Intro to my Gastric Sleeve Journey

So, back in October I told ya'll that I was planning on having vertical sleeve gastrectomy. Well, the journey has begun. I met my surgeon a couple of weeks ago, had a ton of pre-op stuff done, and am scheduled for about three weeks from now.

I did a video giving a brief explanation of why I'm having VSG. It's a little dark, and it starts raining partway through, so the sound quality isn't the best, but sometimes the car is the only time I can find to get these done! Enjoy!

Colonoscopy Results

Well, my colonoscopy went reasonably well. My colon is clear, good, not one polyp or anything. My upper GI tract however... not so much.

According to my gastroenterologist, my entire upper GI tract (esophagus, stomach, and duodenum) is inflamed, and I have numerous ulcers. They took multiple biopsies from each location and I should have the results in about 2-3 weeks. While we don't have a definite diagnosis yet, my doctor believes I have gastroduodenal Crohn's disease. If he's right, I suppose we'll be starting another journey down that road as soon as we get the results.

I'm trying to get more into vlogging, as that seems to be the thing lately. They're not the best. I clearly need to invest in a tripod or something. But there here. This one gives a little more info on how my procedure went. Enjoy!

Colonoscopy Prep

So... back in December I met with my gastroenterologist for a regular appointment, as I was overdue for my colonoscopy. In addition, he wanted to review the results of the labwork done on the kidney stone I had back in late October-ish. Ends up, it's "the bad kind" of kidney stone.

So lucky me gets to have a scope put down my throat to check my upper GI at the same time as my colonoscopy. Fun fun.

Here's a video I made as I prepped for the procedure. I'm new at this whole vlogging thing, so cut me a little slack (helpful tips are appreciated though). Enjoy!

Kidney Stone

I recently had my first, and hopefully only, kidney stone.

I would like to start by apologizing to anyone in my life who may have previously had kidney stones and for whom I did not show appropriate sympathy and support.

I had no idea it was even possible for them to be so bad. No idea.

Here’s my experience:

*******************

On Friday, the 21^st I awoke with a slight pain in my right lower quadrant. Pain level 1-2. Annoying, but nothing more. I was expecting my monthly visitor any day, so my initial thought was some weird sort of cramp.

My husband & I had plans to attend a Homecoming Alumni Reunion for my university, which was also supposed to be our fancy night out for our anniversary. He took a vacation day from the fire house. We had this booked for months and I was really looking forward to it.

By the time we left my pain was maybe the 3 – 4 range. Worse. Still annoying, but not bad enough for me to even consider changing our plans.

During dinner, the pain escalated to the 6-7 range. While listening to the speakers, I contemplated how much longer I could stay. I really wanted to hear a few of them that hadn’t been up yet, and there were old friends I spied across the room, but hadn’t had a chance to see yet. But I couldn’t ignore the pain, and I told Jason we needed to leave.

At this point I’m still thinking maybe we just go home and I lie down. But in the car the pain worsened. I tend to be a “wait it out” kinda gal, but I tried to think of what I would tell my sister if she called and asked me what to do.

“I think you should take me to the hospital.”

And so we went. As we waited on triage, my pain intensified. 8…9… I’m not one to take the pain scale lightly, it will be rare for me to tell you my pain is ever over a 5 or 6. But that day? I hit a 9.

They gave me some pain meds to dull the pain while trying to assess my condition. Most of us seemed to think it was likely appendicitis. I think this was mostly because my pain was exclusively in my belly, no back pain at all, which is common with kidney stones. Also, ends up if you’re a man and have right lower quadrant pain it’s pretty much either appendicitis or kidney stones. If you’re a woman though? The doctor listed off about 20 different possibilities: appendicitis, kidney stones, ovarian cyst, ectopic pregnancy, etc, etc, etc.

We were fairly certain of the answer though once they got my urine sample. I could tell by looking at it that something wasn’t right. Sure enough, there was quite a bit of blood in the sample. Most likely diagnosis changed from appendicitis to kidney stones. I was sent off for a CT scan which confirmed I had a 7.5 mm kidney stone lodged in my ureter (the tube that connects the kidney to the bladder).

Apparently this is considered a “huge” kidney stone. I got lots of sympathy and better pain meds after that. Truth. I was also admitted.

I awoke the next morning feeling much better. Pain was almost non-existent, at a 1, maybe a 2. I could definitely feel that something was going on, but it wasn’t bad at all. The nurses seemed relieved, but a little confused. An X-ray later that morning explained why my pain was all but gone: the stone had floated back up into the kidney. No longer lodged in my ureter, it no longer caused pain. In fact, by the end of the day my pain was completely gone. They discharged me Saturday evening with some Vicodin to take as needed and an appointment to have a lithotripsy (using sound waves to break up the stone) at the urologist’s outpatient facility on Monday.

Monday I headed to the outpatient facility. It was not a good experience. Registration went fine, I suppose, and getting set up. Met the doctors. The procedure went well. But coming out of anesthesia? Well, it always takes me a long time. That day was no exception. I don’t know how long really. I know one of the nurses was extremely rude, ignored my cries of both pain & nausea, and refused me pain meds because I “just need to calm down”. I eventually told her off, she left, and I got another nurse. Funny thing, if you actually treat your patient’s pain & nausea, and treat them with a tiny bit of compassion, they are able to calm down much sooner, and start to come around better. Even so, even with a nicer nurse that addressed my needs, it was still made very clear to me & my husband that I was not coming out of the anesthesia quickly enough to suit them. This was never made more clear than when I was sent home in a hospital gown, because I wasn’t able to dress myself yet.

You read that right. They asked if I could stand up and get dressed, I told them no. I vaguely remember kind of falling back onto the bed as they stood me up. They put me in a wheelchair, handed my husband a bag with my clothes in it, and wheeled me out to the sidewalk in front of their building in a hospital gown and panties. Waited for Jason to pull the van around, and loaded me in the car that way. Nice, huh?

Over the next two days I passed bits of stone. Tiny. Like sand. Honestly didn’t even feel them most of the time and only knew because they had asked me to strain my urine and keep the pieces.

That Thursday I had a follow up appointment scheduled with my primary care physician. I had been feeling better, so decided to drive myself. At this point, it was just Jena & myself. My parents kept Jillian for me while I was recovering, and we thought if anything Jena would be a helper for me. Jason went back to the firehouse for the first time in three shifts.

I had mild pain that morning, but nothing bad, and nothing more than I was expecting. I had had pain off & on since the lithotripsy anyway. However, on the drive home from the doctor, my pain rapidly escalated. It’s kind of ironic. Went to the doctor, told him I was doing well, pain was minimal, everything looks good, then on the drive home my pain skyrockets. It was difficult to drive.

Got us home and laid down. Called Jason & my mom to let them know. Called Jason again and told him to head home please. He’s an hour away.

My pain goes up even more. I start vomiting from the pain. My poor little eight year old is bringing me a bucket to puke in and listening to me moan & wail in pain. I call Jason back and ask how far away he is. Twenty minutes. I beg him to hurry.

Honestly, when I knew he was that far away I probably should have called 9-1-1. As the wife of a first responder, I don’t take that lightly, but I really should have. The pain was that intense.

I called Jason back. How far away? Five minutes. I tell Jena to get her shoes on and get my purse. I slip on some flip flops, grab a bowl for vomit, and stumble out to the minivan. We wait for Jason to arrive. He pulls in, jumps into the van, and we take off.

Things become a blur at this point. I know I vomited a few more times on the way to the hospital. I know Jason signed all the forms at the emergency room because I wasn’t able. I don’t remember going for any tests, but I must have, because at some point we were told that a 2x3.5 mm piece of my original stone had lodged in my ureter. Again.

Got some good pain meds, fell asleep at some point, was admitted at some point. Slept off & on.

One of the urologists came to see me the next morning. He gave me my options:

·         Be discharged with some better pain meds and try to pass the stone on my own, not knowing how long it would take

·         Stay in the hospital and have it removed surgically

I chose the latter. Having already been hospitalized twice for this thing, I didn’t want to be discharged only to end up back in the hospital after another day or so.

Surgeon came to see me later, and surgery was scheduled for that evening.

I’m so glad I did. After the surgery, when the surgeon came to speak to my family, he informed them that my ureter narrowed to an extent that it would have been physically impossible to pass the stone on my own. He removed the stone, looked around to confirm there were no more stones, and inserted a stent to help keep my ureter open while it was healing.

I again took a long time to come out of anesthesia. This time I was at the hospital though, so no one kicked me out. I was in recovery for roughly three hours. I vaguely remember the nurse telling me over and over to take deep breaths. I think my pulse ox kept going low.

By the time I got back to my room it was after 9pm. Pain was minimal. Discomfort from the stent was pretty high, but that was to be expected. And I had to pee literally every 20-30 minutes. Also to be expected, although the nurses did inform me that I actually do have a small bladder. Fun. By the morning I had managed to stretch out time between bathroom breaks to 45 minutes.

Was released the next day and told that I could expect “mild discomfort” from my stent, and zero restrictions on my daily life. Free to resume life as normal.

{{ insert hysterical laughter }}

The discomfort from this stent was awful. Awful. Horrible. The worst feeling you can possibly feel without crossing over into pain. I felt it inside me 24/7. There was no way to get comfortable. None. By basically living in a recliner I was able to get comfortable enough to make it tolerable. That’s about it. Urinating was the worst. I was able to stretch it out to about an hour between bathroom breaks, right at two hours if I was sleeping. A little less than an hour if had recently eaten.

Truly a horrible experience. I have no idea how they can call this “mild” discomfort, or how they can say you can resume normal life. I kept think how if I were still working outside the home I would be forced to either drain my vacation time or take as much Vicodin as allowed and try to muddle thru the work day, and still not sure it would be possible. Seriously, awful.

Originally my doctor wanted me to have the stent for 10 days, and remove it under general anesthesia. After my second day home, I called the nurse and talked with her about how much discomfort I was having. She assured me it was normal (so, again, why do they tell you it’s “mild” discomfort?!?), but said she’d talk to the doctor. She called me back the next day. He agreed to remove it after only 7 days and under a local anesthetic.

Yay!!!

I powered thru a few more days, then went in for the removal.

It was so easy!

Seriously. From the time they started until the time they finished was only seven minutes. It took longer for the nurses to take my vitals and get me checked in as a same-day surgery patient than it took to do the procedure. They used a local anesthetic in the form of a numbing cream, and consequently what I felt was essentially as much discomfort as a yearly gynecological visit. Some pressure, little bit of a pinching feeling, little more pressure, done.

I honestly have no idea why they would put anyone under general anesthesia for this (assuming they had no other complications). I’ve heard it can be a bit more uncomfortable, and possible a little painful, for men because they have a longer urethra, but I’m still not convinced it would be worth the risks of undergoing general anesthesia.

I immediately felt much better. There is still some (actually) mild discomfort when I urinate, or when I stretch. I occasionally get a crampy feeling in the general bladder area, it gets worse if I’ve been walking, better when I sit. Other than that, I feel back to normal. It was an amazing difference having the stent out. I feel like myself for the first time in the past two weeks.

{{ side note: I’m currently watching Parks & Recreation via streaming Netflix, and this episode Ben just got diagnosed with kidney stones. Irony. Ha. }}

On a side note, I’ve been struggling with daily gastrointestinal problems for over six months. Every day. It got to the point where no over-the-counter meds were controlling it. Have an appointment with a GI in two weeks for some testing because my primary care couldn’t figure out what was going on, all his tests were normal. Since this kidney stone issue came up, I’ve had ZERO issues. I think it’s still too soon to tell, but I’m hopeful that maybe somehow my gastro issues were related to my kidney stones and now everything will be resolved. Crossing my fingers!

Thanks for checking in everyone! Hope you never, ever have kidney stones!

Health Update

Yesterday was a blur of hospital appointments.

Couple of issues going on. I was trying to deal with them one at a time, but it appears that is just not how it's going to be.

First of all, I had a mammogram. A little over a year ago my routine mammogram revealed spots on my left breast. Probably benign, but warranting follow up. Three mammograms later, and they're telling me it's still "probably" benign. Apparently they standard of care is to follow up with repeated mammograms for two years. If there is no change within two years, then it's considered safe and I go back to routine yearly mammograms. Obviously if there is change, then we start a whole new ball game.

Secondly, I've been having gastrointestinal issues for quite a long time now. Months. Started out as occasional nausea, then more frequent, some bowel issues, heartburn... you name it and it's gastro, I had it. I treated with various over the counter meds. I tried cutting out different foods. The meds helped ease the problems somewhat, but nothing really seemed to really help. Over the past few months it has become more and more frequent, and more severe, until now I'm sick every single day, and the past few days the nausea in my stomach has turned into a dull ache in my abdomen. As in, painful. I finally gave in and saw my doctor.

My gastrointerologist couldn't see me until November, so I went to see my family doctor. He's not sure what's going on, but he's leaning toward the problem being my gall bladder. I have a CT and bloodwork scheduled for next week, a follow up appointment with him in a month, and a referral to my GI after all. He also gave me a prescription to help with the symptoms to take as needed, and I have to say I do think they are working. So that's a positive, I guess.

And then there's my metabolic disorder and related weight issues. It's been roughly a year since I had to discontinue my endocrine meds. I did meet with a couple of doctors, including the surgeon about the the surgery my endocrinologist wants me to have. Unfortunately, my insurance company won't cover it, period. You see, it's a bariatric surgery. Vertical Sleeve Gastrectomy, also known as VSG or Gastric Sleeve.

Briefly, the reason my endocrinologist recommends this procedure is a little backwards from the usual reason, and is the reason it has to be this bariatric procedure, as opposed to others. You see, the part of the stomach that is removed during the surgery is the part of the stomach that creates some of the hormones and other chemicals that are out of whack for me. It is for this reason that this is the optimal choice for me.

In fact, in what was for me a surprising additional confirmation for me to have this procedure, at my yearly gynecological visit earlier this year, my gynecologist also recommended the procedure, having no knowledge that another specialist had already done so. The reason? Well, my weight for starters. But... he specifically noted that because of the change in hormones induced by the VSG, there's a good chance it would also help improve some of my gynecological issues as well.

My husband is on board. The more I learn about the procedure the more I'm convinced it is the best choice for my long term health. Unfortunately my insurance company seems to disagree. So... we're waiting for some financial items to fall in line, and hopefully we'll be able to proceed early next year.

In the meantime, I now weigh more than I have ever weighed in my entire life, and am bigger than I have ever been. In fact, even though I know expecting a big result is futile, I've started utilizing meal replacement shakes just to keep my waistline from growing further, mostly because I can't afford to expand my wardrobe again. It's depressing, I hate the way I look. But I keep trying to look to the light at the end of the tunnel and know that a year from now my weight, and more importantly my health, should be much improved.

So, that's about it health wise. Seems like there's a lot going and nothing going on all at once.

How are all of you doing?

Has it been three months already?!?

I can't believe it's been nearly three months since my last post. Life has been a whirlwind.

So how about an update on that situation. The side effects of my meds continued to worsen, so after much discussion with my endocrinologist & my husband we decided to discontinue.

So... what next? I have a metabolic disorder. Left untreated the expectation is my weight will balloon rapidly and I will be diabetic within 5-10 years. With my family history, heart disease & arthritis are already losing battles.

So I can try another cocktail of meds, but the truth is I've been on almost everything available over the past 5 years with moderate results. And no matter what they are there is a risk of side effects, many of them serious. You know when your doctor has you sign a waiver... Even prior to my issues I was struggling with my situation being that I was risking my life with side effects to save my life from the disorder. Is that really much of a trade-off?

I can try a liquid diet, hoping the drastic weight loss will lessen my symptoms. It's not permanent, no part of it is covered by my insurance, costs several thousand dollars, sets a bad eating example for my daughters, and even if it's effective in the weight loss will not actually resolve my condition at all, just lessen symptoms and basically buy me time. For what, I'm not sure.

I can try it on my own again. But considering I have been trying (and failing) to lose weight for the past 28 years, know that I have a metabolic disorder that makes it highly unlikely I will succeed without medical intervention... it seems like a recipe for depression & feeling like a failure.

Or I can have major surgery. My endocrinologist thinks I'm an excellent candidate, for a variety of reasons. The surgery he is recommending is 80% effective at treating my condition, and is permanent in 98-99% of those cases. And is likely covered by insurance. But it's surgery. Risks, and recovery, and what-not. Serious crap. So after much discussion with my doctor and my husband, and a lot of soul-searching on my part, we decided this was probably the way to go, and had a lot of peace about the decision... only to find out that my insurance plan does not cover it. I've been given the estimate that cash payment would be upwards of $13,000. Yikes. Not giving up on it yet, in fact I have my first appointment with the surgery center at the hospital tomorrow for an initial consultation, review of my case, etc. I guess we'll see what they have to say.

So right now, for the past 2 months or so, I've done nothing. No meds. Eating what I want (but not over-eating). I've already gained about 10 lbs, and the past week or so I've noticed the puffiness in my face returning that is one of the hallmarks of my disorder (it's water retention). I know I could make drastic changes to my diet & exercise to slow the gain, but I also know from past experience that it's not going to stop it. So I'm going to be really raw & honest with you right now when I tell you that I'm just trying to enjoy myself, love myself, and not worry about food. I'm trying to learn how to dress my body well, accept myself for who I am, and just enjoy my family and enjoy life. We'll see how my appointment goes tomorrow. Maybe I'll get surprise news about payment or something. Maybe we'll win the lottery, LOL. But other than that I'm going to enjoy the next few months and try not to worry about it. We have birthdays, anniversaries, multiple holidays... I just want to enjoy it, you know?

Well, as always, thanks for checking in!

Only Time Will Tell

So after delivering Jillian via C-section, I was in the hospital for two-and-a-half days before being released. Considering I was hospitalized for five days for my vaginal delivery with Jena, I think half that time for a C-section is pretty awesome.

I had a few issues in the hospital, minor I suppose. And I have no frame of reference since it was my first C-section, so maybe they're all common.

First of all, when they removed my catheter, it was excruciatingly painful to urinate. We're talking a 10 out of 10 on the pain scale. We're talking me sobbing on the toilet. And keep in mind that at this point I'm still on pretty good pain meds. But seriously, 10 out of 10. Horrible. That took a little while to improve, and by the time I went home it was no longer painful, but was still uncomfortable to pee. But within a few more days, all was back to normal on the pee front.

Secondly, I passed a large blood clot during my first shower at the hospital. Large as in, call my husband in from the other room, and we both pulled the cords to call the nurse. I'd say roughly four inches in diameter. Large enough that they weighed it. Apparently it didn't weigh enough to be of major concern, so I was told as long as I didn't pass any others I was good to go. And I didn't, so...

Lastly, I was having horrible abdominal pain, even on the pain meds. But, you know, only when I moved. But when I moved? Easily ranged from an 8 to 10 on the pain scale. Ouch!
And not at my incision site. What was frustrating to me about this is that I was told repeatedly that if I had abdominal pain not at the incision site, I needed to let them know immediately. But when I did, I was told it was probably just from my uterus shrinking back to normal size and was nothing to worry about. So is it serious or not? Seemed to be conflicting info. Hmph.

Then on my second day home I was seen at home by a nurse. She took out my staples and did a general check up. During the check up she again mentioned that if I experienced any abdominal pain not at the incision site, I needed to let them know. So I told her I was still having horrible abdominal pain and was nearly out of my Vicodin. She assured me that it was probably 'normal', and advised me to call my doctor for a refill.

So I called the office for a refill. The nurse asked me a bunch of questions, confirmed that I was still taking the max dosage of Vicodin, talked to the doctor, then called me back to tell me that the pain I was feeling was probably normal, they'd call in another two days worth of meds, but that was it, so I needed to begin weaning off of the meds immediately. Honestly, I felt like I was treated like a drug seeker. Keep in mind my abdominal pain is not at the incision site (my incision actually never caused me trouble), and when I moved certain ways, especially lying down or getting up, my pain was easily a 10 out of 10. It was excruciating.

I attempted to wean off of the meds, but was still experiencing horrible pain, so two days later, I called and insisted on getting worked in to see the doctor. So glad I did.

I have an infection in my uterus. He could actually see the redness thru the skin. I was put on antibiotics and given a stronger pain med and orders to come back three days later.

A couple of days on the antibiotic and there was noticeable improvement. By the time I went back for my checkup, even the staff commented on how much better I looked. The doctor agreed that it seemed to be clearing up, ordered me to make sure I finished the antibiotic as prescribed, renewed my pain meds, and gave me orders to come back immediately if the pain, tenderness, or redness worsened at any point, or to come in if after I finished the antibiotic I was still experiencing any pain or tenderness at all, as by the time the antibiotic was finished the infection should be completely cleared up.

So we'll see.

Honestly, I'm not very hopeful. I've been weaning myself off the pain meds, and will run out tomorrow. Antibiotics run out in three days. Though it is much improved, I still have pain. At times up to a 3 or 4 on the pain scale. And I'm a little concerned at how bad it's gonna be after I'm off the pain meds completely. And how bad it's gonna be once I stop the antibiotics. Because I'm thinking if the infection's not completely gone by the time I stop the antibiotics, then the minute I stop them it's probably gonna flare back up again. I guess we'll just have to wait & see.

So... because of the infection, I had "babysitters" round the clock for two weeks as I was both unable to perform routine menial tasks, was in near-constant pain, and there were health concerns. Though I'm super-grateful for everything they did, I am so glad to not have a house full of people constantly. This introvert needed time alone with her family. Seriously.

So that's where we are now. Hopefully the anti-biotic will finish clearing up the infection over the next couple of days and we'll really start seeing an upswing in my recovery. Only time will tell.

As always, thanks for checking in.

Check Your Boobs

I've been thinking about writing this post for a while now, but I'm having a hard time organizing it. So I'm just gonna ramble, okay?

******************

My mom is a breast cancer survivor.
My aunt is a breast cancer survivor.
My great aunt is a breast cancer survivor.
My friend from high school is a breast cancer survivor.
My co-worker is a breast cancer survivor.
My friend from college lost her battle with breast cancer.

In other words, I have been personally touched by breast cancer.

If you must know, I have had unexpected changes in my own breasts, so due to that plus my family history, have been getting regular mammograms since the age of 27.

Breast cancer, all cancer really, is a subject I take very seriously. Dude, cancer kills.

I've seen a lot of talk this year about pink. Everywhere. And there is, for some, a disdain for the pink.

source

Here's my take on the pink.

When my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer, yes, I wore some pink. For some reason I wore more after she hit her 5-year-clear mark. I can't tell you why. I don't know. All I know is that it has to do with my processing of her disease.

My mom has never worn a pink ribbon. Ever. It's not something she feels compelled to do. Though she hasn't said it, I think it has something to do with not wanting to be defined by the cancer.

I think sometimes, for some people - and by "people" I mean those personally affected by the disease - being able to outwardly show support for patients, survivors, and victims is part of the healing process. It's part of their need to process what is happening to them or to someone they love.

I also think, that if for one month of the year, if putting pink on everything gets just one person to perform a breast self-exam, or if it gets just one person to think "maybe I should schedule that mammogram I've been putting off"... if blasting the world with pink results in just one life being saved... then how can I have distaste for that?

My friend, Julie, died at the age of 33 after a years-long battle with breast cancer. THIRTY FREAKIN' THREE.

Julie, as I remember her, in our college years and full of life (source)

Here's the thing: Julie found her lump because the news was doing a thing on breast cancer and self-exams. She had no family history of the disease. She was healthy & in her late 20s. But she checked on a whim because a news program was doing a thing on self-exams.

So I know that people check their breasts because of things like news programs, or seeing a sign, or maybe even seeing the world splashed in pink.

So blast the world in pink. I don't even care if companies make money off the pink (as long as they're not misleading consumers). But show the pink. Wear the pink. But more importantly... check your boobs.

33 years old. I know for a fact that there are young women out there who did their first self-breast exam because of Julie's story. You see, Julie was very public about her battle with breast cancer. Like, go-on-the-local-news, tell-anyone-she-sees public. And because of her openness and candor about her disease, there are women who did their first breast self-exam because of her story.

33 years old.

Don't let Julie's death be in vain. I don't care how young you are, I don't care whether or not you have a family history of breast cancer, I don't even care if you're a man. Check your boobs.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to have a good cry over the loss of my friend, and then to feel myself up.

Here's hoping you're doing the same.

A Letter to the Well-Intentioned:

For the past few years,  you have been inquiring as to the size of our family, asking when we would bless Jena with a sibling.

For the past year, it has happened more frequently. One of you approaches me with this question at least once per week.

Quite frankly, it is none of your business.

Just as it was none of your business the first time around.

But for the record, here's the deal:

- in my younger years, I was informed by my physician to expect fertility issues. There is a very good possiblity that Jena is our miracle child.

- I had severe complications from my labor & delivery with Jena. This makes having another child really scary for me and my husband.

- I struggled with Post Partum Depression for over 2 years following the birth of my first child. This not only postponed the time until I was mentally well enough to even consider having another child, but also adds an additional concern to having another child.

- I've been struggling with pituatary issues for over two years, and have also dealt with various other health concerns.

- we have been trying to conceive, and suffered a miscarriage three months ago.
- I was recently informed by my physician, that because of my ongoing pituatary issues, I am most likely not even ovulating any more, and if we do conceive at this time, am unlikely to carry a pregnancy to term

So there it is. All laid out for you. Now you know the in-a-nutshell version of why we haven't had more kids yet. Thanks for reminding me weekly of some incredibly painful moments in my life. I especially enjoy when you do this loudly, and in public.

By the way, while we're at it, stop asking anyone when they're having kids, getting married, finding a new job, etc. unless the other person invites you to discuss that topic. Despite public results the path to getting to any milestone in life is a very private journey. So knock it off.

Thank you for your kind consideration in this matter.

-- Jodi

Colonoscopies aren't that bad. Honest.

Originally posted in 2011. This topic has been on my mind lately, due to several loved ones succombing to and / or battling different forms of cancer. This post is personal, and describes things we don't normally discuss openly. But I've also had two readers tell me that they scheduled their first (and overdue) colonoscopy because of what they read in my post. And for that reason, I believe the benefit outweighs any risk of "over-sharing". So I'm re-posting. Because colon cancer is a hateful, fear-mongering murderer, and every time someone getes a colonoscopy, I picture them punching colon cancer in the throat.

Background (for those who don't know / remember my story):
Back in 2011 I was having some serious gastro-intestinal (GI) issues - think the symptoms of food poisoning... for five months - when my family doctor was unable to find the cause, he sent me to a GI specialist.

My GI doc came up with four possible causes, one of which was colon cancer. He also said with my family history of colon cancer (my grandfather passed away as a result of the disease), I should have been having colonoscopies regularly for years now (not one of my other doctors ever suggested it, even though my family history was complete in their records).

One of the reasons colon cancer is such a jerk, is that by the time you have symptoms, you are almost always at stage 3 or stage 4. In other words, if you don't have preventative colonoscopies, and wait until you have a problem, you are on for the fight of your life. For your life. Literally.

Preventative screenings, like colonoscopies (and mammograms, and PAP smears, and skin checks, etc) save lives.

So read this. Find out what it's really like to have a colonoscopy. Then talk to your doctor about your family history and when you should schedule your first. Or if you insurance covers it, just go get one.

Original post:
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** warning: this post contains descriptions of bodily functions & body parts. Some readers may find it uncomfortable to read further **

Well... ends up, among the very few IRL folks who knew I was having this procedure done, most of them had a lot of questions. I suppose being a thirty-something year old woman having a procedure that most of them apparently thought was more well-suited for elderly men made me something of an oddity.

And the object of their curiosity.

So... I thought some of ya'll might be wondering too.

And... I'm hoping it might ease some fears out there, and maybe get someone to the doctor for this early-detection test, before it's too late.

So, what's my take?

It ain't that bad.

Honestly, the worst part was drinking the prep solution. Yuck! I honestly think that was the worst part of the whole thing.

My tests were on a Monday afternoon, so all day Sunday I was on a clear liquid diet*. That evening I took the prep. It took me 15 minutes to get it down. Sixteen ounces of nasty I tell ya.

And then... I waited.

The first time I felt something, I ran for the bathroom. It was gas.

Second time.... gas again.

Third time... still just gas.

But the fourth time? Jackpot.

I was on the toilet for 55 minutes. No lie.

And I will warn you, what comes out stinks. Like no other.

Have you ever seen those infomercials, trying to sell you a colon cleanse, telling you how that stuff has been sitting in your body for months?

I might believe it after that smell. Seriously. So bad. But only the first few times. Then it's practically odorless. Which is interesting, in & of itself.

Anywho... I exhausted the supply of reading material in our bathroom in no time, and asked Jason to bring me my laptop.

He complied, and I propped my feet on Jena's training potty, and proceeded to Facebook (I swear, it's the only time I've laptopped from the bathroom, promise).

But... my legs soon fell asleep being in that position, so... the laptop had to go.

The worst part about being stuck on the toilet? Besides, you know, being stuck on the toilet? Well, that and my legs falling asleep because I tried to laptop in there? I was B-O-R-E-D. I highly recommed stocking up on reading materials beforehand. I was not prepared.

But honestly... the, ahem,  action... itself, wasn't bad at all.

It's not like when you're sick. You don't feel bad in your stomach, there's no cramping, no pain... it just comes out.

I was very relieved at how easy it was.

Seriously.

Maybe I'm a little biased because I've been dealing with severe bouts of diarrhea for the past five months (you know, why I was having the procedure in the first place), but this was a piece of cake. It's not like being sick at all. It's just boring.

That... and tiring. Having not eaten all day, and then voiding yourself of whatever might have been left in your digestive system... my body was worn out. No energy at all.

If you have children, I highly recommend finding a sitter for the night (thanks Mom & Dad!). I also recommend no plans other than lounging on the couch in front of the boob tube.

Honestly, after the first round of... emptying... I didn't even have the energy to get on the laptop. I sat on the couch, catching up on my Netflix, pausing it about every 15 min or so for a potty break. Sometimes more frequently, sometimes less, gradually less... and less...

That went on for about three hours.

It is exhausting. But really... not bad. Not as bad as you'd think.

Went to bed about five hours after taking the prep. By then what was coming out was clear, and it was about 45 min between episodes. So I went to bed.

I usually get up at least once during the night to pee anyway, and when I did that, I had to do something else too. Other than that, I slept the entire night.

I had to set my alarm the next morning, to make sure I was up in time to take my 2nd dose of the prep.

Yep, they make you drink that yucky stuff twice.

This time, the resulting "action" is even easier. There's just not much left in there, you know? Although... surprisingly more than I thought there'd be...

Still trying to figure out how you go from clear at night, to brown in the morning....

Anywho... still on a clear liquid diet, but rested from my night of sleep, I managed to fold one load of laundry before running out of energy. And so I resumed my position on the couch. I could've fallen asleep, if I weren't running for the potty every so often.

About an hour before I had to leave I started getting an itsy bitsy hemorrhoid, but to be fair, I had just had one the week prior from all the pooping I was doing from my illness (or whatever), so... that may or may not be normal.

Time to head out for my appointment, and I decide to take the advice I was given and put one of Jena's diapers in my undies.

Since we had to be there at 1:45pm for a 2:45pm appointment, Jason wanted to hit McDonald's up for his lunch, so we stopped there. He got his food to go, while I visited the bathroom.

If it weren't for that pit stop, I probably would've needed the diaper.

Mental note - borrow a diaper from someone, buy some Depends, or stuff an old towel in your shorts for the drive to the doctor. I got that advice from three different people, and it's the best advice ever. Seriously.

Got to the office, signed in, went to the bathroom. Came back out & waited for them to call me up. They got my info, gave us some after-care instructions, and we waited for the nurse.

Now, since I was having a colonscopy, EGD, and multiple biopsies, mine might get a little different from the routine colonscopy here, but not by much.

They called me back, weighed me (seriously, liquid diet for 2 days & pooping my brains out, and only lost 2 lbs?!? are you kidding me?!?), and I went to the bathroom. Again. They put me in a hospital gown & booties, I got two hospital-y bracelets, they took my vitals, started my IV, and brought me a blanket. Then they brought Jason back.

Somewhere in there, I had to poop. Bad. Couldn't find my nurse, so I ended up pulling the call string. A different nurse came running. I felt kinda bad when I told her I just had to poop, but had my IV in, and she just smiled and said that they hear that a lot there, before grabbing my IV bag & helping me to the bathroom.

I pooped one last time.

Got back to my bed and after just a few more minutes they wheeled me in to the procedure room.

The nurse took all my vitals again, had me roll onto my left side, then the doctor came in. We chatted for a second, then they started the anesthesia.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Next thing I know I'm back in my bed and they're telling me to wake up and I'm yelling at them that I'm tired. Well, I was trying to yell at them, but Jason said it was barely a mumble because I kept falling back asleep.

I do a little too well on the anesthesia, I think.

Apparently Jason got me into the car & drove me home, because I slept on the couch until... sometime later, when I remember my parents bringing Jena home. I ate some Arby's in there somewhere too, but I don't really remember it, I just saw the empty bag sitting there. And then I fell asleep again.

I slept for about four hours at home in the afternoon, then nine hours overnight, and still had a hard time waking up the next morning, was groggy the entire day at work, and ready to fall asleep at any moment even into the evening.

Seriously, I do really well on anesthesia.

My throat hurt a bit from the EGD, but just minor discomfort that went away by evening.

And... to answer the question asked most frequently... no, my butt did not hurt. Not one bit. Honestly, would never know they'd been in there, if they didn't tell me. And I have a funny feeling they don't lie about stuff like that.

I'd like to repeat that: my butt did not hurt.
It did not feel weird. I did not feel violated in any way.

My annual gyno visit is way more invasive. Seriously.

Now, if you happen to be age 50 or older, and have not yet had a colonoscopy, or it has been more than 10 years since your last: GO! It's not that bad. My butt didn't even hurt.

If, like I do, you have a family history of colorectal cancer and/or colon polyps, and have never had a colonoscopy, talk to your family doctor about when to start, and how frequently to get them.

I'm good for another five years.

GO! It's not that bad. My butt didn't even hurt.

Sorry. I was asked so many times if my butt hurt, that now I just think it sounds funny to say that.

My butt didn't hurt!

Now, go!



* instructions vary per each specific test given, follow your doctor's instructions exactly


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As for my results, it was none of the bad possibilities. Ends up I was having a severe reaction to one of my medications, even though I had been on it for nearly six months before the symptoms started, which is why both my family doctor & GI specialist had ruled it out. Which is why I also tell people if they're having medical problems that they can't figure out, to look at their medications, even if they've already been on them for a while. You just never know.

Thanks for checking in, and go take care of yourself!

Overwhelmed

I have been feeling quite overwhelmed lately.

Not just busy, but... sinking beneath everything kind of overwhelmed.

Work is insane right now. Instead of my normal 40 different hats to wear, now I have around 60. Every day is a struggle to juggle it all, and I'm barely scraping by. At this moment I'm still managing to accomplish the needed, must-do tasks, but barely. And I can't shake the feeling that I'm always forgetting something.

With the holidays coming up, our lives have been jam-packed with event after event, plus there's shopping & wrapping & cooking & card sending & decorating to get done as well.

Our home looks like a disaster area. Only a slight exaggeration. I'm staying up late & getting up early. Averaging maybe 5 1/2 hours a sleep a night. And still barely managing to keep on top of the necessities (laundry, dishes, groceries).

I know my lack of sleep is probably contributing to this feeling of being beaten, but at the same time I don't see how getting more sleep and getting even less accomplished is going to help anything.

Besides all the things to do, all the stuff, I have a lot of praying to do. Join me?

My dad had surgery on his back.
Surgery & recovery are going well.
However, they still cannot watch Jena. Which means that for the past few Friday's we've had to make alternate arrangements.

My brother had surgery on his adenoids, throat, etc. (severe sleep apnea).
Recovery is not going well. Not sure of all the details, but he still cannot swallow. Everything he tries to take in, comes out his nose. Apparently this is normal for a day or two past surgery. We're on Day 5. He has also ended up in the ER once because he tried to swallow his liquid pain medication, choked, ended up coughing & gagging, and... he coughed up two of his stiches.

My uncle has been diagnosed with lymphoma.He started chemo yesterday. Eight hours.
They've also done some biopsies because they think it may have metastisized to his pancreas & bones.

My great uncle has been diagnosed with cancer.He has decided to forego traditional Western treatment and is using some alternative treatments to ease his discomfort.

A very dear friend, like family really, has been diagnosed with colon cancer.It has spread to his liver. So far treatments have not changed his condition or prognosis. But he is persisting. For now.

Jason's grandmother is very ill.She has been in & out of the hospital for the past few months. I don't know all the details, but I do know her last hospitilization was for a severe kidney infection. She was on IV antibiotics for four days, and was released to a rehab facility. As of right now, doctors will not release her to her home.
This may force her into a nursing home. Which, quite frankly, is what she needs. Her health has deteriorated and she really needs 24/7 medical care. Two of her daughters (including MIL) have been trying to take care of her, going to her home daily, administering medication, fixing meals, and taking blood pressure & blood sugar readings. But they still get phone calls during the day, during the night, whenever her illness strikes again, and they're back at the hospital. I really believe it is in her best interest to be in a home, but she is very adament that she does not want to go, and her daughters I think feel guilty about it, so aren't pushing the issue.

Each & every one of those weighs heavy on my mind & heart daily.

This is also our first holiday season without my father-in-law. I'm sure there will be some tears, but we'll get thru it okay. My mother-in-law? Not so optimistic.

So we are walking on eggshells (did we every stop?), answering her calls for help, trying to just be there for her. I'm not gonna lie, we could do better in this area. But I also couldn't tell you where we'd find the time either.

And while part of me says this is all just life, get over it, it happens, I also find myself feeling so very overpowered by it all. Sinking. Stressed out. Scattered. Unfocused.

And unable to pull myself out of the pile.

I also find myself wondering why.

I don't recall ever feeling so overwhelmed in the past. Even when life crashed down around me, this sense of losing control was never there.

I know that statistically, women who have PPD or other Post-Partum mental disorders are more likely to develop other mental illnesses in their lives.

I find myself wondering if this is me. If the reason I feel so steamrolled by life has less to do with how much is going on in right now, and more to do with my mind's ability to handle it all. Anymore.

Is this just life for me now? Will I become more easily overwhelmed by life as time goes on? Am I destined to become scattered & unfocused & overcome at the first sign of difficulty? Is that who I have become?

Maybe more importantly, is that who I have to be? Is there a way out? I certainly haven't found it yet. Is there even one to be found?

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I feel like this post is a bit... detached. Several topics not quite meshing together the way I'd like. But I've been holding on to it for several days, and keep re-reading it, and am not finding the way to make it all flow a bit better, so... here ya go. As always, thanks for checking in!

Addiction

I had someone ask me this morning what makes someone's behavior an addiction.

We were talking about someone that I believe is addicted, and she doesn't see it.

So, we talked it out.

Like, lots of people drink alcohol, what makes an alocoholic?
Lots of people visit casinos, how do you know who's a gambling addict?
Our entire country is filled with overweight people, who is truly addicted to food?
Every man likes sex, how do you know if he's a sex addict?
Most women like to shop, which ones are shopping addicts?

I finally came up with it: the difference is that an addict is no longer in control of their own behavior*. The desire for the object (alcohol, gambling, food, sex, shopping, etc) controls them.

An addict can lose everything, and still can't stop. An addict can know how destructive their behavior is, and still can't stop. It has reached a point where the activity is no longer a choice, it is a need.

Now, before someone says "oh, but they chose to (insert whatever)"... you're right.

They did choose to. At some point. In the past. And at some point they may have even realized they were on the brink of a problem. And they chose to keep going. But now? It's no longer a choice. They truly feel as though they need it (and in some cases their own bodies will perpetuate the lies - withdrawel is a witch). They cannot function "normally" without it.

Nine times out of 10, the addict is not:

- the person binge drinking every weekend. It's the person who can't go one day without a glass of wine.
- the person hitting the casino once a month and blowing their entire paycheck. It's the person blowing $25 a day on an online poker site
- the person stuffing their face with food the one night they're out with the girls. It's the person sneaking food at home after their spouse has gone to bed.
- the person who cheats on their spouse once. It's the person who can't stop looking at pornography.
- the person who goes on one shopping spree and blows their house payment. It's the person who spends $5 at Goodwill. Four times a week. Every week.

It's the mom who's been in & out of jail and rehab, and who the judge gives one last chance to be successful at stopping her drug use, or lose all parental rights to her children. And she sobs, and promises to clean up her life, because she does indeed love her children. But within just a few months is back in jail, all parental rights terminated.

It's the man who views pornography daily, then escalates to local personal ads, then begins an online flirtation, whose wife treatens to leave & take the children, and he chooses to walk away from "everything he loves" rather than get treatment.

It's the husband whose wife, whom he truly loves dearly, threatens to leave  if he doesn't stop drinking. And he's dry for about 2 months. But then he can't help himself. And his wife leaves him.

That's the difference. That's an addiction. When you don't know why you do what you're doing, but you can't stop, even at the threat of losing what you hold most dear... you are no longer in control. You are bound, a slave to your addiction.

That, is the difference.

* I am not a professional, and other than a random class here & there, plus my own experience dealing with addicts, am not actually qualified to make these statements. If you believe you or someone you love may be dealing with an addiction of any sort, please speak to your family doctor, or Google addiction support for your particular concern to find help near you.

Stupid Breast Cancer

*warning* I use bad words in this post. If you choose to read on, then deal with it. If you think you might be offended, then please stop reading. Thank you.

Before I say what I want to say, please go over to Baby Rabies, and read this post first. Because my post isn't gonna make a whole lotta sense until you do.



Okay, did you read it? Good. Now I can proceed. Because I really want to say:

FUCK YOU BREAST CANCER

I don't know why this woman's story has struck such a nerve with me, but it has and I am pissed.

How dare you?!? How dare you invade this beautiful woman, this loving mother, and put her & her family thru this?!? How fucking dare you?!?

You have no idea how badly I want to come up in there and KICK YOUR ASS right now!!!

She is a woman. A wife, a mother, a daughter, a friend. YOU HAVE NO RIGHT.

To put her thru this with a toddler at home and a baby in her belly is just cruel. But that is what you do best, isn't it? Cruelty?

Well, you know what? Screw you. She rocks, and is gonna beat you at your own game.

And guess what? She's got a helluva huge support group behind her.

God bless the internet.

So I'm doing the only thing I know to do to help: I'm spreading her story. Because FUCK YOU. She wants to breast feed her baby, and you're gonna take her breasts? Fine. Screw you. We got her covered.

I may not have milk to give, but I have a computer, and I have internet access, and SCREW YOU.

On that note, let's go folks. If you are in, or know someone in, the Orange County, California area and are able & willing to help, please follow the instructions over at Baby Rabies. If not, pass it on. Seven degrees of separation & all, we can all reach someone who can help.

Hey! I didn't get a holiday weekend!

*warning* this post may contain information that some may find icky. bodily fluids related to illness are mentioned. you have been warned.

From Wednesday night thru Sunday morning I was either taking care of someone with a stomach bug, or suffering thru it myself.

And probably the most severe one we've ever seen at our house, if you include severity + duration.

To give you an idea, the ELEVEN HOURS of non-stop... ahem, stomach trouble... that I went thru with only short breaks to pass out on the bathroom floor (not an exaggeration), I lost 7 lbs.

That's correct, I lost SEVEN pounds in roughly 11 hours. That was the worst of it, but all the symptoms didn't stop completely for another 24 hours.

Two days of eating normally later, and intentionally trying to re-hydrate, and I'm still down 2 lbs.

Jena (who had it first - stupid preschool) and I are still finding ourselves tiring more quickly than usual, but are otherwise okay.

I'd also like to ask why my child only gets the onset of stomach illnesses in the evening? Why?!? Is it so I can die of a heart attach at a young age because I have spent so much of her childhood in desperate fear of her aspirating on her own vomit?

Seriously. Every single time she has had a vomiting episode, it has started in the evening. We were blessed that her first one wasn't until she was two years old, but I vividly remember the horror of her walking into our bedroom to wake us up covered in vomit, her nighttime snack embedded in her hair, partially dried out.
You see, my child sleeps like a rock. She slept thru it. Visions of what-might-have-been flashed thru my head as I cleaned her up.

Since then, she's had several more (again, totally blaming preschool). Always starting in the evening. And she sleeps thru them. This last time it was early enough in the evening that I knew it was going on, and listened for her, running in to attempt to wake her up enough to position her over "the bucket". And then changing her sheets, because I was inevitably too late to catch it all.

I'm sure some of my anxiety this time is because what happened with my nephew is still relatively fresh. Visions of him in a coma, the doctors telling the family there is no hope... all still fresh. And all because he aspirated on his own vomit.

Because, let's face it, the fact is that whether it's due to a drug overdose, or an illness, the body's reaction is the same. The end result has the potential to be the same.

And it scares the crap outta me.

Blessings

Physical Blessings:

1) No serious medical issues yet this year
2) My back is stable (not worsening)
3) Jason is healthy & strong as ever
4) Jena is healthy & growing well
5) All the pets are relatively healthy


Financial Blessings:

1) We can feed & clothe our family, and pay our mortgage
2) We have good benefits, including affordable health coverage
3)  Our car is almost paid off
4) We are on target to be debt free (excepting the house) within 2 years max
5) We can afford a few extras


Mental Blessings

1) My issues with depression & anxiety appear to be (mostly) over
2) So far I see no signs that my PPD will lead into Clinical Depression
3) My job is providing me with enough challenges to stretch me, but not enough to stress me
4) Jena has tested above her age group in all developmental milestones
5) I haven't had writer's block in months


Spiritual Blessings

1) Mine & my husband's salvation
2) So many answered prayers & visible miracles
3) Continued growth in the Lord
4) Finding my "fit" in our church home
5) Spiritual battles won


Answered Prayer

1) TheBoy's miraculous recovery
2) Continued growth & healing in our marriage
3) Promises fulfilled
4) Safety for Jason on the job
5) Unspoken


Today's Blessings

1) We all woke up this morning (and healthy too!)
2) We both have jobs to go to
3) My parents watching Jena
4) We can talk during the day
5) Phone call from a friend

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this post inspired by this post

Got my results from the pulmonologist

After a chest x-ray, several breathing tests, and an entire panel of allergy tests, we have the results.

My chest x-ray was perfect. He said it's rare that they see such healthy lungs (yay me)

My breathing tests all rated me above the 100th percentile in lung function (yay me)
I'm crediting playing the trumpet for 20+ years, as well as never having so much as tried one puff of a cigarette.

Allergy tests were clear. They tested for 170 of the most common allergens in this area, including outdoor, indoor, and food allergies. Negative for all.

Final diagnosis is Reactive Airway Disease. The way the pulmonologist explained it to me (for my case at least), is as being like a very mild case of asthma, but so mild that he can't even really diagnosis it as asthma. Maybe that's just to help my understanding, but that's how he explained it.

He prescribed an inhaler.

I've been trying to get a cold the past few days, and had my first coughing fit last night. It wasn't that bad, really. Normally I would have barely noticed it.

But just a few days before I had gotten my inhaler prescription filled, and thought it would be good to test it out.

It worked.

After my 3rd coughing fit of the night, I decided to try it. I didn't have another coughing fit for five hours! After the 2nd one that time, I took another puff of the inhaler, and went seven hours without a coughing fit!

I've also noticed that within about 10 minutes of taking the inhaler, I really do feel a difference in my breathing. I guess in my world, it was just part of having a cold, something I didn't really notice. But now I can actually feel an improvement in my breathing, almost as if my lungs are actually able to take in more air.

And that's it, isn't it? They actually are able to take in more air, right?

This is so cool. While a small part of me laments not getting a proper diagnosis until I was 35, a much larger part of me is thankful that we have a diagnosis that I can give to FireGirl's pediatrician if her coughing fits ever progress to being as bothersome as mine where.

Here's hoping the inhaler does its job, and will continue to work even when the day comes that I'm having one of my trademark big are-you-gonna-die coughing fits.

Thanks for checking in!

"What you see is what you'll get"

Late last night I got a phone call to update me on my nephew's situation.

The neurologist sat down both parents today, and informed them that he believes TheBoy  has recovered as much as he will. Ever. His words to the family were "What you see now, is what you'll get."

He cannot come off the ventilator.

While he is breathing on his own, the part of his brain that controls how deep you breathe, among other things, is not responding at all. The part that tells you things like "breathe deeper", "you have too much spit in your mouth, you need to swallow", and "it's time to pee now" - that part.

So while technically he is not on life support... he will die without a ventilator to regulate his breathing.

His dad and birth mom are in agreement that TheBoy would not want to live like that. They plan to disengage the ventilator in the near future.

My sister & their youngest daughter are flying in from Iowa. As long as TheBoy was improving, they were staying in hopes that the girl could finish out the school year (I think she has 6 more days), but with this new news, they are coming in.

We don't have a date yet. They haven't decided on one. But nothing will be done before the rest of the family gets here.

They also want to give it "some time" to see if we get our miracle. But they don't want him to suffer needlessly for long.

They are putting in a tracheotomy, as well as moving the feeding tube out of his mouth & directly into his stomach, both in efforts to make him more comfortable.

The best of modern medicine says there is no hope.

On Healing, Faith, and Emotions

Yes, I believe God can and does perform miraculous healings.

Yes, I believe God sometimes does this outside of medical intervention.

Yes, I believe God sometimes uses medical intervention to perform healings.

Yes, I have faith that God will do this at the request of His followers, within His will.

Yes, all of these things give me hope.

Yes, I believe God sometimes says 'no', for reasons we may never understand.

Yes, I believe God sometimes says 'yes... but not how you would like'

Yes, these things occasionally make me feel sad.

**********************

When I had my accident, and for the four years thereafter, I had several people tell me I should attend a healing service, ask people to pray over my injury. I never did. Not because I thought He wouldn't, but because from the moment it happened, I had this feeling that I was supposed to go thru this, that this was my cross to bear. To ask to be healed of something I was supposed to go to seemed like a violation. When I did eventually have my surgery, the timing felt perfect, and to me it was no less miraculous than if I had been spontaneously healed years before.

***********************

For years before he passed, my father-in-law believed that if God wanted him to be healed, God would do it. He did not want medical intervention.

Looking back on the past few years, I honestly believe God brought him thru several heart attacks in the past 3 years, none of which even incapacitated him. I can think of three such episodes just off the top of my head.

Our entire family has had great comfort in looking back over his life, and believing that he died because it was time.

***********************

My nephew (let's call him TheBoy) has achieved incredible healing, that has been in direct opposition to what Western medicine has said his prognosis will be.

When his overdose first happened, we were told that within 48 hours the family will need to make a decision about life support (ie. whether or not to pull the plug). He was not breathing on his own at all.

Less than a week later, he can breathe on his own, he reacts to physical & emotional stimuli, he opens his eyes on command, his kidney failure resolved almost overnight, as did his liver failure.

We have gone from crying out to God to "JUST LET HIM LIVE!" (literally, I literally sat in my living room and cried those words to my Father), to asking him to be well enough to attend his sister's graduation party in 3 weeks.

Since the moment I heard of his overdose, I never had "the bad feeling", the feeling that precedes knowing someone will die (if you've had it, you know what it feels like). I have had a good feeling, an optimistic feeling, and I believed God would continue to improve TheBoy's physical condition.

Until today. I don't have "the bad feeling". But I no longer have the good feeling either. I feel strongly that God is saying this is it, this is as far as He is bringing TheBoy's physical healing.

I won't pretend to know why. And perhaps I am wrong. But I don't think I am.

My faith is still strong, and I believe God has a reason for this, we just don't know what it is yet.

And I am immensely grateful for God sparing TheBoy's life, and for the incredible improvements we have seen. I thank God for giving him another chance.

But still, I am sad. Dejected. I cannot think straight. The tears flow freely.

*update on my nephew*

My brother-in-law met with my nephew's neurologist. It's never good when they ask you to sit down.

He said that my nephew's entire brain is damaged. Not just a spot, not just a part, the entire brain. All that is left is to wait & see how much it will recover.

His brain stem is intact & working properly - which controls life essential functions like breathing, heart beating, etc.

But... the part of your brain that controls reflexes (breathe deeper, you need to swallow, it's time to pee) is not working at all.

He told the family to prepare themselves that he will never be the same. Even if when he wakes up, he won't be the same person anymore.

My brother-in-law is looking for jobs in Ohio (they currently live in Iowa), near where my nephew is, and has a possibility already lined up. My sister has started looking for housing in the area.

This is hard.

*updated* Calling on my prayer warriors: URGENT

My 18-yr-old niece was admitted to the hospital yesterday. Her blood platelet & white blood cell counts are way off. They are unable to control her fever, and she continues to worsen, even on what meds they've been able to give her. She is no in immense pain, and her body is swollen. After 36 hours in the hospital they still don't know what's going on, and are bringing in a team of specialists now.

Please pray for her ultimate healing, and for God to guide the doctors' minds to do what is best for her.

Also asking that you pray for safety her dad (my brother-in-law) has he is currently driving across 4 states to be with her.

Thank you so much for your thoughts & prayers!

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Thank you all so much for storming the gates of Heaven for my niece! Praise the Lord they are sending her home as soon as she stabilizes, because they finally got a diagnosis: a SEVERE case of mono!

Not 100% out of the woods yet. She was already dehydrated, but just started vomiting today, so that is a concern, and her fever is still there, but is now responding to meds.

But what a relief to have a diagnosis! And that it's nothing more serious!

I'll keep you posted, but Praise God from Whom all blessings flow!