His Grace...

From the date of my last post... seems I have neglected my writing. I feel also as though I have neglected my family... and neglected my life... I have forgotten my thoughts...

I have realized though... that none of the things that I have stated in the above ramblings are not true. Well, they are in a way... but not really.

During the past week... I have come to rely on my family for more than they can ever know. My emotions feel as though they have been like a bed sheet outside on a clothesline... being battered by the wind... barely hanging on by two rotten wooden clothes pins that are slowly loosing grip on the one strand of rope left that is frazzled and freyed... only to let go of the sheet with the last blow of a gust that rips the sheet in two as it flies violently across the skies to be sucked up into the funnel cloud that is thrashing everything in it's path.

To just let go... would be the easiest way to soothe the pain of being ripped apart.

But... I did not let go.

I don't like to complain about things. I find, however, at times in my posting... that I have complained of physical ailments that I have been suffering through. If I have come across as complaining... I apologize. I was more just reaching out for understanding... I think.

Don't think of what I am going to post about as being complaining. More like... explaining... with a purpose. You'll see... it will all round out in the end.

For the past several months... my body has been literally attacked with one physical flamming arrow after another. It started with such an excrutiating pain in my left ankle... said to be "gout". Ok... fine and dandy... I leave work on a medical absence... my family life and household suffers... and I suffer physically and the simple act of taking a step... brings me to my knees. Here is kind of where the emotional bed sheet gets hung on the clothesline. It is hard to "be the provider" for your family... when "no one else can be". Yes, we did have income... medications were hard to afford... some bills did not get paid... food was few... but we had some... and one time an angel left several stuffed bags of Wal*Mart "stuff to get ya by" was sitting on our doorstep.

God is good... even in the midst of turmoil... and uncertainty.

Ankle gets better... Yay! I go back to work. Things start to get back to "normal"... whatever that is. I still hobble to and fro... at times having pain... limping... but I do it. Things were ok... for a short while. Kind of a blur of painlessness...

I don't remember that feeling anymore... painlessness.

I cannot pinpoint when this last flamming arrow hit... but it hit me good... or bad... however you want to look at it. It hit me square in the lower portion of my back... traveling down my left leg... hip... knee... and once again... ankle and foot.

Ok... so you are thinking... woopie... she has a little back pain... who doesn't?

Have you ever had pain so bad that you wake up screaming from your sleep? You cannot cry hard enough... you cannot catch your breath... because when you breathe the pain gets worse. It doesn't just happen occasionally... it happens at times all night long. There is not a place on this earth that could comfort the pain. Only the softness and security of an angels wings could take that kind of pain away... anyone have a bed made of angels wings?

A good three weeks solid... screaming through the night... crying so hard that you sob without moving or making a sound.

Where are you God? If you are so great and wonderful... If you love me like you say you do... Why have you left me here all alone... Why can't you please... I'm begging... I cannot take much more... Why are you letting this happen... I just want to give up... Just let me give up... I cannot stand this pain any longer... You be my strength please... Why won't you... Where are you God? Various things screamed out in agony by myself.

During my sleep... I would grab my husband's hand or arm... which automatically comes my direction when the screaming starts. At first... It helped me situate myself to a different postion to relieve the pain. Then... It became something to reach out for... to not be alone in the pain. One night... just recently... my husband was in the bathroom and I jolted awake screaming in pain again... and I reached for his arm... and it was not there. I remember in my screaming... "Why is there not a hand to hold onto when I am in need of it"... I remeber thinking somewhere in the back of my subconscious mind... "That didn't sound like me." My husband hurried back to bed... and I fell asleep holding onto his arm. His strength became a comfort to me.

My daughter... sleeps on our bedroom floor... so when I wake during the night... she will be right there to get whatever I need... at times... it has been an outstretched hand to help me get out of bed... so that I can go to the bathroom... or put a pillow under my left leg... or get me a pain pill... or three glasses of water (one night)... sometimes... she just sits on the edge of the bed with me as I sob and scream and asks me if there is anything she can do for me. What she doesn't realize... is that her very presence in my life... has done more for me than any act of kindness on her part could ever compare to. She is my life blood. She is my child. She is my friend... she sat on the edge of the tub last night and prayed for me while I went to the bathroom... she is my miracle. I can never repay her what she is deserved.

My best friend... Thelma. Her husband... Butch. How can I even describe what kind of friends... and people these two are? Mere words are not in my language to even begin. Through all of this time... and many countless times in the past years... she has been there for me... if not in person... then in prayer. She has called me twice... well more than twice... but the two times I am referring to are these:

I have been flat on my back in bed... in agony... and the phone rings in the life of my house that is lived beyond the bedroom door. The door opens and someone brings the phone to me and says... "It's Thelma". I know in my heart that she knew... somehow... that I needed her on the other end of the phone. She asks me how I am doing. I tell her. We talk a little bit about this and that... I feel mostly like I am complaining... but when excrutiating pain is what you are doing... what else is there? She is so comforting to my tired brain. Her laugh as she drives past a skunk while on the phone with me... she says she always passes a dead skunk when she is on the cell phone with me... I always tell her... that I cannot smell it... the laughter feels good. The conversations usually have a heartfelt straight from God prayer at the end. As she almost closes her eyes... her reverence to God is very admirable... but I insist that she keeps her eyes open as she drives. Once again... the laughter feels good. Then she prays. I lay there... unable to move... with the phone held tightly to my ear as to not miss one single solitary word... Oh God please let her not lose her connection. My tears start to flow... the phone starts to get soggy as the tears start to build up around my ear. God's words flow through the airwaves through Thelma's cell phone and right into my heart.

I feel so weak. At times... I feel as if I cannot go on. Yet... every morning after a night of torment and torture... I somehow manage to make it to work. My movements slow and presice... as to not hurt anymore than I already am. When the work day is done... I practically crawl to the car... and painfully twist myself into the seat... and drive home twitching and writhing in pain... with tears flowing... yelling out to God for his mercy. I get home and pull myslef slowly up the four steps to our house... they might as well be a mountain... to begin the evening and nighttime festival of pain and torture once again.

My friends, Thelma and Butch... my husband... and my daughter... all sending up determined and heartfelt prayers for healing.

Slowly... very, very, very slowly... I am getting tiny baby steps of relief from the pain. I am surprised at times... that I have not overdosed from pain pills... but I have managed to keep myself legal and close enough to the directions on the bottles prescribed as my doctor wants to be safe. With time... less amounts of pain pills and muscle relaxers are needed during the daytime hours. With every day that goes by... I walk a little straighter... still with pain... but only slight beginnings of being just a teeny bit better. Is that hope?

Some of you... who know me in person... know that I am a very large, overweight person. And if you have read some of my previous posts... you will know that I weigh around 450 pounds. Yep... believe it. My weight is more than likely the cause of most of my problems... I am not denying that... never have and never will deny that. I am perfect and bluntly honest with that fact.

I have been blessed with the fact that I do not have high blood pressure. I have been blessed with the fact that I do not have cancer. I have been blessed with the fact that I do not have diabetes. Apparently, though, my bones and muscles and the such... are not made of steel.

So, what do we do? We go to the doctor. Again. Physical therapy is not working. Pain pills are not healing. Eating less and dieting is helping but not mending the problem in my back. My doctor suggests an MRI. Ok... I am fine with that. I am scheduled for one in Spokane, Washington... approximately 70 miles away. They apparently have an "open MRI" which allows for larger people to fit into the machine for the tests. Great... let's do it!

So... we painfully make the trek... and I go into the office. They take me into a room with a huge machine in it. I have had an MRI before... but not with the need of a larger machine. OH... at first they take me into this room where I have to take off anything that is metal. I lock my stuff into this little tiny drawer under this bench. A skinny little person in a neat clean little scrub outfit perkily tossles her blonde in a box hair around saying... "Let's see if we can get you into this." The machine has a "bed" slab that I have to crawl my butt over a four inch piece of plastic to get onto the bed. No help from the lady except for her cramming a pillow under my knees... and she reaches over the top of me to try to reach the pad on the other side of me that needed to be connected to the side she was on. So literally... she is stretched across me... laying on my... and my sore back that has been tortured to get onto this slab of hard plastic. This lady is groaning as she is having trouble reaching... and I pick up the pad she is reaching for... and give it to her. She buckles it around me and begins to slide me into the machine all the while pressing on my abdomen as to "make me fit". It does not work... and she says... "If we only had a half an inch..."

Fat people don't need to be reminded they are fat. It is quite obvious to us. I think that we are the first ones who realize that we are fat. I think I knew that I was fat... way before she ever turned her hair that fake blonde. Anyways... the machine and I do not mesh... I don't fit. The lady has no bedside manner for helping a flea... let alone a human. I ask her to try one more time... only to take the pillows out from under my knees and maybe that would lower the part of my abdomen that did not seem to have enough room. She said to me that she couldn't see trying it again because there just wasn't enough room. She said that if I had a problem with her and didn't believe her that basically it was my problem. I told her that I wasn't saying that she was wrong... God forbid... All I was saying was that I wanted to try one more time a different way to make sure. She hooked me up into that wrap around contraption... started the machine... and began to push down as hard as she could on my abdomen... like someone would push on an overstuffed suitcase that they just couldn't get closed. She then said that it just wasn't going to work... I was just too big for the machine. So I get up... very painfully with no help from the lady... I walked crookedly back into the little room with the bench and the locked drawer to get my things. She came into the little room and said that she was going to call my doctor to tell them that it just did not work and that she would be right back with me and she would walk me out. As I was getting my shoes and everything else put back on... I could hear her laughing in the other room just on the other side of the wall from me while she was talking to someone... be it on the phone or in person... I did not think to highly of the fact that she was laughing. I waited for her for what seemed an eternity then I decided to just leave. I could find my own way out of that place. As I stood just outside the door to leave... she came into the room and said... "Oh, you can find your own way out?" I said yes. Then she told me that the "only other option that she could think of for me was that there was a veterinary MRI in Pullman that I might be able to fit into." I said thanks as I started walking down the hallway. I think I barely heard her say "Have a good day". I just kept on walking. I left that place in tears. Another lady... well dressed... noticed that I had tears welled up in my eyes and she said... "Sometimes these places can be a little overwhelming... can't they?" I said yes... I guess you could say that. She smiled at me as one little tear was finding it's way down my cheek and I walked out the door. By the time I got to the car I was full fledged bawling. My husband and daughter was waiting for me in the car... and they asked how it went. I told them everything and that they could not do the MRI. I told them why. I also told them that the lady might as well have told me to go to Pullman to the Hippopot-Rinoso-saurus MRI. I felt so humiliated... so very humiliated.

Since that day... a week had gone by. We, as a family, had decided way before this time to try to eat less... and eat things that are better for us. No fast food... and to just stay away from alot of junk that is totally unhealthy and loaded with sodium and all that nasty crap that people put into things. We have been doing pretty good. I have taken a salad to work for my lunch for a week. Enjoying every minute of trying to do better. I have managed to go to work... hurting... but I have made it. Then one night... I was hurting worse than I have ever hurt before in my life. I couldn't even get into the shower. The pain was so intense. I had just talked and prayed on the phone with my friend Thelma. There has always been this question in the back of my mind... "What am I going to do if I cannot work?" "How are we going to make it?" Thelma always tells me that she notices in our talks... and in some of the things that I write about that I always say that I am the sole provider for my family. That is true. I have said that... because that is the way I have felt for the past nine years. Then she asked me... "Who really is your provider?" I knew the answer is God. Has been God. All my life it has been God. Then we talked about the posssibility that I might have to stop working to allow myself time to heal. So... I seriously looked at that. I knew that going to work every day was not helping me one bit. So... I managed to finally get into the shower. The shower for me has always been a great place to talk to the Lord. Kind of a place for TOTAL cleansing of body, heart, mind... you know? I told God that he needed to stop seeing how much I can handle. You know that saying that the Lord won't give us anything we cannot handle? Well... I could not handle anymore pain. I was done. Finished. As I sobbed I told God that I give up... I am done. Before my shower I asked my husband what we would do if I had to quit work for a while. He said that we would have to cross that bridge when we come to it. Well.... after my shower... after giving up... I went into the bedroom and told my husband that I thought that it was time to cross that bridge. I told him that I was going to try and make it to work the next day and let them know that I needed another medical absence. Needless to say... he was mad... I was hurt... we didn't really cross that so called bridge... at least not together. I cried myself... hurting both emotionally and physically... to sleep. I woke up in pain... dressed myself for work... and went.

This was a morning (Wednesday Nov. 9th) that I worked at 4:00am. On those days I work basically by myself until 5. Then I am still more or less alone because the other person is busy doing their own stuff. As I was working that day... I noticed that I was walking with a little more ease than usual... and I was ahead of my usual schedule... meaning I was actually working a little faster. By the end of that day... I got done 5 minutes early... and went home. I hurt after I got home... but I noticed that I had had a great day at work. I thanked God for it.

I went to work the next day... (Thursday Nov. 10th)... once again having an awesome day... barely hurting at all. I had a very busy day this day as I had to prepare a larger quantity to gear up for Friday. I ended up staying 45 minutes over... and still not hurting very much. Again... I went home... thanking God for my day.

Thursday when I got home... my doctor's nurse called me. She apologized so much for the experience I had at the first MRI. I hadn't told her a thing about it... but I think that my husband had. I told her that it was ok... it wasn't her fault. She told me that she had made me an appointment with a different NEW facility in Spokane. She said that they would try an MRI... and if not an MRI then they would definitely do a cat scan. She made me feel a little hopeful... but I was not holding my breath.

Finding enough money for gas to get there ended up being a blessing from God. We had enough to get there and enough left for me to continue to work for the rest of the week. ((Thank YOU!)) We finally found this new facility... and seriously... IT WAS BRAND NEW. Just recently built in fact. I walked into this place and found where I was supposed to go. The waiting room was so quiet and homey and comfortable. The lady at the front desk was very professional... but she had a genuine niceness about her. I sat down to fill out my paper work... and within 5 minutes of turing it back into her... a very petite little lady came out. She was wearing a nice jean jacket with a lime-ish green polo type shirt under it. She had jewelry... cute little glasses... she was so sweet. She said her name was Erin. She talked with me... asked me how I was. I told her that I was actually doing pretty good so far that morning. She took me into this little room... this beautiful little room. It had two chairs in it... and a little piece of furniture that reminded me of a miniature armoire. It had a little skeleton key that locked it. Very impressive.... very home-like. She looked me in the eye. She said that she was going to do everything possible to make this comfortable for me. I told her that I hoped that I could fit into the machine. She said that what she was going to do was wrap a sheet snugly around my waist to compress the tissue. She said that she didn't think we would have any problems at all. She told me that she would put a fan at my lower part of my body to cool me off while I was inside the machine. She said that if my head and upper body got too warm that she could get me a cold cloth for my forehead. She told me that she would need me to lay with my arms above my head for the procedure and asked if I thought that would be ok. I told her that I would do anything to make this work. She told me to take off anything that would have metal in it... put it into the closet and when I was done she would put the key on the window ledge in the room. After I got finished... she brought me into the room across the hall. It was warmly lit with soft-on-the-eyes lighting... in the middle of the room was this big ominous machine... that just didn't look so big. Right above the place that you lay down on... was this light cover over their lights in the ceiling... it was a plastic cover that looked like a beautiful blue summer sky with dogwood blossoms... it reminded me of laying on my back in the grass looking up through the branches of a dogwood tree at the heavens. She got me a little stool with a long sturdy handle to step up onto the bed in the machine. There was a sheet neatly folded and a pillow laying on the bed. I, with help, stepped up onto the bed and very easily laid myself down on the bed of the machine. The lady, Erin, put ear plugs in my ears because she explained to me that the machine was noisey and having less of the noise for me would make the tests more comfortable. As I laid there... hands and arms raised above my head... I was gently moved into the tube. The test began... I was relaxed... and even though there was absolutely no room for me to move in the tube... I was still able to breathe. The machine radiated alot of heat during the tests... but I seemed to do just fine. I remember laying there... looking up at the dogwood blossoms thinking... I should be in excrutiating pain laying like this... but... Praise God! I WAS COMFORTABLE! (I actually almost fell asleep once)

She spoke to me through the whole time. At the end of each test she would ask me if there was anything I needed and if I was doing ok. At the end of the test... after I sat up... was when the pain was horrible. I could not move. They waited patiently for me to be able to take the time to move. I actually could not stand on my own because the pain was so great. A tall husky man walked in the room in a plaid shirt and jeans with a beard. He got on one side and she got on the other. Each one holding me up as I took very slow and painful steps across the hallway to where my stuff was so elegantly being stored for me. After I got to the room... the gentleman had gone and got me a glass of water... which I more than happily took a couple of my pain pills. I was able to take my time getting ready. After a while I was able to get completely ready except I could not tie my shoes. I started to walk out the door... and the lady came out of the room across the hall and said... "Oh let me tie your shoes for you." She got down on her knees on the floor (which was carpeted... by the way)... and tied my shoes. She even knotted the laces for me like I like! After she tied my shoes... I told her of my experience at their competitor... and I asked her if I could give her a hug. We gave each other a hug and I thanked her so much for all that she had done for me. I told her that her building was absolutely gorgeous. She said that they still had some finishing touches they were doing but that they were trying.

I told her... "You all ready have the finishing touch done on the most important part of this place... you care for your patients."

She walked me out the door.

I left that place wanting to invite the whole bunch of them to Thanksgiving dinner!

I slept last night... for the first time in a long time... SLEPT! I did not wake in pain once. My daughter woke up and said..."Oh my God... I slept soooooo good mom! You didn't wake up once." My husband made the same types of comments. I was so happy that I could get up and go to the bathroom... WITH NO PAIN. I enjoyed the morning with my family... I called my friend Thelma to share my joy with her... I actually got dressed on my day off... I sat outside in the brisk autumn sunshine with my family and my dog... basking in the Lord's blessing of such a wonderful day.

My back still has some pain... I laid down this afternoon... and it was hurting again. I am slowly feeling the differences of possibly getting better. I am very cautious of my movements... and I am careful with each step I take. I had not taken any pills of any kind... be it muscle relaxers or pain meds until right when I laid down this afternoon... I took two pain pills... and was able to rest for a couple hours comfortably. I have some pain in my back as I write this. Monday my doctor will have the results from my MRI... and I suppose I will make another visit to him to see what his plans are for me.

God is so wonderful. When I gave up... completely... gave up............. he stepped in to carry me... and I felt his strength. I begged for his strength for so long... yet I was still fighting it MYSELF. When I was so determined to "do it on my own"... it was only getting worse. Only when my exhausted emotional sheet had been tossed to the wind and completely ripped apart with nothing left... I gave up... and God was able to step in and make things happen. Who is it we are fighting? Well... I think we fight ourselves as well as the devil. Sometimes we fight with God too... don't we? I know I did.

So... through this whole time... and moreso now... I think of my mother. She endured so much pain in her life. I remember her telling me that they took x-rays of her spine and there were clawlike spurs all down her spine that they could not do anything about. I remember her being in such horrible and uncontrollable pain at times it would make me cry watching her not knowing what to do for her. My mother... was the strongest lady I have ever met. My friend, Thelma, says that I am a strong woman. I have yet to feel that way. It is only God's strength that ever brings me through things... I always give up first. My Mamma... she was strong. She lived her life to the very end fighting illness and pain. The last bit of hope that I ever saw in her eyes was when she found the following verse at the one and only bible study that Thelma and I were able to have with her before she died from the cancer...

"As for you, go your way till the end. You will rest, and then at the end of the days you will rise to receive your allotted inheritance." Daniel 12:13

She knew then... that the true hope of life after death... was going to be hers... and she could rest in the arms of Jesus. Is that hope? You bet it is! It is the best of all hopes. So... why not rest in the arms of Jesus now? I am more sure today... than I was three days ago... that He wants to comfort us.

More than just comfort... The Lord wants us to let Him be our strength. I begged for his strength... I begged for his mercy... I begged for his comfort... then I turned right around and fought with him about it. It is hard to be coherant when you are fighting through so much pain. Who gets the glory? Well... it sure is not going to be me. God gets the glory and the praise. All of it.

These verses stand out to me tonight.

"To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong." 2Corinthians 12:7-10

So... what is with this picture again?? Let me tell you. This is a stamp art piece of cardstock paper that my daughter brought home from school one day and gave to me. Forget-me-nots are very meaningful to our family. When my mother was going through some of the hardest times in her life... my little... then 5 year old twin brothers... used to play at the park in our home town. There was a little creek that ran through it. They would play in the water in the heat of summer and my mother would sit on the banks watching them. They would pick all of the forget-me-nots that their tiny little hands could carry and run to my mother and put the little tiny purple flowers all over in her hair. I remember watching them do it. Us kids brought her hard life such wonderful happiness. When she finally went home to Jesus... my brothers once again put those tiny little flowers all over her hair. When I had her grave stone made... etched into the marble in one corner... was a butterfly sitting on a few little tiny flowers made to represent forget-me-nots. In quotes... at the bottom etched into the marble... "Forget-me-not... See ya in heaven!"

I learn daily through my struggles... I seek the face of Jesus... I have found the hope that my mother had... the hope of one day never having to suffer on this earth... but "to go your way till the end. You will rest, and then at the end of the days you will rise to receive your alloted inheritance." Until the end... I will give all praise and glory to God for each and every breath I take.