts happened when our daughter and I were watching B carve Halloween Pumpkins for our little family. But dancing skeletons evolved into dancing sugarplums. Or perhaps it was watching Charlie Brown’s great pumpkin that evolved into musings of pumpkin bread Christmas.

I love the distraction of post-Halloween plans. I mean I put up a few decorations for Halloween, and I think some decor is fun for the Holiday, but I see some people do an overload of focusing on evil and finding that humorous. For example, each year the neighbor behind us picks some dark theme and decorates accordingly. This neighbor is technically not on our street. But the upstairs master bedroom has a deck/patio that can view our backyard. Some years ago, with the rere-lease of It, for Halloween, the neighbor hung a massive decorative sheet from his upstairs bedroom patio so everyone at the end of our street, or anyone who dared take a detour down our street would have a clear leave nothing to the imagination view of Pennywise and all his bloody-faced glory, having no regard for little ones who might be traumatized by seeing a glimpse.

Unfortunately, when another neighbor asked them to take it down and to keep in mind those little and innocent trick-or-treater’s eyes who should be protected from seeing that, the neighbor saw himself as a self-appointed messenger doing everyone a favor and said, “Mind your own business, besides kids will see it eventually.” Lord, have mercy! We had the displeasure of seeing that nightmare one Halloween, but thankfully on the flip side, those same neighbors have not used their back deck since then to hang anything.

Now, I am not trying to portay myself as an innocent. I read Stephen King as a teenager and an early twenty-something, but my time reading dark literature was satisfied after I finished It. My late Granny took all five of the grandkids (I am the oldest) to the circus every year as youngsters when Ringling Brothers were in town, so I grew up liking clowns. However, the novel about Pennywise changed my appreciation of clowns and they ceased being fun. That novel really changed my simplistic view because apparently, clowns are not always happy.

Who can explain the nonsensical ramblings of a Jenn? Certainly not I. And that may or may not have any correlation to anything, When all of a sudden, my little brain thinks snowmen, more specifically, giggling about Olaf’s sweet ignorance of being a happy snowman in summer. And then there’s the fragrance of cinnamon inspired goodies like baking gingersnaps, pumpkin bread or snickerdoodles! Yum! Maybe it was because we had a short ‘bout of cooler temperatures, that reminded me of winter, though I’m about three weeks early… which then inspired me to think snowflakes again and cause me to bake because why wouldn’t I associate gingersnaps with autumn? They go together. Then winter solstice and just a few days later Christmas? Or maybe it was when my 2-year-old handed me a book to read her – the story about how that green thief who stole Christmas.

Praise God for all these distractions with my surgery coming up so there’s zero opportunity to fixate on worrying when I know God’s in control.

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One year ago…

My PCP diagnosed me with anemia. A few months later, I received the hypercalcaemia diagnosis from my endocrinologist, quickly followed by an Osteoporosis diagnosis and put on a drug that might cause me to lose a tooth or two. I want to be off that drug ASAP. Despite all the cumulative crap I’ve been dealing with since ‘17, I finally have a sliver of good news to share.

My endocrinologist at my July appointment basically threw-up his hands and said he’s sending me to an ENT because my symptoms don’t match my numbers, but he believes there’s something indicitive of a tumor, although the thyroid and parathyroid ultrasounds and nuclear medicine tests revealed nothing. My downward spiral of symptoms going from a pretty healthy patient (minus the MS) to going straight down a toilet as my gait in just a few months became that of a 90-year-old trying to be purposeful with each labored step.

Last weekend at church, as I walked to my vehicle and I heard someone behind me and glanced back to see who it was. The older gentleman has always reminded me of my late grandfather and I stopped so he could catch-up to me. He said he had never seen me walk so slow. I laughed and asked if it was really that noticable. Then he went on to explain how he’d always seen me actively chasing the little ones all over and then said he was keeping me in prayer. I tend to be guarded about sharing anything specific, but last Sunday morning, I was confident that the Holy Spirit put it on my heart to share with a few people at church that I was scheduled for surgery December 15 for a pararthyroidectomy.

My endocrinologist did send me to an ENT, who after viewing all the pictures, labs and radiology reports, sent me to another ENT. Well that ENT sent me to his ENT, who is head of the ENT department at the university in town and his MA was able to schedule me for an appointment to see him a week later. I told B I was tempted to cancel the appointment because I was tired of wasting my time and being referred and referred to another doctor, and another doctor, etc. B asked me to keep the appointment and if I still walked away after the appointment feeling dislcouraged and like I wasted my time, then we would seek other treatment. Funny how I get so frustrated that I might have some extreme tendencies to for example, jump off cliffs because it just makes more sense to me to do something drastic , ya know) and then B has this level of discernment that can reel me in and produce peace with a few words.

Well that ENT, about 60 seconds into the appointment, said he had viewed and studied the pictures of my parathyroid and explained he believed at least one part, potentially two of the four-part parathyroid had tumors. I asked him how long he had specialized in ENT studies. 30 years. Only 30 years!! Then he said, “ I’ve seen this before, these symptoms and pictures . I’m confident if we do the 15 minute surgery to take out the parathyroid, that you should start feeling better almost immediately in the recovery room.” And with those few words, those tear ducts started filling up. You might remember that this girl does not cry…. her eyes sweat.

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The end of the tunnel just became brighter…

When MS became more than MS with the unforseen truckload of additional health issues caused by the drug Lemtrada, I really questioned God and his faithfulness. I’m very aware there was never a guarantee that my life would be obstacle free. In fact as a Christian, it is a sure thing that God will allow trials for my own growth.

Having problems pushed me to know him better or have I reacted by becoming closed-up or anti-social?

As problems manifest, I have been prone to isolation. It’s way more comfortable than sharing anything for which folks will likely shun me anyway. So, in a sense I’m doing my future self a favor. Right? Totally. Except. God didn’t create any person to survive alone, but thrive with others to support, encourage, lift-up during times such as these. And there I was isolating myself at home, doing distance church from my iPad at home to avoid being a burden or a slow-poke with my cane or avoid questions like , “what happened?” from nosy-nellies posing as concerned people who care.

Ouch. Thank you, Lord for convicting me of being narcissistic and shame on me for doubting anyone’s intentions. That’s my normal reaction, but it dawned on me, (again thank you, Lord) last week watching church, that with all this crap going on with my health, that I have a fantastic testimony opportunity. And so after many weeks at home during church, but watching from a distance, I put on my big-girl pants and went back to church.

For an incredible reason. For B and I to have our two-year-old daughter dedicated at church. Didn’t I mention we had a foster child in our home? That we officially adopted at the beginning of August?

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Ongoing Variables

Prior to the five day Lemtrada treatment in ’16, a team of lab consultants and vampires phlebotemists took eight vials of blood along with the contents of my bladder to establish my base-lines for what my normal numbers were. My thyroid, and red and white blood cells were all completely within a normal range in that analysis two weeks prior to the Lemtrada commencement. Even with Multiple Sclerosis, all these were very much within the range labeled “normal.” I’m explaining this because the following will be somewhat of a brief meaning of the physiological changes that occurred following treatment. We knew of the potential side effects that could happen and from reading the disclosures, there were definitely adverse side effect occurances. With the information that MS could be eliminated through the treatment, I saw the treatment as a calculated risk.

Well, I became the Lemtrada anomaly. My neurologist received reports following those monthly labs to show how my body continued to respond to the treatment. About five months post Lemtrada my thyroid started showing things were changing so off I went to an endocrinologist who put me on medication to control the overcompensating hyperthyroid and a few months later, it became hypothyroidism for my underactive thryoid. Apparently my thyroid couldn’t make up its mind.

In the middle of all this the endocrin diagnosed me with Hashimotos, with vague instructions to stay away from gluten. I thought for a second that that was going to be easy to stay away! How silly was I? Once I researched gluten and found that it was in bread – I love baking bread – and that gluten is in so many of my favorite things {read as nearly everything} many candies I enjoy that include red licorice. But then once I became intentional to stay away from gluten for a month, which began in February 2019, things changed. Those chronic gut aches finally ceased. Over time, gluten-free has become more of a staple in grocery stores as gluten-free snack options are more available. While all these changes started in me and I needed to create my new normal , I was delighted to discover gluten-free snacks in stock with Amazon Prime. Did I mention Gluten-free chocolate covered pretzels?!?! Yum! Simply delightful.

Then a couple months later, the medication changed back to control my hyperthyroid’s overactive antics, but that didn’t go well but after all the nonsense, my numbers finally leveled-off. Then, of all the obscure causes why I didn’t respond well to the prescription, my endocrin said I was allergic to the dye in the prescription pills, so she wrote the Rx in such a way so my pharmacy filled the Rx with non-dyed pills. But then my encodcrinologist moved to Sweden and I was not responding well to the medication anyway so I opted to elimininate the idea of finding another endocrinologist. I didn’t really like her. My first appointment with her was weird. She asked many questions about when and how the MS was diagnosed and in that I explained that auto-immune was in my genes so it was definitely in my genetic make up to rear it’s ugly head. The doc’s take-away was telling me that I missed my calling to go to medical school and figure out why my MS was affecting me and why auto-immune put a target on my family or why Lemtrada screwed up my physiology. Apparently her playbook for me was to discover why I should’ve become a world-reknowned doctor who discovered a cure for MS. I’m not kidding or exagerating about one iota of this.

I would love to say I fired that doc, but timing was such that when I decided to not see this endocrin any longer, she went MIA over-seas. I took the opportunity to be in control, which I should’ve done at the beginning of all this nonsense and researched thyroid supplements and those most highly rated on Amazon. I read many reviews and ordered one supplement. I took for a couple months, but then after I decided that chronic diarhea, even as a temporary side-effect really sucked, I ordered a different highly rated supplement. And “Behold! No chronic diarhea? We had a winner!” Said Jenn after taking it for a month with no unwelcome side-effects. So with the supplement, I felt decent and have continued taking it for a few years now.

Then last September, my (now remember I had to agree to monthly labs for five years following Lemtrada.). Things started changing again with my physiology and my neurologist called and asked me to take a copy of my labs with me to see my PCP. What’s changed this time? I started feeling sick in mid-September ’20. Those labs said I was anemic. Apparently, as of February I’m no longer anemic, but if that’s true why am I still experiencing heart palpitations? Coincidentally, I just felt lousy. This coming December, it will have been five years since Lemtrada ended, but changes were still happening. My internal system has allegedly flushed the toxic chemical cocktail from my body, but things are going awry. For a couple years I put reading my Bible on hold while I was working through my anger at God for allowing our first foster placement after two years with us from birth, be sent to an unknown distant family member in St. Louis.

Perhaps the stress from that situation was another culprit for making my health go sideways. Whatever is going on, I feel like I’m in a fight for my life right now. My new Endocrin tested me for a list of about 25 things in December. A few of those things included conditions related to osteoporosis because with my initial intake appointment with him, he looked at my prior bloodwork and saw that in my urine, there is a high level of calcium, which isn’t normal. My body is leaking calcium. I’m too young to have osteoporosis. Which means I will need surgery to put a stop to this and have my parathyroid removed. I sought a second opinion and that doctor was in agreement that the parathyroid is indeed the problem child. I have an appointment for a bone density scan which should confirm the need for surgery and with the parathyroid removed, it should put a stop to the “calcium leak.”

https://youtube.com/watch?v=X1eMZWiOJ0a0&feature=share

Last June I began reading my Bible again and it’s timely that I am reading Job in the middle of my own health nightmare. God is faithful. I’ve seen and experienced healing in myself and others in years passed. But I’ve doubted him so much and prayed for my own end in order to to be rid of what I know will likely be temporary pain and discomfort. The pain and chronic discomfort that I’ve felt in the last six months is like nothing I’ve experienced before. God healed my MS in 2005. He healed my Dad’s cancer and continues to keep it away. So how dare I doubt his goodness?!?! One of B’s clients has a mom who is also a believer and she told my husband she had a dream about me and that she received a word that I would be healed. But like the Isrealites and their chronic complaining through the desert for 40 years for an 11 day journey, I have to keep my faith and remind myself that like Danny Gokey’s song, I “Just Haven’t Seen It Yet.” The light at the end of the tunnel has become faint, but I have to have faith that my struggles have not been in vain.

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I am a work in progress…

I was blogging with somewhat of a purpose, but then I started analyzing and reanalyzing every stinking thing I do and do not do.  I feel like a mouse trapped in a maze because I have been all over the map trying to figure out what my point is and answer the million dollar question of why do I do what I do? I’ve ultimately determined that my blog is for me.  When I began blogging some years ago. I had hopes illusions of reaching a massive following for those with MS and/or their care-partners and even more of those who were interested in knowing more about being a Christ-follower in the middle of battling a debilitating illness and trying to mainfain faith and trust that God was still good when my Multiple Sclerosis was spiraling out of control.

And it was. I went from being for the most part able-bodied and independent to having to learn to self-catheterize when I couldn’t empty my bladder on my own. Using a cane became obsolete when I had to graduate to using a walker and finally upgrade to a wheelchair all within six months … and back then in October 2001 when I was struggling in my position and could no longer do my job as a consumer loan officer, my neuroligist said I likely wouldn’t see my 30th birthday, which was still some years away. I’m briefly explaining all that to get around to my point that I am going to blog for me because I enjoy writing.  If anyone follows my non-nonsensical gibberish or rantings that get tossed around in my mind, then sure, I hope you enjoy yourself, are encouraged or at the least, can smile at something said, but don’t expect anything Nobel prize worthy. I’m writing for myself as it can be therapeutic. My story is not debateable because it is MY experience and I will not apologize for MY convictions. Consider that fair-warning.

As a Christian I do get mad, upset or annoyed when unexpected circumstances or events (like bad health) put a hiccup in MY plans. Really? Indeed. Because I am a control-feak extrordinaire, but am always trying to give up my own illusions of what I want and instead work toward fulfilling God’s plan for my life. I am a sinner. That’s not a badge, just a recognition that I am so far from being perfect. I have made some massive mistakes that years later, I still struggle with forgiving myself. I am a Christ-follower.  There is a difference because many label themselves as Christians, but they don’t have a relationship with God, pray etc.

Be confident that that is not a judgement of anyone because only God knows an individual’s heart. I am actively seeking God’s will for my life on a continual basis and although I mess-up many times every day, I try to stay on-track. I have a lot of Biblical head kowledge, but am trying to get myself to having more heart knowledge. That is not a pat on my back for ‘intentions’ because intentions do NOT count or provide any points for scoring if that’s how you grade yourself. 2000 years later, Jesus still remains the only perfect human. Perfection is impossble, but God is always at work in people’s lives to refine us into who we’re supposed to be for his purposes.

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You may remember…

I had mentioned/blogged some years ago about B and I being foster parents. I will review at some point the events that transpired between ’17 and ’18 when I think it’s the appropriate time to share… However, what matters most, right now, in this moment, is that we are still technically fostering, but we’re also in the process of adopting.

Our little was 2-days-old when the county called and asked, “You still have your crib available?” We gained custody directly from the hospital and the birth mom was entirely committed to being at every opportunity to see her baby and bond. About eight months later, rumors about Covid started gaining traction and by March, states began issuing the “Stay home” orders. Unfortunately, because of how quickly Covid was spreading, it was also necessary to close the visitation center where fosters and biological parents were meeting a couple of times per week.

I asked the case worker for the biological mom’s phone number and email so she and I could set up a weekly Zoom time so visual meetings could continue , which to make everything easy, was the same time I brought the baby to see her birth-mom at the center. The visitation center kept track of when all parties showed-up, so since they were closed, I kept a record of when I logged-in to Zoom meetings and when or if the mom showed-up. The heart-breaking thing is that of those twenty-some weeks opportunities to meet via Zoom, were available, the biological-mom showed less than 10 times.

Then last Fall, the expected court dates happened, TPR was finalized and the court declared to let us adopt. It’s been bitter-sweet. Please, don’t get me wrong! It’s been the most exciting thing for B and I to finally be this close to adopting. The sadness is recognizing that while T’s birth-mom has lost her daughter, we’re gaining a daughter. Thank you, God.

Bitter-sweet…

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Too big to not share

With everything going on and my ever increasing #MSinducedmemoryproblems, I have to share this while I’m thinking about it or “POOF!”  it’ll be gone and I’ll forget again because #MultipleSclerosis is playing hardball with my short-term memory retention these days.  We’re at T minus 10 days until I start the #Lemtrada round one treatment.

Monday morning last week, B #husband #love texted me shortly after he got to work to say that he had some big #news and would share when he got home, but I was busy with the #baby #love and then getting #cleaning stuff done around the house #clean #addict and then POOF, my husband’s text was forgotten!  That thought was gone and I didn’t think twice about it.  I had dinner ready and Baby was fed when B came home, so he changed his clothes #relaxation and then we immediately said a dinner blessing.  He was anxious to share whatever it was and I’d forgotten about the big news so I hesitated and put the burrito #dinner back on the plate.  At his job, B’s an #art #mentor for mentally handicapped students and a student’s mom had called first thing that morning to let the staff know her son would be home sick that day, but as long as B answered the phone, Mary said she had something to share with him.  She shared with B that a few days before, #God had placed on her heart to fast and #pray for me, but she didn’t know why.

Now, my #health is generally not a topic of conversation for either of us with strangers, especially for B at work, where unless I’m experiencing a symptom like vertigo that has required him to be home to care for Baby, other than a few people, no one really knows the rough issues with my #relapsingremittingms that rarely require him to be home, thankfully.  B said that at one point, he had shared with Mary, who is also a #Believer, my testimony of walking again #miracle after being in a wheelchair for years.  You must remember I do not cry, but my eyes occasionally sweat, mostly from allergies #denial.  B then shared that a few days after fasting and praying for me, God told Mary I was going to be #healed.  Initiate single eye-sweating program.  I felt very #blessed that a person I met only once, might feel a burden to fast and pray for me, but I said nothing, then he repeated, “Jenn, Mary said God told her you’re going to be healed soon.”  Level-up.  Initiate inadvertent dual eye-sweating sequence…

So, in no way did I believe I could deserve something so big since I already received such a significant blessing years ago allowing me to walk again #amazing.  It’s like I think my blessing bowl can be filled only once in a life-time.  It’s definitely a process to consistently stop negative thoughts and immediately redirect and recognize those thoughts are inspired by the enemy telling me, “You don’t deserve ___.”   I must stop such thoughts many times each day.  My husband is fantastic to gently remind me that #Godismerciful and doesn’t use a pay-for-play method of forgiveness or blessing.

What?!?  But I already was healed from having to depend on a wheelchair 11 years ago!  #miracle  Oh no-those sweat-glands in my eyes failed in a big way and my eyes began sweating profusely.  I was confused how I was deserving of such a magnificent #blessing. I have a performance-based blessing mentality so I’m actively working to clean-out many years of negative internal-dialogue.  I am still working toward recognizing performance based blessing in no way resembles my merciful and loving Savior.  #nonsensestopshere I must be conscientious to make sure I do not repeat those methods with our foster #babyblessing,  who my husband and I very much hope to #adopt.

I always use speaker-phone so my hands are free to do other mindless tasks like fold laundry while I “chat.”  Unfortunately though, while my phone was on speaker a few months ago, B overheard everything loud and clear so there was no misinterpretation of conversation lecture verbiage about consequences I’m apparently still suffering, making B get a sour taste of that performance-based affection.  “Now I know why you operate with a pay-for-play mentality.  I’m so sorry, Sweetheart – I might get it now.”  Things might have the ability to stick and set the tone for one’s dysfunctional internal dialogue for years, but it really is changing.  #praiseGod #Jesussaves

I’m excited because as this Lemtrada treatment situation has unfolded over the past few months with God opening doors for my grant application to be immediately approved for funding the treatment, my faith steadily increasing and doubt finally gone and being at peace that although risky, Lemtrada is in fact the vehicle through which God will deliver healing as Lemtrada is the only treatment able to heal previous MS damage.  #peacethatpassesallunderstanding  This is exactly where God is guiding me and with healing, I believe He’s also preparing me for great things.  Lord, I’m ready now.  #amen

 

And of course, GO HAWKS!

Jenn

 

 

 

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My application was approved!  

The last several months I’ve dreaded doing my MS drug treatment injections.  Dreaded.  As in I will wait AVOID and wait AVOID some more until I cannot AVOID it any longer on my injection days and have to make-up my mind to just do my darn shot.  8000 daily injections (some days two) in 16 years might have that effect.  Despite nurses coming out to my home and observing my shot routines and trying new shot depths for the injection device, I could not get injection site swelling reactions to cease or even diminish so my injection sites were finally limited to my hips and tummy, where it’s less painful because ultimately and consistently, I still need my medication.  Six weeks ago, we saw my neurologist, asked a lot of questions based on our research of available non-injection drug treatments and I realized my tolerance is high for drugs that could potentially kill me, versus low for drug treatments that could cause me nausea.  I actually find that very amusing.  

The thing is all MS drug treatments have that little disclaimer that they might cause death, but that number is so low and related to patients who already had other issues going on.  So when all this dread began a while back, we started praying about a new drug option.  Our faith is not in a drug, but that God will allow the drug to be the vehicle that improves my disease status.  As we started praying for doors to be opened with this treatment, but clearly shut if this was not something to pursue, the doors opened quickly and have remained open, which answered our question, but I began doubting because everything was falling in to place, too fast, in my opinion.  

Then, God asked if I would doubt his provision of the opportunity for which we prayed…   I felt convicted and finally my husband shared that he’d been praying for the doors tobe wide open or nailed shut.  After our research, we definitely leaned toward a particular drug, but lacked the needed funding.  It’s expensive.  Why are chronic disease treatment meds so stinking expensive?  I’ll tell you why.  Because drug companies make way more money treating a “no-cure-in-sight” chronic illness than to patent any available disease management improving treatments.  The drug that I’ve been pursuing is not a cure, but a disease-altering method of disease management.  Many of the individuals who have taken the drug were at a bad place disease-wise where this drug was their final hope and this drug delivered for them.   
For now, I’ll start making a list of all the symptoms that I hope and pray will diminish or disappear as a result of this treatment and keep doing my now three-times-per-week shots because I’ve been approved and funded for this new treatment.  With the end in-sight, I’ve developed short-timers and am anxious for this new treatment chapter to begin.  Treatment will begin sometime in the next few weeks at which point, I’ll name the drug and all the little details that go with it.   

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Stop self-diagnosing and seek professional help

I woke in the middle of Friday night to a very loud crash and shot out of bed when I noticed my husband wasn’t next to me.  I ran to the bathroom and said B’s name.  “Are you alright, Sweetheart?”  There was no response and I turned on the light.  He was on the floor.  His forehead was bleeding.  He had passed out and came-to as I was talking to him.  The situation was terrifying.  I asked him what was going on, if he had a stomach ache?  Should I call 9-1-1?  He was sweating profusely.  He said no to calling, but he wanted needed to get back in bed as he was dizzy and very disoriented.  B is several inches taller and heavier, but I tried to help B stand-up the best I could and as it appeared he made progress in his steps.  I reached to push the bathroom door out of the way and B fell again with another crash.  What was going on?  Something was clearly very wrong and my mind began racing with “what ifs?”  
B was again unreceptive to me calling 9-1-1 as he had no thoughts that his life was in jeopardy, but asked me to start taking notes about how he felt because we’d probably need those later.  I got my tablet, opened the appropriate App and started typing short-hand as fast as I could.  B shared what types of symtoms started when and I sought a second opinion from that handy web-based MD App, plugged in symptoms and coincidentally, the App agreed with my own assessment.  The thing is, I really say that the App agreed with moi, tongue-in-cheek because neither B, nor I are medical professionals.  

I shared the other day that I’m back to white-knuckling everything…  And then this situation with my wonderful husband’s health at stake, just about sent me over the edge.  Why?  Currently, we have custody of a growing 6-month-old baby, whom we hope to adopt in the coming months, although I’ve been clear with B that I’m fine with her being here as long as he remains healthy because I am terrified to be a single parent.  Terrified.  We’re also actively pursuing application approval for me to receive a fairly new FDA approved MS therapy that has the potential to repair much of what MS took from me many years ago and then add-in all the other nagging, problematic issues of my our life and I’m a clear-cut case for a nervous breakdown.  About a year ago, I started having somewhat regular panic attacks when my/our circumstances or coming events become overwhelming.  I had my first panic attack last fall before B took me to the airport to visit my family, another one when we gained custody of our foster baby – give me some grace as we’d never had children, another panic attack when our baby’s drug-dependent mom accosted me in early spring and each week thereafter for the next few months until I finally came to realization that God’s angels surrounded me and baby D when her mom got in my face, then the start of another attack as I fretted about B the other night as I watched him go back to sleep, worrying.  

I’m so glad my husband is willing to go to the doctor when things are not right.  First thing Saturday morning, he went to do a walk-in and was seen almost immediately.  He said the PA did a full exam and shared her assessment, but that he’d need a CT scan Monday morning to get pictures of the condition she suspected.  But with insurance, the CT scan copay would be $1100 and B said, “No.”  So he’s been telling me because we don’t have that available, there must be another answer.  And B also keeps telling me that instead of it being about his health, perhaps it’s entirely about ME and my need to put my faith into trusting God and resting in him instead of burdening myself with worrying about things over which I have no control.  B has three goose eggs where his head hit the tile and he’s confident he didn’t get concussed, but all things considered, I think the gooseeggs are minor in the grand scheme.  

Our pets are so at-ease about everything.  I mean, they’re intuitive and seek to comfort when one of us is not well, but they don’t wring their paws with worry.  Dear God, thank you for my husband and thank you for protecting him when he fell.  Thank you also that this situation was not worse and please help me in my faith. And please help me to be like our pets and be at peace, Lord trusting and being at peace in you as they trust in us.

Have you had a similar situation with your spouse?  How did you prepare or deal with this type of situation when you were in it or after the fact?  

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Our world has been sufficiently rocked.

No, really.  Two months into the new year – by the way – tangent warning, I really hate resolutions – read last new year’s entry rant why I have never made a resolution because if I want to make changes, I just do it and do not require a calendar date to keep a countdown, keep me motivated or keep me accountable, etc.  What I did do was make a commitment to myself to become active again in addition to my existing regimen of weights and stationary biking.  I swam competitively through high school and college, but recently determined I’d do something different and start running. Because I could.  For years, I’ve been scared to try because of that whole stint in a wheelchair for five years, but got over myself and tried to run and guess what?!  I did.  My husband has always been my biggest and best cheerleader and talked me into being fitted for proper running shoes based on the correct support for our surrounding terrain.  I did get fitted, then researched price, ordered and as an added benefit, those running shoes are even the colors of my Seahawks!  Yay for me and GO HAWKS!!  But the colors were never even a real consideration.  So those new running shoes arrived and I initially wore them at the gym on the treadmill, assessed and was confident that I could in fact run.  I mapped out my running route in the neighborhood to start the following day and then God ripped the carpet from under me and said, “Jenn, I have other plans for you” when we received an unexpected call later that evening.

You might recall a previous post about a year ago that I finally shared with my husband the snapshots that I’d seen for the prior twelve plus months.  Remember?  After I shared that little tid-bit of info, B essentially sat me at the table with a bright light shining on me to question me and determine how serious I was,then after the FBI- style interrogation, he determined I was on the up and up because that’s how completely unexpected it was for B to hear me mention, “Well maybe we’re still here because we’re supposed to adopt a child.”  Eleven years ago, after the failed attempt to adopt a baby from China, when a year into the process we were declined to adopt because of my MS, the subject of children in our own home had become the topic of which we no longer spoke.  So imagine how unexpected the suggestion nearly a decade later…

As Christians we seek God’s will and pray for God’s prompting for major decisions, but with my ‘epiphany’ we were even more resolved to make sure that this vision was really from the Almighty.  The weeks following the ‘interrogation’ were filled with prayer and research and then in July 2015, we began the 10-week journey to become licensed for foster to adopt through the state.  In addition to a plethora of info, we obtained CPR/First Aid certifications,  reinstalled the pool-fencing, had two home-studies, installed the necessary magnet locks and fire-extinguishers, obtained a crib and the path was smooth-sailing, confirming yet another answer that what we were doing was indeed, God-led.

However, what had become disappointing after completing the class and list of tasks was the continued delay of getting licensed since our social worker had estimated that would happen before the new year, but we did not hear a thing for weeks later.  One of our class members had set up a closed social networking group that was created for our training class only.  Many of our class-members posted pictures of their newly acquired foster munchkins.  I may be kind of sort of admitting that the green monster had more than likely, undeniably and most definitely bit me.  Hard.  I’m blessed to have a spiritually strong husband with excellent discernment.  Most of the time I operate on logic, but there was nothing about this situation that ever spoke logic, so that overwhelming left-brain-ness went right impulsively emotional on me.  B helped me realize that the green monster’s name was “Obama” when I had this sense of missing out on my fair share, but once again my wise husband pointed out that this entire process was about stretching our faith in God’s timing by not taking control where those control-freak tendencies might have in the past.

Back to that unexpected call…  Our licensing social worker finally called in February that the center had received a baby.  A baby!?!  A baby.  A baby was never on my radar because those visions were always of a toddler.  But what then came to me was that our licensing SW said in class was that “adoption may not happen with your first placement…,” but I also thought this could be good experience for both of us.  B had those same thoughts, called the case worker, we asked many questions, after which we prayed and determined we’d pick-up that baby the following morning.   Talk about a world-rocking situation…   Most people have nine months to prepare for a newborn.  You know that whole thing of what to expect when you’re pregnant?  We had 12 hours.  But, here we are weeks later, very much operating as ships-passing-in-the night-zombie-mode, if that is a real condition.  We are sleep-deprived starved and ‘conversations’ have become limited to Neanderthal-like grunts and groans of exhaustion.  Lord, I apologize to any Neanderthals out there who read blogs, let alone have the wherewithal to take offense at my very tired sense of humor.

Next you might read about the monopoly of over-priced “Baby” targeted gear.

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