Hide & Seek: Finding 'hidden' blessings

I was at dialysis recently, sharing with one of the techs about my donor no longer being match.  I'd had another sleepless night and was feeling very sorry for myself (hard to believe, huh?).  I was hoping for some major sympathy, when she surprised me by saying, "you've had a lot of hidden blessings this summer".  It got me to thinking, it's true, my summer has been far more difficult than I would have desired, but in the midst of the difficulty has been an amazing outpouring of God's mercifulness & AWE-mazing blessings.  I just wanted to share them with you and encourage you to look for your own "hidden" blessings.

·        In June when I didn’t get my transplant, it seemed like a crushing blow, but had I gotten it as planned I would have most certainly lost the kidney or lost my life.  I praise God for allowing this apply timed roadblock, which I just thought was an appy with poor timing.

·        I am thankful for the staff that care for me Mon-Wed-Fri at dialysis, but there are a few instances were they especially acted for my benefit.  In the first few weeks of healing after surgery, one nurse recognized the signs of infection and encouraged me to get it checked out.  And on a very big note, when I stopped breathing and checked out, the staff recognized what my needs and supply life-saving actions.  I am so very thankful for these people care for me, put up with me and make the time go by faster.

·        With my body creating antibodies, it is a blessing that I didn’t receive the kidney, previously intended for me.  Had I received the kidney the antibodies would have most likely attacked and demolished the healthy kidney.  I would be back where I am now and the donor would be without a kidney.  So I feel blessed that God saved me from that bitter disappointment and potential health crisis.

·        My friends and family and the outpouring of love and generosity from them and others that don’t know me – what a blessing.  I am humbled by what awesome friends and family I have – fundraisers, notes of encouragement, care packages, prayers and phone calls – I can’t even begin to express how very full my cup is, I am blessed beyond measure!

·        My parents are amazing – they have put up with me on days when even I don’t want to be with me & they continue to show their love in tangible ways.  On the days I didn’t know how to pray – they prayed with me.  When I was too tired to lean on God’s promises, they read them to me and lifted me up.  When I was unable to sleep because of pain or nightmares, they would stay up with me.  I am so richly blessed by their love and friendship

Truly, God is good, He is my sustainer and even in the mist of dark days He provides blessings!

Makin' Plans to Not Plan

What keeps you going?  Routine, responsibility…  For me it’s God, for sure, but with the events of the past few months there have been two things for which I have strived for… receiving my transplant and returning to work.  I took a certain measure of pride in the fact that until recently I had continued to work full time, and I was anxious to return.  And every time my pain was less than tolerable, a dialysis treatment was rough or I spent another long night awake – I would remind myself that this was fleeting and that the transplant was mere weeks away.  Work & Transplant were my own “light at the end of the tunnel” – they were at least, until most recently.

·        I had plans to return to work this week, but during my recovery my position was eliminated.  I’m not sure this has completely sunk in.  I still catch myself thinking in terms of returning.  I am probably in the minority, but I loved my job and the people I was blessed to work with.  For six years that was my “home”.  I always joked that work was my social life and there’s some truth to that – many of my co-workers are my greatest friends.  I already miss them so much and I suppose a lot of my grief over the loss is not being able to see those people on a regular basis.  But I will also miss the purpose I felt – I knew God was using me to show love and comfort to people who were vulnerable and scared – I’ll miss the people most.  In this loss I’ve prayed mostly that I wouldn’t harbor any bitterness or anxiety at trying to find a new job.  My employer has been so good to me for so long and I was very blessed.  Six plus years ago, when I applied with their corporation I didn’t have any plans to actually move or join them.  But God had different plans for me, He placed me there, and opened doors for each new venture.  So I am confident that He again will place me where I can best serve Him and others.

·        ‘As soon as my wound heals I’ll get my kidney’….  That’s what I continually told myself and others.  Last week, I saw my surgeon – He checked my wound & gave me the first measure of good news, it was healing to his satisfaction.  And then he dropped a bomb – because of my previous infections my body has developed many antibodies and the current donor would no longer be a match.  His words were surreal, so calm and matter-of-fact, as if he were discussing the state of the weather, rather than the crushing of my life-saving gift.  Later in the week the transplant nurse called to follow up, reminding me that, ‘its not the end of the world’.  Yeah, she’s right, it’s not the end of the world, but it was the end of that kidney.  So, now I am again without a kidney.  I am still on the deceased donor list and if any persons are interested in donating they will be tested to see if they are a match.  The greater the antibodies the more difficult it is to find a suitable match, but I know that nothing is impossible when Christ is in the mix.  I have to believe that if He wasn’t ready to have me in Heaven when I coded, that He still has plans for me.

It’s amazing how very quickly plao ns change.  I had such big plans for this summer… they’ve all changed.  I’ve stopped imposing my plans on God’s plans for my life.   I definitely don’t understand all the twists and turns this summer has taken, but I am confident that God is in control and has great plans for my life.  How can I not trust that His plans are the best for me, when He knows me, created me and knows the future?   So, now, my plan is to rely on the plans God has for me.  It definitely takes a measure of trust, but there’s no better person to place my trust.  He’s brought me through so much already and not left to fend for myself – and He’s shown me such blessings through it all.  So, while I still have my moments of wishing things were different, I continue to pray that God would use this time and my journey to His glory and that He might be evident through my life – and I eagerly anticipate the ways He will continue to amaze me.

Jeremiah 29:11
For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Month in Review

It's been far too long.... What an unfaithful tomato I've been, neglecting to write for so long.  Usuallly my lapses in posts indicates an inordinate lack of excitement in my life, but Whoa Nellie, that is not the case... The last month has been filled with numerous blessings, but for much of the month those blessings have seemed to pale next to the laundry list of bad news, doctors' appoinments, dialysis and overwhelming anxiety.  It's hard to see the forest through the trees & in the midst of all the happenings I began to feel like Job -- even though I still dressed better (but not by much).  It's been a trying month, and its only now that I'm ready to write about it... 

·       Big Hands, Little Spaces…..

About a week after I returned home from having exploratory surgery I returned to the surgeon.  Nurses caring for me in dialysis were concerned about the incision being infected.  It would be the first of many visits…..  Upon seeing the doctor he concluded that I did indeed have an infection.  My naïve hope was that antibiotics would be sufficient weaponry to fight the infection – oh, no, nothing near so tidy.  Instead the incision was torn open from top to bottom and I was layed open like a Christmas ham.  But unlike the ham, there was nothing deadened during this process.  The physical pain was bad, but the mental images I had of the process made it worse, but I was in for more.  In order to make sure the infection hadn’t compromised the integrity of my muscle layer (this could be detrimental to the underlying structures)  the surgeon had to push around on the inside layer – big hands, small space – I’d rather forget how this felt, but words really can’t describe…

Now I had an open cavity, the staff quickly instructed me on how to pack the space and I high-tailed out of the office in search of a shoulder to cry on and pain pills.  For the next week I had the space packed three times daily. When it was time to return to the surgeon we were pleased with the healing that had taken place – we were, the surgeon was not!  He took one look at the wound and instantly was displeased.  Apparently, the manner of packing had allowed tissue to heal on top, but not at the base of the wound.  This ineffective healing can lead to abscess formation, the surgeon “doc big hands”  took his finger and without so much as a “this might hurt” he ripped open the healed tissue.  ‘Ouch’ doesn’t begin to describe the intense shock wave of pain this sent throughout my body.  Later, my dad said he came close to punching the doc…. It seems barbaric and it was excruciating, but it needed to be done.  But, it was discouraging, yet another set-back when we’d been so sure of the progress…  So again we returned home to pack the wound.  This routine continued for a couple more weeks with good results.  Eventually, while hospitalized I would receive a wound vac and that sped up the healing process, but then that’s a whole ‘nother story….

·       Arresting Developments

Since having my peritoneal catheter removed I have been receiving Hemo Dialysis.  You might remember that I had a brief stint with Hemo in December.  I visit the center 3 times a week for about 3 ½ to 4 hours.  Hemo, though necessary, life-sustaining and all that jazz has not agreed with me this go around.  Nausea, shortness of breath, pain and swelling seem to plague my off days and fatigue is my constant companion.  I dreaded each treatment and eyed the clocked with the intensity I used to eye chocolate.  It was on one such day, mid July that I remember thinking the last hour of treatment was taking FOREVER – I was certain the clock hand was stuck.  I also remember feeling twinges in my chest and shortness of breath, I briefly thought maybe I should tell someone..  I don’t know if I did, but the next recollection I have is waking unable to catch my breath and hearing “analyzing rhythm – non-shockable rhythm”.  In a corner of my mind I knew that was a defibrillator’s mantra and wondered why I was hearing that.  Shortly thereafter my vision cleared enough to see a myriad of medical workers hovering over me and paramedics strapping me to a gurney.  The ride to the hospital was fairly uneventful, medics trying multiple times to establish an IV access and me giving them my medical history.  As best I was able to glean from them, I had stopped breathing and required defibrillation to re-establish a normal heart rhythm.  When I arrived at the ER I again went into an irregular rhythm (of which I converted out of myself) --- the ER doc explained to my parents that he was nearly certain I had been victim of a heart attack.  Time being of the essence I was rushed to the cath lab for an exploration of the vessels of my heart and heart structure.  This test eventually ruled out heart attack and enforced that I have a very healthy heart.  This was an immense relief – doctors finally concluded that “coding” was a result of electrolyte imbalance related to dialysis.  I spent 5 days in ICU while they worked to pull as much fluid off as possible and establish a healthy “dry” weight for me.

My hospital stay was a dark time for me. I couldn’t sleep at night or during the day and quickly my nerves became very raw.  I experienced a lot of anxiety then and even when I went home.  Coding hadn’t been scary during the times of incoherence, but it was the aftermath.  I truly anticipated meeting Christ that evening.  I remember praying He would be with my parents and comfort them and making sure my heart was right with Him.  I had concerns, but such a peace in that moment. 

·       Work Release

My most recent blow was this last week.  I have made it a habit to call my place of work when anything news-worthy has come along.  I was excited to get back to work and was planning to do so in a week and a half.  I still wasn’t quite up-to-snuff, but was working to regain my strength.  I received a call on Tuesday from my boss asking for an update on how I was doing.  I told her I couldn’t make any final say-so’s til I saw my doc, but was anxious to be back in the next couple weeks.  That’s when I got the news that my position had been cut.  If I wanted to come back the company would do there best to find a place for me, but my own job woudn’t be waiting for me… At that moment I thought how very much I could empathize with Job, it felt like the floor dropped out.  I did my best to retain my composure on the phone, but it all fell apart after the call went quiet.  I’ll write more later about this…

·       Whew Doggies – well if you didn’t believe at the beginning, I’m sure you will now agree – A lot has happened in the span of a few weeks.  Along with the events, has come a myriad of emotions, lessons, and blessings, but that, my friends will have to keep until next time.

"The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away;
   may the name of the LORD be praised.”  Job 1:21

 “Skin for skin!” Satan replied. “A man will give all he has for his own life. ⁵ But now stretch out your hand and strike his flesh and bones, and he will surely curse you to your face.”

 ⁶ The LORD said to Satan, “V  Joery well, then, he is in your hands; but you must spare his life.”
 ⁷ So Satan went out from the presence of the LORD and afflicted Job with painful sores from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head. ⁸ Then Job took a piece of broken pottery and scraped himself with it as he sat among the ashes.
 ⁹ His wife said to him, “Are you still maintaining your integrity? Curse God and die!”
 ¹⁰ He replied, “You are talking like a foolish^[b] woman. Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?” Job 2:4-10