My devotional today included Psalm 42:1. It says, "As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God." I never used to fully understand that, but this long ordeal our family has been through has clearly shown me the meaning. My Uncle Abe (a man after God's heart for sure!) used to speak of how he wanted to go home to be with the Lord. I would think to myself about how could he say that; why was he rushing to leave life. The older I get, the more I understand what he meant. It is not that you are rushing away from this life, rather that your soul is panting for God. The desire to be with Him grows stronger and stronger, your thirst for Him is grows and grows. This life is fine, I am not looking to end my time on earth, but I sure do desire the day when I can go to meet Him in heaven.
I will add a bit more to Len's story this morning, as many have asked me to do so. My thoughts are a bit rambly, so I will not be doing anything in chronological order. During his ICU stay so many things happened that it is hard to put them in order. I cannot do justice to all that happened.
One visit we went in to his room and noticed that he had a large red patch on his side. We mentioned it to the nurse and she said she had seen it and wasn't sure what it was. The doctor later said he believed it was cellulitis and that the antibiotics would treat it. On the next visit, the patch had grown in size and he had a rash on his neck and chest. This trend continued for several visits. Last visiting hours were 9:00 p.m. and we kissed his hand (the only thing we could reach because of all the tubes, wires, and the special bed he was in) and said goodbye for the night. The next morning at 9:15 a.m. visit we were shocked at his appearance when we entered his room. He was swollen unbelievably, covered in a scarlet rash and his skin was leaking serum from being so swollen. The rash was literally everywhere, even inside his ears! The nurse told us that he was having a bad reaction to one of the antibiotics. This was the first time of this happening but would not be the last. Antibiotics were changed and reaction after reaction occurred. A specialist was eventually called in to find an antibiotic that would work and that he could tolerate. For the remainder of Len's life, Matt and I were adamant that she be consulted any time IV antibiotics were to be given.
During this period of time, kidney failure had started and was progressing. A nephrologist (kidney specialist) was called in on the case and he told me that we were looking at dialysis at some point. Many had asked what they could do to help and here was where help was needed. I asked them to pray, to put him on any and every prayer list, and to spread the word for prayer any way they wished. I also asked them to be specific in petitioning God. So many answered this call to prayer that I was in amazement! And I am sure there were many more that I do not know about. One morning I entered ICU and was greeted by his nephrologist, who told me that we were at dialysis point within the next 1-2 days. My mother had suffered through dialysis before dying and I so badly did not want Len to have to go through that, even if he was comatose. More prayer. The next morning, the kidney doc was shocked and amazed to find that Len's kidney studies had actually improved instead of continuing the downslide. I smiled my first true smile in days because I knew the Master Physician had intervened. Praises went up and prayer for continued healing was petitioned.
In the first several weeks of the coma, his kidneys were "insulted", he reacted horribly to several antibiotics, he could not be moved around because his blood pressure and his oxygen levels would drop to the pits, his skin popped from the swelling, the opened wound on his abdomen leaked massive amounts of fluid, and his mouth developed huge sores that turned blackish in color. One day we went in to see him and one of our least favorite nurses of the bunch was taking care of him. She only shared minimal information and being a nurse, I always wanted numbers and details. Getting info from her was like pulling teeth on a camel. We were glad for shift change because one of our favorite nurses came on to care for him. When we came in to the room, she greeted us and gave us an update. She began talking about what had happened right before shift change before night shift and day shift the previous morning about something "falling off" and I had to stop her and tell her we had NO clue what she was talking about. She looked shocked and asked us if ______ day shift nurse had not told us about it. Well, she hadn't and had left that unpleasant task to the next shift. Apparently they noticed fluid leaking on the bed under him and took the risk of tilting him so they could see what was going on. To my horror, I discovered that his behind had literally fallen off!! He had a bed sore that was deep and so massive that his entire coccyx bone was showing and the wound was about a foot and a half by a foot and a half in measurement. I heard all this, but having never seen one this bad I could not even begin to imagine what it looked like.
I will stop here but believe me, there is way more to come. There would be several bouts of kidney failure, more antibiotic reactions (some of which the doctors told me would have killed him if he wasn't on the ventilator because of the swelling in his neck, mouth, and throat), and that bed wound would become a nightmare beyond belief for the rest of his days.
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Monday, June 2, 2014
The Saga Continues
I am feeling brave and less weepy today, so I will continue the story of our little family. After Len was placed in ICU on the ventilator, he seemed a bit better but still in a coma. On Sunday I told Matt to head on back to university because I felt sure the antibiotics would take care of things and his dad would soon be well. Was I so exhausted that I couldn't see the truth or was I just blinding myself to the truth?? He WAS NOT getting well soon and would undergo several weeks in a coma and wake to a physical nightmare later.
Matt returned to school and on Monday when I went for the first visitation hours of ICU, the nurse was waiting for me in Len's room. He was on 3 antibiotics, multiple drips for blood pressure and irregular heartbeat and others. He was swollen, pale, still, and they were giving him something to keep him in the coma because he had developed encephalopathy (brain irritation is the best I can describe). It finally sunk in just how bad the outlook was and I began to weep and told the nurse that my son was in Middle Tennessee about 1.5 hours away. I asked her to let me know if I needed to call him to return. She very quietly told me that I needed to call him and tell him to come now, not to wait till afternoon. I will say that the phone call to Matt was one of the hardest I have ever made. Family was called and they and many friends arrived to pray and say a possible goodbye.
I wish I could say I handled this all with grace and dignity, but the truth is that I wept and begged God for his life. I know we all face a day when a loved one passes on, but I just COULD NOT bear it to be him, not my best friend, my wonderful husband, my companion in all things. I covered his hand with mine and begged him to hear me and not leave me. I cried a river of tears, bargained with God, and prayed. There came a point where calm settled on me and I remembered the king in the Old Testament that was ill and dying and he turned his face to the wall and prayed. God healed him and gave him 15 more years. SO I turned my face to the wall at the head of Len's bed and asked God for the same thing. I felt a sweet peace descend on me and I knew that no matter what the answer was that God was with us and would not forsake us.
Matt arrived in time for the next visitation (that hospital is quite strict about the visiting hours in ICU) and we entered to find that a new cascade of events was taking place. Blood pressure support medications were at high drip rates, his kidneys were failing, and the surgical wound on his abdomen had to be opened and was pouring fluid out. We cried and held on to each other and slowly family and friends silently slipped in to say goodbye and pray. I remember begging him to wake up and tell me "I love you" one more time, but of course I knew he could not and would not at that time.
To the surprise of the entire staff, Len made it through the afternoon, then the evening, and finally through a long, tension-laden night. His temperature spiked to 104-105 degrees and he was placed under a cooling ice blanket. He remained there with only brief breaks for skin care reasons and each time his temperature would soar again. Yet he still hung on to the scrap of life in him! Visits were agony because each time we entered his room another bad event had occurred. I refused to move from the ICU lounge to even go to the cafeteria and my wonderful son, along with many caring friends, made sure I ate something and stayed hydrated. Matt and I were at the doors of ICU watching the clock tick the last minutes until the doors would open for visitation. Little did we realize that this would be the pattern for the next 2 months.
I will close with that and continue as I am able. Many things occurred the next days and months - it would take a book to tell them all. Many were bad, many were good, many just left us stunned. Most of all, the events left us totally dependent on God and grateful for His loving presence and provision.
Matt returned to school and on Monday when I went for the first visitation hours of ICU, the nurse was waiting for me in Len's room. He was on 3 antibiotics, multiple drips for blood pressure and irregular heartbeat and others. He was swollen, pale, still, and they were giving him something to keep him in the coma because he had developed encephalopathy (brain irritation is the best I can describe). It finally sunk in just how bad the outlook was and I began to weep and told the nurse that my son was in Middle Tennessee about 1.5 hours away. I asked her to let me know if I needed to call him to return. She very quietly told me that I needed to call him and tell him to come now, not to wait till afternoon. I will say that the phone call to Matt was one of the hardest I have ever made. Family was called and they and many friends arrived to pray and say a possible goodbye.
I wish I could say I handled this all with grace and dignity, but the truth is that I wept and begged God for his life. I know we all face a day when a loved one passes on, but I just COULD NOT bear it to be him, not my best friend, my wonderful husband, my companion in all things. I covered his hand with mine and begged him to hear me and not leave me. I cried a river of tears, bargained with God, and prayed. There came a point where calm settled on me and I remembered the king in the Old Testament that was ill and dying and he turned his face to the wall and prayed. God healed him and gave him 15 more years. SO I turned my face to the wall at the head of Len's bed and asked God for the same thing. I felt a sweet peace descend on me and I knew that no matter what the answer was that God was with us and would not forsake us.
Matt arrived in time for the next visitation (that hospital is quite strict about the visiting hours in ICU) and we entered to find that a new cascade of events was taking place. Blood pressure support medications were at high drip rates, his kidneys were failing, and the surgical wound on his abdomen had to be opened and was pouring fluid out. We cried and held on to each other and slowly family and friends silently slipped in to say goodbye and pray. I remember begging him to wake up and tell me "I love you" one more time, but of course I knew he could not and would not at that time.
To the surprise of the entire staff, Len made it through the afternoon, then the evening, and finally through a long, tension-laden night. His temperature spiked to 104-105 degrees and he was placed under a cooling ice blanket. He remained there with only brief breaks for skin care reasons and each time his temperature would soar again. Yet he still hung on to the scrap of life in him! Visits were agony because each time we entered his room another bad event had occurred. I refused to move from the ICU lounge to even go to the cafeteria and my wonderful son, along with many caring friends, made sure I ate something and stayed hydrated. Matt and I were at the doors of ICU watching the clock tick the last minutes until the doors would open for visitation. Little did we realize that this would be the pattern for the next 2 months.
I will close with that and continue as I am able. Many things occurred the next days and months - it would take a book to tell them all. Many were bad, many were good, many just left us stunned. Most of all, the events left us totally dependent on God and grateful for His loving presence and provision.
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
A Long 2 Years
I started my blog with the intention of faithfully keeping it current, but then life just exploded. 'So many things have changed over the past few years that even now I can hardly grasp what has happened to my little family. Hopefully over the next posts I can share and begin to deal with all that has happened. I feel it is important to share what we have experienced- maybe it can help someone else as they navigate the murky waters of healthcare.
In some of my last posts, I recounted how in 2010 that both Len and I had a reoccurrence of cancer. That seemed awfully tough at the time, but little did I know that worse was even to come! In 2011 Len was yet again diagnosed with cancer... colon cancer yet again. He was tested to see if it was genetic and thankfully it was not (we have a son and were concerned about his odds of this occurring to him). He underwent his 3rd colon cancer surgery and were told that he was once again all clear. That was a good report for certain because they discovered that the cancer cells were the type that did not respond to chemo. Makes me wonder now if the first 2 times of surgery/chemo that it was the same way and the horrible chemo experience for him didn't really need to occur. Well, we will never know and I try not to dwell on that.
At the beginning of 2012 Len underwent his follow-up colonoscopy and to our horror we discovered that the cancer had returned. This time we knew the surgery would involve having a permanent ileostomy (bowel routed to outside to drain into a bag attached to his abdomen), Len was very concerned by this but I just kept reassuring him that it would be okay and that I would help deal with it. He had his surgery March 1st and all seemed to go well. The surgeon assured us that the surgery had gone smoothly and despite finding a tumor outside the bowel, he felt he had got all the cancer out. The first day he slept a lot but was more awake the next day. The days following were NOT so good at all. He progressively became "sleepier and sleepier", would not eat or drink, and was lethargic. I told every doctor and every nurse and every PERSON that stepped into his room that something was wrong, that he normally bounced back rapidly from surgery. They all reassured me that it was normal after a "big surgery" like he had done. A little over a week later, I found out in a hard way that this was NOT true.
About 8 days after surgery, I walked into his hospital room to find him totally non-responsive, ashen-colored, and his oxygen saturations were in the 40's. The alarm on his monitor was ringing continuously but NOBODY was responding to it. I ran into the hallways and yelled for help. His nurse finally came and then called for respiratory therapy to come. Nothing they did helped. I asked her if he was in a coma and she replied, "No, why would you ask that?" Well.... uh, he is nonresponsive, his breathing had changed and he had no spontaneous movement at all. Eventually a doctor was summoned and he told us that he WAS comatose and that he must be moved to ICU immediately and put on a ventilator. They rushed him to ICU, put a tube down his throat to his lungs, and put him on the ventilator. His blood pressure was low so they had to start medicine drips to help keep it up enough to circulate blood to vital organs. He was diagnosed with Massive Overwhelming Sepsis (severe infection in blood stream) and it was causing his body to shut down. Several IV antibiotics were started and I breathed a sigh of relief, believing that these would soon take care of the problem and he would be fine. NOPE, it was the continuation of a nightmare for us and him. What followed was an ordeal of a broken body, medical errors, happenstance, and horror. I will delve into those things here in future posts.
In some of my last posts, I recounted how in 2010 that both Len and I had a reoccurrence of cancer. That seemed awfully tough at the time, but little did I know that worse was even to come! In 2011 Len was yet again diagnosed with cancer... colon cancer yet again. He was tested to see if it was genetic and thankfully it was not (we have a son and were concerned about his odds of this occurring to him). He underwent his 3rd colon cancer surgery and were told that he was once again all clear. That was a good report for certain because they discovered that the cancer cells were the type that did not respond to chemo. Makes me wonder now if the first 2 times of surgery/chemo that it was the same way and the horrible chemo experience for him didn't really need to occur. Well, we will never know and I try not to dwell on that.
At the beginning of 2012 Len underwent his follow-up colonoscopy and to our horror we discovered that the cancer had returned. This time we knew the surgery would involve having a permanent ileostomy (bowel routed to outside to drain into a bag attached to his abdomen), Len was very concerned by this but I just kept reassuring him that it would be okay and that I would help deal with it. He had his surgery March 1st and all seemed to go well. The surgeon assured us that the surgery had gone smoothly and despite finding a tumor outside the bowel, he felt he had got all the cancer out. The first day he slept a lot but was more awake the next day. The days following were NOT so good at all. He progressively became "sleepier and sleepier", would not eat or drink, and was lethargic. I told every doctor and every nurse and every PERSON that stepped into his room that something was wrong, that he normally bounced back rapidly from surgery. They all reassured me that it was normal after a "big surgery" like he had done. A little over a week later, I found out in a hard way that this was NOT true.
About 8 days after surgery, I walked into his hospital room to find him totally non-responsive, ashen-colored, and his oxygen saturations were in the 40's. The alarm on his monitor was ringing continuously but NOBODY was responding to it. I ran into the hallways and yelled for help. His nurse finally came and then called for respiratory therapy to come. Nothing they did helped. I asked her if he was in a coma and she replied, "No, why would you ask that?" Well.... uh, he is nonresponsive, his breathing had changed and he had no spontaneous movement at all. Eventually a doctor was summoned and he told us that he WAS comatose and that he must be moved to ICU immediately and put on a ventilator. They rushed him to ICU, put a tube down his throat to his lungs, and put him on the ventilator. His blood pressure was low so they had to start medicine drips to help keep it up enough to circulate blood to vital organs. He was diagnosed with Massive Overwhelming Sepsis (severe infection in blood stream) and it was causing his body to shut down. Several IV antibiotics were started and I breathed a sigh of relief, believing that these would soon take care of the problem and he would be fine. NOPE, it was the continuation of a nightmare for us and him. What followed was an ordeal of a broken body, medical errors, happenstance, and horror. I will delve into those things here in future posts.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Joy
What a year this has been! My family has been on quite a ride, including, but not limited to, both my husband and myself finding out we each had cancer again and then both of us undergoing treatment. We are now basking in the sheer joy of just knowing that we are both in remission. Remission- just one of those words that sounds sweet as it rolls off your tongue.
It is funny how facing such obstacles can make you start paying attention to what is important in life and stop obsessing over the little things that are not important after all. Suddenly it doesn't matter as much that my dear hubby "puts on the brakes" when he is riding in the car while I drive. It doesn't really matter whether the towels are all folded the same way and lined up in the linen closet just so. So what if my son or hubby don't clean just as I would? These things and lots of other little things that used to drive me nuts just don't matter a hill of beans these days.
I find myself a good bit slower to anger usually (mind you, I said usually, LOL) and what people think of me or say about me is just not the biggest deal now. I find myself praising God more, watching for the beauties of His creations in the world around me, and spending more quiet time with Him. I appreciate my friends more, thank people quicker, and offer praise where praise is due more frequently. A simple conversation with my husband is now a delight to enjoy and savor. I wonder what was wrong with me that I couldn't slow down before and appreciate exactly what I had in life?
I once read an article where the author stated she was glad that she had had cancer. She said she wouldn't have it any other way now because of what it taught her. Well, I don't think I will ever be to the point where I will be glad that I had cancer or glad my husband had it, despite what we have learned from it. Instead, I guess I will say that IF we had to undergo this ordeal, I am glad that God used it to His glory and used it to teach us and draw us ever closer to Him. Heavens knows that He probably wanted to shake me more than one time just to get me to pay attention to what He was trying to show me!
Cancer is a funny thing (as in "weird" funny)- people either automatically think you are going to die or they start telling you about Uncle Fred who had cancer ten years ago and it was awful how he suffered. Some people have trouble looking you in the eye and others seem to need to reach out and touch you when they see you, almost as if to reassure themselves. All ask how you are doing or how you are holding up, whether it is you with the cancer or your spouse/family member. The truth is, though, that most don't really want an honest answer; they want you to tell them that you are doing great and all will be fine. So, you smile and say, "I'm doing great" or "We're hanging in there, it will be okay". Really what you want is someone to hang on to as you sob your heart out because you stayed awake most of the night watching to see if your husband was still breathing. You don't tell them how you were frightened out of your mind because he was so weak after treatment that he didn't even have the strength to move from the bed to the couch. You don't talk about the despair you feel as you watch them retch until they can't hold their head up. You don't bring up the fears that come at night as you contemplate the thought that you might lose your beloved partner/friend/greatest supporter. AND if it is you with the cancer, you don't admit that you worry about your family if something should happen to you or that you have to face full on your own mortality.
You also get to the point where you cannot, cannot, cannot stand another person to poke you with a needle, prod your body, or discuss you as if you aren't there. You dread the drive to chemo, you dread the nausea, you itch, you wobble, you get hungry and then can't eat, and you ache for the health you took for granted. Somehow in all this, you get to the point where you actively listen for God's voice and watch with awe and joy as He works in your life. You learn that you can always pour out your heart to Him without fear of misunderstanding or worries that HE will think you weak. You learn to cede control to Him because, after all, you never had it in the first place. HE is the one who is always there in the middle of the night when the tears threaten and the worries try to take over. And He is the one who quiets you with His love and sings over you (a reference to Zephaniah 3:17, a fav for me).
Ultimately, I have learned that you cannot let fear take over, you cannot stand by and let the devil whisper scary thoughts in your ear, you cannot avoid open discussion without setting up a situation where people can't share and get thru all this together, and you can stand things you never thought you could. But most of all, I knew with an ever-deepening conviction that I never want to be far from my Creator thru any situation.
It is funny how facing such obstacles can make you start paying attention to what is important in life and stop obsessing over the little things that are not important after all. Suddenly it doesn't matter as much that my dear hubby "puts on the brakes" when he is riding in the car while I drive. It doesn't really matter whether the towels are all folded the same way and lined up in the linen closet just so. So what if my son or hubby don't clean just as I would? These things and lots of other little things that used to drive me nuts just don't matter a hill of beans these days.
I find myself a good bit slower to anger usually (mind you, I said usually, LOL) and what people think of me or say about me is just not the biggest deal now. I find myself praising God more, watching for the beauties of His creations in the world around me, and spending more quiet time with Him. I appreciate my friends more, thank people quicker, and offer praise where praise is due more frequently. A simple conversation with my husband is now a delight to enjoy and savor. I wonder what was wrong with me that I couldn't slow down before and appreciate exactly what I had in life?
I once read an article where the author stated she was glad that she had had cancer. She said she wouldn't have it any other way now because of what it taught her. Well, I don't think I will ever be to the point where I will be glad that I had cancer or glad my husband had it, despite what we have learned from it. Instead, I guess I will say that IF we had to undergo this ordeal, I am glad that God used it to His glory and used it to teach us and draw us ever closer to Him. Heavens knows that He probably wanted to shake me more than one time just to get me to pay attention to what He was trying to show me!
Cancer is a funny thing (as in "weird" funny)- people either automatically think you are going to die or they start telling you about Uncle Fred who had cancer ten years ago and it was awful how he suffered. Some people have trouble looking you in the eye and others seem to need to reach out and touch you when they see you, almost as if to reassure themselves. All ask how you are doing or how you are holding up, whether it is you with the cancer or your spouse/family member. The truth is, though, that most don't really want an honest answer; they want you to tell them that you are doing great and all will be fine. So, you smile and say, "I'm doing great" or "We're hanging in there, it will be okay". Really what you want is someone to hang on to as you sob your heart out because you stayed awake most of the night watching to see if your husband was still breathing. You don't tell them how you were frightened out of your mind because he was so weak after treatment that he didn't even have the strength to move from the bed to the couch. You don't talk about the despair you feel as you watch them retch until they can't hold their head up. You don't bring up the fears that come at night as you contemplate the thought that you might lose your beloved partner/friend/greatest supporter. AND if it is you with the cancer, you don't admit that you worry about your family if something should happen to you or that you have to face full on your own mortality.
You also get to the point where you cannot, cannot, cannot stand another person to poke you with a needle, prod your body, or discuss you as if you aren't there. You dread the drive to chemo, you dread the nausea, you itch, you wobble, you get hungry and then can't eat, and you ache for the health you took for granted. Somehow in all this, you get to the point where you actively listen for God's voice and watch with awe and joy as He works in your life. You learn that you can always pour out your heart to Him without fear of misunderstanding or worries that HE will think you weak. You learn to cede control to Him because, after all, you never had it in the first place. HE is the one who is always there in the middle of the night when the tears threaten and the worries try to take over. And He is the one who quiets you with His love and sings over you (a reference to Zephaniah 3:17, a fav for me).
Ultimately, I have learned that you cannot let fear take over, you cannot stand by and let the devil whisper scary thoughts in your ear, you cannot avoid open discussion without setting up a situation where people can't share and get thru all this together, and you can stand things you never thought you could. But most of all, I knew with an ever-deepening conviction that I never want to be far from my Creator thru any situation.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Time Passages
For each day that passes, I am aware of how quickly time slips away. There have been so many changes in my life (and the world!) these past few years that sometimes I get a little overwhelmed just thinking of them. Nothing makes you confront age, time passing, and mortality than realizing what has been invented since you were born, the family members and friends that have passed on, and the adjustments you have to make or accept because of age.
I am the second of four sisters and wherever I go, I meet someone who knows me as "one of Bud and Shirley's girls." I am not sure I would know how to BE without being a sister and certainly many of the older folks can only remember the four of us as "one of the sisters." Some might be bothered by this, but for me, it is a comfort, a rhythm that repeats itself over the years and keeps me grounded as to my place in this universe. Of course, I am now a wife and mother, but I was a sister from the moment I was born.
Birth order is a funny thing. I read the books that tell you how you are supposed to be based on birth order and they make me smile. Even though I have an older sister, I have always been placed in the role of oldest sister and expected to help fix catastrophes, rescue those that need rescuing, and generally doing whatever needs to be done. I am blessed that my next sister down is only two years younger than me and has always been my best friend and cohort in getting done whatever needs to get done. We support one another a lot, argue a little, and love one another fiercely.
My oldest sister had a stroke at 45 after undergoing surgery. She was able to gain enough independence to go back to her home after a while, but a couple of years ago, she was felled by another stroke. This time, things were to change forever. She could not provide any care for herself and had to go live with her daughter. My wonderful niece has provided 24-7 care for her for several years, but now my sister's health is now a little more unstable and she has had to be moved to a nursing home. What a painful decision this has been for my sister, my niece, and my family. It is certainly the RIGHT decision, but that does not make it any easier- particularly for my poor niece. My sister is 56 years old and will spend the rest of her life in a nursing home. The reality of this is just stunning for all of us. My niece struggles with this reality, even though I know deep down that she knows it had to be, both for my sister's sake and for her sake. Doesn't make it any easier though!!
I guess where I am going with all this is that if you don't have a written out, talked out plan for your family about health-care choices, life-care choices, end-of-life choices .... don't delay, do something about it now! When we are young, we tend to think "oh, I have lots of time, I don't have to deal with that now". Well, that is not necessarily true. My sister was only 45 when she had her first stroke and only a few years over 50 when the next stroke hit. We are NOT guaranteed any one moment of time ever.
Of course, there is no way we can foresee everything that might happen in life, but you can certainly get your head out of the sand and prepare for a time when decisions must be made or already be in place. Get a will, make a living will, gets papers pulled together that affect decisions. Talk to your family and let them know exactly what you are asking of them if the time comes when you can no longer make your own decisions about what care is given or when to end all care except comfort care. It is not enough to just believe that your family will just KNOW what to do when such a time comes. Most of all, give them "permission" to do what must be done, with the full knowledge that you know they are doing the best they can and that you wish them no guilt for the overwhelming choices that must be made sometimes.
I am the second of four sisters and wherever I go, I meet someone who knows me as "one of Bud and Shirley's girls." I am not sure I would know how to BE without being a sister and certainly many of the older folks can only remember the four of us as "one of the sisters." Some might be bothered by this, but for me, it is a comfort, a rhythm that repeats itself over the years and keeps me grounded as to my place in this universe. Of course, I am now a wife and mother, but I was a sister from the moment I was born.
Birth order is a funny thing. I read the books that tell you how you are supposed to be based on birth order and they make me smile. Even though I have an older sister, I have always been placed in the role of oldest sister and expected to help fix catastrophes, rescue those that need rescuing, and generally doing whatever needs to be done. I am blessed that my next sister down is only two years younger than me and has always been my best friend and cohort in getting done whatever needs to get done. We support one another a lot, argue a little, and love one another fiercely.
My oldest sister had a stroke at 45 after undergoing surgery. She was able to gain enough independence to go back to her home after a while, but a couple of years ago, she was felled by another stroke. This time, things were to change forever. She could not provide any care for herself and had to go live with her daughter. My wonderful niece has provided 24-7 care for her for several years, but now my sister's health is now a little more unstable and she has had to be moved to a nursing home. What a painful decision this has been for my sister, my niece, and my family. It is certainly the RIGHT decision, but that does not make it any easier- particularly for my poor niece. My sister is 56 years old and will spend the rest of her life in a nursing home. The reality of this is just stunning for all of us. My niece struggles with this reality, even though I know deep down that she knows it had to be, both for my sister's sake and for her sake. Doesn't make it any easier though!!
I guess where I am going with all this is that if you don't have a written out, talked out plan for your family about health-care choices, life-care choices, end-of-life choices .... don't delay, do something about it now! When we are young, we tend to think "oh, I have lots of time, I don't have to deal with that now". Well, that is not necessarily true. My sister was only 45 when she had her first stroke and only a few years over 50 when the next stroke hit. We are NOT guaranteed any one moment of time ever.
Of course, there is no way we can foresee everything that might happen in life, but you can certainly get your head out of the sand and prepare for a time when decisions must be made or already be in place. Get a will, make a living will, gets papers pulled together that affect decisions. Talk to your family and let them know exactly what you are asking of them if the time comes when you can no longer make your own decisions about what care is given or when to end all care except comfort care. It is not enough to just believe that your family will just KNOW what to do when such a time comes. Most of all, give them "permission" to do what must be done, with the full knowledge that you know they are doing the best they can and that you wish them no guilt for the overwhelming choices that must be made sometimes.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Old Saints
Two days ago, our community lost another wonderful saint of God. Uncle Henry was 94 years old and had been married to Aunt Rose for 74 years. I have such sweet memories of him and Aunt Rose. They were such an integral part of the little church I grew up in. As a child, I loved his smile. It was so sweet and even his eyes smiled. BUT, I also saw a hint of naughtiness in that smile- like he was about to act like a kid or was sharing a secret with one of us kids who had been a bit naughty. He always seemed to study on his answers before he gave them and I never remember him talking down to me as a child. He and Aunt Rose were a wonderful example of Christianity.
His death really hit me hard and it also set me to thinking. I know lots of Christians, but it seems those old saints from my childhood just have/had something that I don't see a lot of today. Uncle Henry was one of those who had that something extra. So was my Uncle Abe. They loved the Bible and the study of it. They loved talking to people. I cannot even begin to imagine how many people my Uncle Abe had witnessed to before his death. I cannot even begin to imagine the hundreds of thousands of prayers for people and situations he had uttered. My Uncle Abe was one of the most saintly persons I have ever known, but he would frequently tell me that he needed to grow closer to God and do more for Him. It was hard for me to understand when he would say that he could hardly wait to go on to heaven. I WANT to go to heaven, but was young and couldn't imagine wishing for it right then. Now that I am older, I get it more and more. The older I get, the sweeter and more intense the desire to be with my Saviour gets. Still not rushing my life away, you understand! I just experience that every deeper desire for Christ as each week passes.
Maybe it is not true, but it seems that many Christians of my generation and younger do not make Bible reading and prayer the priority the way these older Christians have done. Is that because of the time we live in now? Or is it because as we age we see more and more how important those things are? I don't know the answer. I do know that my yearning for my Bible reading time has increased as I have moved to the 50-something stage in my life.
How I wish I had appreciated those old-time saints and their Bible knowledge more while I had them in my life! I fear that my generation will not have that legacy of Bible knowledge to pass on/leave with their children and the children of their home church. One of the things that bothers me about most churches these days is that there is little interaction between the children and the older members. It is all about "youth group" and their doings now. Some of my greatest examples of Christianity came from the interaction with older church members who taught Sunday School, Vacation Bible School, and helped with various tasks in the church. Now it seems that age groups are too often segregated from one another. Is the church falling into the pattern of the world where elders are no longer respected or put to good use? So sad that it is only when we are older ourselves do we see that the wisdom and knowledge of our elders could have served us so well. Too many times that knowledge/story/wisdom is lost forever when they pass away before we come to the realization that they have something important to impart to us.
Do yourself a favor today- go call your parent, your grandparent, your elderly family member, and just listen as they talk of yesteryears. Listen patiently, listen quietly, listen with your heart. You will be glad you did.
His death really hit me hard and it also set me to thinking. I know lots of Christians, but it seems those old saints from my childhood just have/had something that I don't see a lot of today. Uncle Henry was one of those who had that something extra. So was my Uncle Abe. They loved the Bible and the study of it. They loved talking to people. I cannot even begin to imagine how many people my Uncle Abe had witnessed to before his death. I cannot even begin to imagine the hundreds of thousands of prayers for people and situations he had uttered. My Uncle Abe was one of the most saintly persons I have ever known, but he would frequently tell me that he needed to grow closer to God and do more for Him. It was hard for me to understand when he would say that he could hardly wait to go on to heaven. I WANT to go to heaven, but was young and couldn't imagine wishing for it right then. Now that I am older, I get it more and more. The older I get, the sweeter and more intense the desire to be with my Saviour gets. Still not rushing my life away, you understand! I just experience that every deeper desire for Christ as each week passes.
Maybe it is not true, but it seems that many Christians of my generation and younger do not make Bible reading and prayer the priority the way these older Christians have done. Is that because of the time we live in now? Or is it because as we age we see more and more how important those things are? I don't know the answer. I do know that my yearning for my Bible reading time has increased as I have moved to the 50-something stage in my life.
How I wish I had appreciated those old-time saints and their Bible knowledge more while I had them in my life! I fear that my generation will not have that legacy of Bible knowledge to pass on/leave with their children and the children of their home church. One of the things that bothers me about most churches these days is that there is little interaction between the children and the older members. It is all about "youth group" and their doings now. Some of my greatest examples of Christianity came from the interaction with older church members who taught Sunday School, Vacation Bible School, and helped with various tasks in the church. Now it seems that age groups are too often segregated from one another. Is the church falling into the pattern of the world where elders are no longer respected or put to good use? So sad that it is only when we are older ourselves do we see that the wisdom and knowledge of our elders could have served us so well. Too many times that knowledge/story/wisdom is lost forever when they pass away before we come to the realization that they have something important to impart to us.
Do yourself a favor today- go call your parent, your grandparent, your elderly family member, and just listen as they talk of yesteryears. Listen patiently, listen quietly, listen with your heart. You will be glad you did.
Monday, September 13, 2010
A New Day
I usually am not too terribly excited to see the weekend be over, but this time is a bit different. On Friday, I had my first oncology treatment and it left me feeling like I had a nasty bout of flu. It started at the oncology clinic with severe chilling and it wasn't long after that the aches and headache set in. My poor sister was my helper for the day and was so patient and kind in helping me get settled back at home. She fixed me up with gingerale and made sure I had my medications. Len came home from work later and kept me well-medicated and with cold drinks at hand. I thank God for such a dear sis and such a wonderful husband. Just don't know what I would do without them sometimes!
A friend asked this weekend if I was angry at God because I received my cancer diagnosis while Len was still undergoing his chemotherapy. I immediately answered "no", but later that led me to really think and pray about it. My answer was still the same, but it did lead me to reacquaint myself with Lamentations, chapter 3. I LOVE that chapter! Jeremiah pours his heart out, lays it on the line, and then states, "Yet this I call to mind and therefore have hope: because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness." (Lamentations 3:21-23, NIV). Such a sweet, sweet promise! Just as Jeremiah did, I had to totally acknowledge that the Lord is good to those who hope in Him.
While all the health issues around our household have been difficult, I do have to say that they have served to make me desire Him more in my life and urged me deeper into my Bible. Isn't it a shame that it sometimes takes things like this to draw us closer to Him?? The nice part of it, though, is rediscovering promises and being refreshed by verses that comfort and provide an outlet for expression. I still fumble and stumble WAY TOO much, but I am learning more and more that God uses many things to teach us and draw us. He can take my failings and use them to show me the right path. He does NOT use these failings as a bat to beat me over the head. Thank God!!
All of these things have also shown us just how many people there are that care about us. Both of us have been placed on prayer lists from one side of this country to the other (and a few outside the USA also!). There have been so many times that we have literally felt the sustaining prayers of other believers. They have been like a warm blanket on a cold day. Even this is a good lesson for me! I really, really see how important it is to offer prayer for others. In the past, I have stated I would pray for someone and then would pray at night-time for them. Now, I am making a conscious effort to stop and pray right at that time, in addition to praying at night. I hope you will join me this week in lifting up others in prayers in an immediate manner and then continue in prayer for those whose needs have been layed on your heart.
1 Peter 3:12 For the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous and His ears are attentive to their prayers
A friend asked this weekend if I was angry at God because I received my cancer diagnosis while Len was still undergoing his chemotherapy. I immediately answered "no", but later that led me to really think and pray about it. My answer was still the same, but it did lead me to reacquaint myself with Lamentations, chapter 3. I LOVE that chapter! Jeremiah pours his heart out, lays it on the line, and then states, "Yet this I call to mind and therefore have hope: because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness." (Lamentations 3:21-23, NIV). Such a sweet, sweet promise! Just as Jeremiah did, I had to totally acknowledge that the Lord is good to those who hope in Him.
While all the health issues around our household have been difficult, I do have to say that they have served to make me desire Him more in my life and urged me deeper into my Bible. Isn't it a shame that it sometimes takes things like this to draw us closer to Him?? The nice part of it, though, is rediscovering promises and being refreshed by verses that comfort and provide an outlet for expression. I still fumble and stumble WAY TOO much, but I am learning more and more that God uses many things to teach us and draw us. He can take my failings and use them to show me the right path. He does NOT use these failings as a bat to beat me over the head. Thank God!!
All of these things have also shown us just how many people there are that care about us. Both of us have been placed on prayer lists from one side of this country to the other (and a few outside the USA also!). There have been so many times that we have literally felt the sustaining prayers of other believers. They have been like a warm blanket on a cold day. Even this is a good lesson for me! I really, really see how important it is to offer prayer for others. In the past, I have stated I would pray for someone and then would pray at night-time for them. Now, I am making a conscious effort to stop and pray right at that time, in addition to praying at night. I hope you will join me this week in lifting up others in prayers in an immediate manner and then continue in prayer for those whose needs have been layed on your heart.
1 Peter 3:12 For the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous and His ears are attentive to their prayers
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)