A Child Alone

It was 1959, He was 3 years old and would not be 4 until November 21st. The summer was hot ...He was the middle child of 5. His mother had given the oldest girl to her older sister to adopt. Not an unusual happening for that generation when a pregnancy happens when it shouldn't and you wanted no one to know.

So as far as the kids and neighbors knew, he was the second to oldest. His older brother was 2 years older, his younger sister 2 years younger, and the baby was a year younger than the sister. Just a baby. Near by, the Grandmother lived and helped in the raising of the 4 kids, and the older sister and her husband also lived, on the same street, raising their adopted daughter, who was the birth daughter of the boys mother. The father, was in the picture as well.

He became sick and was taken to the doctor. His mother heard the words that no mother ever wants to hear ...and at that time, a word that struck fear into the hearts of even the bravest of souls. A word that today, just means a simple 'well baby' trip to the doctor. But back then, it could mean the world would end ... it certainly meant the world as the family knew it was ending.

Polio.

They lived in a small town in Northern California, not too far from Sacramento. The city was too small to handle such a sick baby, and quickly, they transfered the three year old to San Fransisco's Children's hospital.

Just 9 years earlier, it had been a center for the polio epidemic, but polio was on the decrease, thanks to the vaccine. This child, had missed the vaccine. It was being given to school age children in his community, and he was not quite 4.

His father, unable to handle the pressure of 4 kids and one of them terribly ill, just disappeared from their lives, abandoning them all.

His mother took him to San Fransisco, where he was placed on an iron lung. 3 years old, and in an iron lung, in a hospital far from home ... with strangers ... and away from everything familiar.



His mother, having 3 other children at home, decided to leave him in the care of the strangers at the hospital. I've tried and tried for 20 years to see this through her eyes, and no matter how hard I try, I simply cannot. I've had sick children ... I've had very sick children. I've sat in the hospital with a child that was sick with pneumonia. I've sat in the hospital with a child with meningitis ... and while I don't know what it is like to have a child with polio, I do know what it is to have a sick child.

I do know what it is to have to make the choice between the child at home and the child that is sick ..and I don't get it. There was an Aunt and Uncle and Grandmother to step in for the 3 healthy children back home ... and there was no one in San Franscisco but nurses and doctor's for the three year old boy in the iron lung


Over the next 6 years, the child would spend half of his childhood going through surgeries, and therapy ... in and out of San Fransisco Children's ... spending birthdays and holidays with nurses to celebrate for him. His playmates were the other children in the ward, and his teachers were the nurses.

I've been asked by several people why I go up to the hospital for 5, 6 8 to 10 hours a day to sit with my husband ... why I'm wearing myself into the ground. He's a big boy ...he can entertain himself ... most adults do, and get by with visits. They remind me that I've been in the hospital 26 times and I don't need this kind of care ...and for some I just say I know ... and for others I tell them about the three year old left alone ... in the iron lung



The six year old who had back surgery, to fuse his back 2/3 of the way ...or the 10 year old who had nurses to throw his birthday party.

I see his eyes light up when I walk into the room and his face drop when I tell him I'm going to leave. If I had it physically within my body, I'd be with him 24/7.

He may be a 51 year old man, but his soul is a 3 year old who's been abandoned once again ... and he's been there for a month today ..and he knows he has a few weeks ahead of him.

more

Sometime later next week, Don will be moved from the L TAC to the rehab hospital.

The doctor said he will be there for at least two weeks, if not 3 to 4 weeks.
In rehab he will get more intensive therapy to increase his endurance.

I'm exhausted, and weary.

I've found myself pulling into a hole ...and not calling people or reaching out. I've not even been to church in weeks.

I had a conversation with my pastor a couple of years back asking him why we have to depend on our brothers and sisters in Christ, if we know how to recieve comfort from God and he gave me an answer that just frustrated me. I know now that I made a mistake in not learning the lesson he tried to teach me.

As it is, I don't know how to say to those close to me ... help. I'm alone, and scared and stuck. The people I'm telling what's going on are out of town, out of state ...and across the internet. I text messaged my pastor (former pastor) and told him that I'm isolating a little ...and within 20 minutes, I got a phone call from my dear friend Wanda (from Wanda's Wings) and she said "how ya doing?" I said fine her response was "Pinocchio"

She'd been called and told to check on me. Whoops.

Our youth pastor warned me of being careful to not get caretakers fatique ... I'm don't know how you know when you have caretakers fatique ... but I know that I was glad to see the kids come back to camp, but I find the idea of going to church almost terrifying.

I think the questions of "how are you, how is Don" will be overwhelming. I know that I will be hugged by people I don't want to be hugged by ...and I know I will have to repeat what's going on more times than I can count ... so it's easier to just not go. The more I stay away, the easier it is to just not go.

So, here I am, hiding in my home and in my husband's hospital room, updating people only through on line measures ... and not making calls to friends to say 'hey! I'm lonely' or going to get a cup of coffee with a friend or go do something interesting ... and I know that all of this is draining me and the more I do it, it's all I can do.

What is feeding me? Nothing, literally nothing....not spiritually, not emotionally, not nutritionally. My food intake has dropped to little to nothing ... a few bites of fruit or veggies ... and every third day or so I might eat part of a real meal.

I see myself sinking and part of me feels like it's ok. When Don is ok, I'll pull myself up. The other part of me just wants to sit down and say I've fought for so many years I don't want to fight anymore. The other part of me just wants to say ...someone needs to fight for me ..only I don't want to reach out to anyone to tell them I just don't have any fight left.

Blessed Be The Name

Blessed Be Your Name
by Matt Redman- - -

Blessed Be Your Name
In the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name

Blessed Be Your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed Be Your name

Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say

Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name

Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's 'all as it should be'
Blessed be Your name

Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name

Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say

Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name

Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name

You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name

4 weeks

Today has been 4 weeks since Don went into the hospital.

What a month it has been.

I am exhausted, and weary at this point. I'm unsure of what we're facing in the future ...how much recovery he'll gain ...and what that means for us as a family.

He's lonely at the hospital, and I'm needing to be there with him for most of the day. He says I don't, but then when the idea of me leaving, or not come in until later in the day comes, you can see the anxiety build.

What we know at this point: he will be on oxygen from now on. They will not be weaning him off of it ...at all. It will be a 24 hour a day thing for life. He will be on a bipap from now on.

They are discussing the possibility of ordering a wheelchair. They will be ordering a walker. How long it will take him for him to be able to ambulate without the walker, we have no idea. We also don't know if he will. We're in limbo at this point. We don't know what our new version of normal will be, and we don't know how long it will be before we know what our new version of normal will be.

The nurses, PT's and OT's are so excited because he can do so much more than they'd ever expected him to do. They don't understand our discouragement, frustration and fear. They just don't seem to realize that he really was NOT sedentary ...and that getting used to the idea of having to live on oxygen, and having to get used to the possibility of needing walking assistance ...and wondering how long it will be before he can just decide to go out by himself and get a cup of coffee ... IF he'll ever be able to do that again.

On the mom front, when she fell and broke her finger, the day after Don was hospitalized (no, not the broken hand & ribs, that was a few weeks before this) she'd also injured her knee. She had an MRI and today we got the results. A piece of bone had broken off and is floating around the knee cap. The ortho doc gave her a shot in hopes to settle down the inflammation. Mom is not willing to have him operate to take the bone out right now. I can't say that I was cheering for her to opt for the surgery option at this point.

The reality is, she needs that knee replaced and he is probably going to try to talk her into just doing the whole thing when it's time. It's going to take quite the talking with as much trouble as she had with the first knee replacement.

Monday she went to the PCP to talk about her falling and her memory issues. I had to drop my kids off at church for church camp and was not able to be there. She knew this, and immediately called me and asked to have Samuel come over to help with some chores (um ...hello?).

I see the PCP tomorrow at my psychologists request ... because ...in her words ... I look awful ... lupus rash, low muscle tone in my face, sighing between sentences ... in other words: autoimmune mess. I will ask PCP about her impressions then.

I will also most likely get a prednisone dose pack for me.

We have no estimate of discharge yet, it's not on the table yet. So it will be at least next week, if not the following week, they are not in a hurry. He has a long way to go before he's ready to come home.

Father's Day

Today was Father's Day.

It's the first Father's Day I spent with my real father since I was 13. He's been in town for the last week. I only spent about 30 minutes with him, he came up to the hospital to see Don and the boys and I. My sister's family had been passing around a respiratory infection ..and my Dad caught it, so he was wearing a mask. I'd suggested (strongly) that coming up was not a good idea, but he came anyway, insisting that he wanted to see Don one more time. He told Don on the phone that it was just a sore throat. Then when they got ready to leave the room (they leave town tomorrow) K (his new wife) said that the night before he'd been coughing so bad he'd not even been able to lie down to sleep and had to sleep sitting up. I, was not amused. The mask had better have been enough to keep from passing the germs on. It's obviously highly contagious because it made the rounds through my sisters kids, then onto my Dad ... it's the last thing Don needs and I take strong drugs to suppress my immune system (Cellcept and prednisone).

A friend came by to see Don, and brought her 2 children. They'd used their Bible bucks at church to buy Don father's day gifts. They don't have a father in their lives. They adore Don, and they look to him for leadership and as a male role model. They love him dearly. It touched Don more than anyone could have imagined. Including my own kids. They were so proud of their little friends, and so happy to share their Dad with the kids ... it was really special.

Don has a particular gift he wants ... and it's specific, and he and the boys are supposed to get it together. So, we were waiting till he got out of the hospital so they can go get it together ...rather than me messing it up and getting the wrong one. (tecno gadget MP3 player). The boys were just tickled Daddy got to open something on Father's Day. Don was worried they'd feel bad ...and they were so relieved he had something to open.

Don, is getting very depressed over his lack of progress in gaining strength and mobility. With no permanent answers, and the possibility of this new lifestyle change ...dependency ..adjustment ... it's hard. My heart is breaking for him. I'm so glad that I've made the choice to stay with him this week. I know he said he wanted me to go to camp, but emotionally, he really could not have taken me being gone this week.

I'm really getting weary ...and today has been particularly hard. I was walking down the hallway of the hospital and just got suddenly angry at my step father for not being here ... for leaving me when I was 14 ... I need his support and unconditional love right now. I need those strong loving arms right now that will tell me that all will be ok ...that regardless .. he's there ...only ... he's not ..and he never will be again.

Tomorrow, my mom goes in for an evaluation with the PCP, again, for her frequent falling (did I post that the day after Don was admitted to the hospital that she broke her finger? ... the forefinger on the hand with the cast ...that made 5 bones in 9 weeks that she'd broken) and she's also going to include her jerky movements, her inability to complete thoughts and her forgetfulness.

I'm supposed to be there, but I have to take my kids to the church to take them to camp. I can't be in 2 places at one time ... I had to make a choice. As much as I've been fighting to get my mom some help, I really need to take my kids and to be able to hug 'my girl's' and explain to them why I'm not going to camp.

The PCP appointment is to get a referral to a neurologist ...so hopefully I will be able to accompany her on that appointment. In the meantime, maybe me not being there to interpret what's going on just might do more good in getting a diagnosis than if I am there??? Maybe if they can't follow her, they'll get what we're dealing with. Maybe I'm just wishful thinking. Right now, that has to be left in God's hands.

I wish I had better news ... Today (Father's day) is 26 days in the hospital. We're both so weary and trying so hard to not be weary. I think, if we had some answers besides "we'll know more in 6 months" it would be so much easier.

Hiatus

Today, I just made a really hard phone call.

I called a friend, who happens to be an elder of our church, and a member of our church transition team, and told her that I needed to take a hiatus from all my responsibilities at church.

From the worship team secretary, to youth group counselor & youth group sunday school assistant ... ministry team representative for worship team & children's ministry ... small group leader.



I don't even know what all I do ... I just do it.

Right now, we have no answers ... they don't know if the weakness & nerve pain in his hands and arms & legs that are interferring with his functioning is because of the degree of combativeness that he had ...and the scoliosis and the displaced spinal cord and foramen ... and therefore damaged while he was fighting us ...

or were the nerves just bruised and will they heal ... it could take up to 6 months before we know if he will regain any of the use of his arms and legs enough to know.

Right now, he can't take care of himself. He can't stand up on his own, he can't dress himself, and he has to have help to get up just to go to the bathroom. He even gets exhausted feeding himself.

He is still in need of oxygen just to exist in bed and to do what he is doing.

Today was day 25 in the hospital ... we're both on the weary side.

Updating on a rollercoaster

Today, I went into the hospital to see my husband as usual. When I arrived, the physical therapist had just cajoled him out of bed to work on his endurance and taking a few steps. He'd really not felt good and had to be talked into it, but he was.

He walked about halfway down the hall with the walker and the PT supporting him. By the time he got there, he was almost angry. I can't say I blame him. 21 days today. And he's been couped up and tied up to machines, and he's just facing such an unknown.

The doctor came up while he was trying to get walking again. She told us the news that Don most did not want to hear. That the existing problem ( C5/C6 movement, with exposed spinal cord) was worsened, significanlty. It's now the C5/C6 & C6/C7 and the spinal cord is displaced with (?iffy on medical facts here, not sure I fully understand) the foramen exposed as well.

This, is what's causing the extreme pain and weakness in his arms. Which, for him, IS his mobility. His arms propel him while he walks, they lift him to a standing position and help to stablize him. But at least he's going, for now. The pain from the spinal issue is causing significant pain in his hands though, and gripping the walker is quite difficult. He dropped his fork several times today and could not lift the cover off the food with his right hand. The loss of control has us very concerned.

If the EMG is right... the damage is done, and as long as the nerves are compressed in the neck, there is nothing that can be done ... and well, with Don's repsiratory system, he's not a candidate for the surgery.

They also think the C5/C6 exposure is what is increasing his breathing difficulties. The C5 is what effects the breathing & swallowing muscles.

So, once again, we are waiting to see ... what's next and where we go from here.

Interpretations

I thought Don was doing so well ... and today, a reality check. We're waiting to get him into the Long Term Care facility ...and one doctor is holding it up. We're not sure why. We find out today, it's because he doesn't come over there daily ... the specialists just come over there occassionally ... once or twice a week.

Don has to be stable enough to not need HIS care daily. Oh. So, Don has to become stable enough to move him to this long term care facility for Critically Ill patients .... oh.

Reality check time. He's better, he's significantly better. He's but he's still very sick.

The doctors are a little frustrated with him wanting one thing one day and then not agreeing to it when they go to do it. Either they're not listening, or they're not understanding that they haven't made themselves clear to us. They haven't explained to us how the Bipap machine works ..and why he can't be on oxygen for 4 hours and then on the Bipap for 2 hours, off for 4 hours .. and only today was I told, it can't be done that way ... I still don't know why ...just that it can't. They are seeing him as non compliant, and we are not understanding and asking for explination. The really frustrating thing ...this is my most beloved doctor in the whole world ... I love this man dearly and when Don was so sick and his partner was seeing Don (his partner is on vactation, so he is seeing him now) Dr. G saw me, gave me a hug and I just kind of fell and melted and started to cry, he let me cry and just held me.
We have a 10 year relationship ... and I knew his Mamma for 5 years before that. His mom had myasthenia and had it from the time he was a teenager. It's not like he doesn't get serious illness ... he gets it all too well ... and from the family side of it ...

Somewhere there is a glitch and I'm not sure where ... we do know he's doing medically right by Don, we're just confused. The poor hospitalist thinks that there is a conflict between us ...and doens't realize that we simply asked him the questions because we were unsure of what was going on ... No, we will always love Dr. G ... but we also trust him enough to ask him questions, either directly, or ask the person who's going to talk to him next ...to tell him ..these are our concerns.

But somehow, it's making Don look like he's not being cooperative ... I think the breakdown is happening at the Respiratory Therapist level ... instead of taking the time to listen to Don and answer his questions and find out for him what the doctor means ... they just say "well, you can refuse treatment if you want" and then hook him back up to oxygen and don't mess with it, or leave him hooked up to the bipap for extra time ...

This should change in the long term care ...

Rough Day

Today is a rough day.

They haven't moved him yet to the Long Term Care facility.

They did get him an air mattress so that it protects his skin and joints. It took them about 30 minutes and he was in a chair the whole time. It completely wiped him out, and 3 hours later, he still had not recovered.

His hours on the Bipap have been changed to 9 pm to 8 am, solid then from noon till 5pm. So he'll be off of it from 8 am to noon, and 5 to 9.

So, he'll have 8 hours a day off, and during times that he can visit with people.

He was hurting so bad today. His right arm is hurting and there is some numbness. He keeps having it jerk, almost like you'd see in some parkinsons patients. It woke him up 2 times this afternoon when he hit the bedrail. He is loosing some control over it. The doctors are aware of it, and are watching it carefully. It is something they will address in the long term care facility.


Today was a tiring day, for both of us. I don't know why we both felt kind of discouraged and tired.

I left the hospital a little early and decided I wasn't ready to face home ..and ran away ... I went to an IHOP and then called my friend Teresa, the one who lost the baby girl a few weeks ago. I was going to ask her if she could come up and sit with me. I called her and told her I'd kind of ran away and was hiding from the world and she said "Oh, I'm up at IHOP talking with J & R" *blink*
Thanks God ... you knew just what I needed.

Faithful

I woke up today and had decided to go ahead and go to church. It's been quite a while since I was sick before all this happened with Don.

I got dressed in a black jumper dress, tourquoise blouse, and black shoes. I went to choose my jewelry and decided on some that meant something to me. To others, it would just be Peggikaye in her elephants again.

To me, it was not just because I like elephants, but, a while back I figured out what it was about elephants that facinated me so. It all came down to Dr. Suess.
I meant what I said
And I said what I meant....
An elephant's faithful
One hundred per cent!

Faithfulness. Today, I wore a tangible reminder of faithfulness. A necklace a friend gave me, a bracelet my husband gave me, an anklet I bought with a gift certificate someone else gave me. All elephants.

God's faithfulness to me ... and my friends faithfulness to me ... the faithfulness has been more than visible this last 2 weeks, but tangible.

Tonight, as I sat next to Don, while he slept on the Bipap, some questions still unanswered, not knowing what lies ahead ... I knew one thing was for sure. God was with us. God had been with us through the last 11 days or so ...and God would be with us.

It is strange ... to feel so worn out, so tired, so ... weary ... to have so many questions looming in the air ...

and yet, to feel so comforted, and so peaceful ...and to feel so confident at the same time.

I guess, the scripture that says that in our weakness, He is made strong ... is how this is lived out. Every moment, I must lean on God's strength, God's wisdom and God's faithfulness ...

My new counselor asked me at my second session when I'd felt safe in my life. Really safe ... it hasn't been often. There hasn't been a whole lot of security.

I told her about the dark times in my marriage and how the sanctuary in my church provided that safety for me. How Sanctuary, became more than a archetectual term, but lived out it's original meaning for me. It was my place of safety for a long time.

And now, this last 11 days, ironically ... I have felt that safety ... that sanctuary ... that I am safe in God's arms ... never closer to God as I have been in the last few days ... as tired, and weary and battle worn ...

I am sure of this one thing ... I know whom I have believed, and He is able to keep that which I've committed, unto Him, until that day.

What's more ... my husband, is one of those things I've committed ... and I'm sure he can keep my husband and the things that he has committed as well.

TALK About it Talk ABOUT it Talk about IT

First, the update. Every question posted in the previous post is still on the table. They are moving him to a long term care facility. We will see if we can get him off the external ventilation during the day, or if this will be a way of life, and if, he is willing to live a life this way if he cannot get off the machinery.

He will most likely have a brand new baseline in life. Oxygen full time, and most likely, walking again, isn't going to happen.

Questions are being shot at me right and left about what can the church do for me. What calls need to be made to Habitat to accomodate our house ...what do we need to do.

The answer is simple. Nothing.

While we were really not prepared for this to happen in reality, in practicality, we honestly did know it was going to happen. There is no step leading to our house. There is a ramp from the driveway to our door. The doorways are an inch wider than most ..and the bathtub has a bar. This house was built with the idea that one day, the post polio would become an issue for Don, and we did not want to have to modify the house at that time.

The decisions to be made about machines, and life sustaining are simply a matter of what amount of healing, restoration can we gain for his body. How much recovery can he get. The choices he's made, have long since been made, discussed, talked about till we were blue in the face. I could recite them on ambien. In the middle of chaos, I know exactly what his choices are ...and this weekend, I knew on the worst day, when he was crashing, and it was clear that things could go sour very fast, what choices might have to be made. We'd talked so often, and so thoroughly, there simply is no questions of 'what does he want?'

Our faith, is so solid, we feel the presence of God, strong ..and solid .. in the middle of this horrible storm, we know beyond a shadow of a doubt, that He is there ...and that we are in the palm of His hand.

Quite frankly, I'm not ready for my husband to leave my presence, but, I know that he will not be hurting if he does go. I will be heartbroken, I will be more sad than I can even imagine being. But, my faith, is probably on more solid ground than it's ever been. I feel God's presence as much as I ever have.

I've watched the families in the ICU waiting rooms ... as they've not known what their loved one would want. They are try to make life and death decisions for someone who isn't awake, and they have no idea what that person feels about extended care, extensive machinery ... or quality of life issues. They have no peace, they have only confusion ...and they feel totally disconnected from their loved one.

Even when Don was at his worst, I knew that because we'd talked about it so often, we were in this together.

I beg of you, talk to your families and friends ... how do you feel about your care when the bleak comes. Talk about every imaginable situation. What kind of situation is ventilation ok in, when is it not. Is it ok for pneumonia? Is it ok to see if they can find improvement for a few days, then they need to turn it off if there is none? What are your wishes, talk about them ... talk about the details. And make sure that you're prepared for a new way of life if something happens.

Don't let the worst catch you in a state of confusion. It doesn't help things.

I feel like I've been pushed through a key hole and pulled out backwards this week and the one thing I don't feel, is confused. It's a matter of waiting to see how the circumstances unfold, and knowing we're in God's hands.

It's not fun. It's harder than I could ever have guessed. But we talked about it. You should too. You can't imagine the peace of mind it brings.

We knew, we have always known

Post polio syndrome, scoliosis.

I've blogged somewhere in this blog.

Sometime, the post polio my husband has, and the scoliosis that resulted would be my husbands undoing.

The muscles would decide they are too tired. The twisting would cause the internal organs to just have to work too hard.

They told him when he was younger, he would never make it to 35. (they didn't even know what post polio was back then, yet, they knew it was coming, he was so severe!)

He passed 35 ... 37 ...40 ...and 42 ..and he just seemed to get healthier ..not worse.

As time went by and they addressed his different conditions ... it all seemed to work.

He hit 50 ...and he decided he did not like who he was as a person. He had few friends, and he was a hard man to live with. Bitterness was eating him alive. His health issues, was the least of his problems. He examined who he was ...and decided that what he knew about God, was really the key. He decided to put God first ... and instantly, his life changed. WE changed as a couple. WE changed as a family.

For the last year and a half ...we've enjoyed life more than I ever could have imagined. Life, has been good to us. God, has been good to us. We got our house, we have 2 great kids.

In my mind, I watched this amazing man walk and just knew that the doctor's had been wrong ... he was going to outlive us all. His determination to function and life a full life was amazing.

He was going to go back to school in the fall, finish his bachelor's degree. (Only 2 semesters, he was just 3 hours when I got sick, things change and technology changes in 15 years ...and well, now it's 2 semesters) He rarely walks with even the cane that he has.

Plans for a business, a ministry ... and to watch our sons grow up. Our youngest to be a chef ..and the oldest to be a doctor. His plans to help our youngest in his business adventure of owning a resteraunt ...and his plans of making a doctor son care for his medical needs.

And one day a cough won't stop ...and the next thing we know ...we're in the hospital. They can't find out what's wrong ...and he's degenerating. It's not pneumonia as first thought. I was upset ...we've been here before! I'm rather insistant! Go back 2 years ago! Look at his records! This has happened before ...only it hasn't.

The infection clears up ... the blood work is clear. The spudem culture shows body fluid ...and no reversable cause is found.

The worst possible diagnosis is given. End stage post polio.

The pulmonologist says that he's seen this happen ...some times you see it coming a mile away, and sometimes they are mowing the lawn one day, and the next day their body simply says "I'm done"

From all he knows about Don's functioning and who Don is.... Don is the latter. Yea, We've always known that would be the case.

I just thought .. he'd make it to 75 ... I really had talked myself into believing it would never happen. He'd outlive me.

So now, we have choices to make that no one should ever have to make.

We don't know where things stand.

Will he recover enough to make it for a while longer, and then in a few months this happen again? Will he make it enough to just have the bipap at night? Will he recover enough to come home with the bipap and be able to live full time on the bipap ...and is he willing to live on the bipap ...or would he rather go see his Savior?

He's fully aware today, of what's going on and what decisions we're facing. We have talked about this day for 20 years. We are standing as a couple, as one. We are standing together ... in prayer ..supported by our church family.

We don't know what tomorrow holds .. we don't know what decisions will be made. We don't know what the next hour holds. We simply don't know. We just have always known.

For the Love of My Life

For the Love of My Life.

Please honey, please, get better. It's not time.
The day will come when it's the polio, but for right now, it's got to be something reversible ... we have too much love still .. too much fun and too much life to experience together in front of us. Too many plans left unlived.

Ya gotta fight this babe.

If You Leave Me Now - P. Cetera

If you leave me now, you'll take away the biggest part of me
No baby please don't go
If you leave me now, you'll take away the very heart of me
No baby please don't go
A love like ours is love that's hard to find
How could we let it slip away
We've come too far to leave it all behind
How could we end it all this way
When tomorrow comes we'll both regret
Things we said today

Cause I need you more than you'll ever know

Visual DNA

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

I was a bit surprised where I stood in the general public (who took this quiz anyway)
The percentage of people who are like me in the different area's:
In Art:5%
In Music: 6%
My Treat: 15%
My Landscape: 11%
My Freedom: 5%
My Love: 19%
My Gross:9%
My Like to do: 4%
My Exciting Free time: 2%
My Holiday: 6%
My Vice: 5%
My Bedroom: 4%
My Drink: 8%

WELL ... no one could accuse me of running with the crowd! I wonder, am I in the top percentile or the bottom? *blink*

What are you afraid of?

I'm seeing a new therapist. She, like my psychiatrist, can read me. She's not going to let me get away with much either.

My former therapist would ask me "what are you afraid of if you really feel?"

I'd give her some surface answers and we'd talk about them.

I started to answer and she said "Stop. Think. What will happen if you really FEEL?"

I froze. She knew me. She's seen me 2 times, at that point, she'd seen me for exactly 70 minutes of my life ...and she was already past my masks.

So, I had to reach past my own mask to where I'd not dared to go before.

What am I afraid of if I really feel the pain?

Permanence.

If I feel it. It's real. It's forever. It really happened. The person is really dead. The dreadful event really happened. My body really failed. It's real. I can't pretend that it's not.

It's permanent. It's real. If I really feel it. It's real.

Then she asked me when the last time that I felt safe was. Really safe.

Wow. Loaded question.

Tagged

My good friend Deneice tagged me.

Moof, you're safe, I won't tag you, you're too busy.

6 things that are unusual about me.

1. I think in sign language.
I learned sign language as a teenager. I was exposed to it as a toddler. My father taught at California School for the Deaf in the Bay Area when I was born, and until I was in early elementary age. I interpreted for a number of years. (never certified, don't ask, it's a sad tale of poor self esteem and stubbornness ...one of those "could have would have should have" stories...)I signed so often, that I now think in sign.

2. I collect elephants and pigs.
The elephants started when I was a 13 year old. The pigs started after the show CSI started. You don't want to know the whole violent story behind it. *grin*

3. My favorite job of all times was market research. I was one of those annoying people in the mall with a clipboard. You cannot believe what they paid me in 1985 compared to the minimum wage!

4. I rarely watch movies. I don't know why. I don't. Sigh

5. I can't stand being in unstructured groups. You'll find me against a wall, and as hidden as possible. Even if I know everyone in the room and have known them for years.

6. I do not like attention. I love to have fun, and I like to laugh. But I am not someone who likes to draw attention to myself in person.

I'm supposed to tag 6 people ...

Wanda, Alison, Biscotti Brain, Cathy, Todd, Beth

Woodpeckers

Saturday mornings. Sacred time for my parents to sleep in. Sunday's we had to get up early for church. Since my parents helped to start the church, and my step dad was one of the what would be known in most churches as a 'deacon' we had to be one of the first ones there to set up. First to arrive, last to leave. During the week, my Step Dad was a bus driver for a school district just outside our town, but within our school district. So, he had to get up very early and go into the bus barn, get a bus and drive the 40 minutes on the mountain roads to be at his first stop on time. He was usually out of the house by 4:30 am.

So, Saturdays ... his sacred sleep time.

Early Saturday mornings, in the 1970's for children, however, was cartoon time! HR Puff n Stuff, The Cosby Show, Sigmund the Sea Monster, Scooby Doo, Spider Man, you name it, from the time the sun came up till noon ... it was kid time in front of the TV! We knew when cartoon time was over, chore time would start ... before time for friends ... but the mornings ... were ours. Fun and fantasy.

Every saturday morning, my sister and I would sit in front of the TV. We'd get our bowls of cereal and get ready to watch our favorite shows. Before too long, outside we'd hear this
"tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap"
"tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap"

Within 5 minutes, my Step dad would come stomping down the hallway. Grumbling.
"that stupid woodpecker! Can't it let a grown man sleep? My only day to sleep in! Saturdays are SACRED, does the bird not KNOW that?"


"Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap" "Oh, you bird! I'm going to do away with you one day!!" He'd grumble and he'd plop down in his rocking chair. Green and blue, a tapestry type feel to the chair. His sparking eyes, and laughter in his voice belied the words he was using. The smile on his face, telling my sister and I, "good morning"


I would jump up, and go into the kitchen to get him a bowl of cereal. Wake him up with breakfast and there would be no way he'd fall back asleep! My sister would let him pick the cartoon next up. Anything to keep this 'grumbling giant' in our cartoon fest.

When he'd finish his cereal, he'd put the bowl on the table and I'd wait for the spoon to drop in the bowl. Within minutes, it never failed, that I'd find my way onto his lap. The safest place in my world to be. Nothing could harm me there, nothing could get to me. Life, was perfect in my Father's lap. The kids at school during the week who wanted to bully me ...were gone. Even my sister's teasing, no longer mattered, because I was in the arms of the man who told me that I mattered and that I would always be his darling. We would sit and watch those cartoons, every saturday morning ... week in and week out. Dad would continue to pretend to grumble about the awful woodpecker. I'd take my finger and poke him in the belly "peck peck peck" I'd say and grin and giggle. We'd both laugh as he was well aware that I knew that he loved being woke up by that "awful bird"

His friends at church, and work and in the neighborhood offered him MANY solutions to rid us of the pest. From shooting the bird, to poison to trapping ...and in the 8 years we lived there, he refused all traps. The "awful bird" had it's purpose. It had to intterupt his sacred sleep time. It had to give him his saturday mornings with his girls. That, to him, was far more sacred than any sleeping in could ever be.

You all know I love to post stories about what a wonderful man my Step dad was. It's not uncommon, especially in February or approaching Father's day ... so it's not unusal. But, the reason for this posting isn't just a casual mention of my Dad. It's not about the picture going up, and the learning to grieve ...although, I'm sure God is tying it all in ... I've no doubt that he is.
Do you remember, a few weeks ago, about easter time ..when I posted on Paradigm Shifting? As I talked about the changes I'd gone through with getting my house and the depression and adjustment problems I'd had when getting my house. The feelings of having stolen the house and God having to show me ... I'd not stolen this house, but earned it. I did in fact earn this house. I did in fact, earn the book. I did in fact, earn the life that God is giving me. It is a good thing to be in a good place!

So, I've been doing much better ... and daily, things are changing, and growing and I'm setting in more.

This week, I think, there was, excuse the pun, the final nail in the foundation of my house. I was sitting on my couch and looking out the window. It was the day after I'd pulled out the picture of Daddy. I was looking really over at the desk and the window and thinking how much Daddy would have liked this big old tree in my yard.

As I looked. I saw something

A woodpecker! On my tree! I didn't even know oklahoma had woodpeckers! AT all! In the 25 years that I've lived here ... I've never seen one! Or heard one!
It's not the same kind, but it's brightly colored like ours back home. Not crested on the head, a little smaller ... but it still goes "tap, tap, tap, tap," there will be no one, gettin rid of my woodpecker!

As I looked out the window, I sat on the couch, and I saw the woodpecker outside the window by the picture where my Dad is finally in a place of honor ..and I knew.

I am finally home. This IS MY HOME. My Dad, My daughter, Jessica Dawn have joined us as part of the family in memorium. And now, to seal the deal ... a woodpecker is coming to seal the deal.

Peck away sweet Woodpecker. Tap tap tap tap ... you noises are safe with me. Sing your song for my Daddy and me. We love to hear you! Your song means family time for us.

Learning more about grieving

A couple of months ago, my psychiatrist noted that I tend to throw important things away. The statement shocked me. But, he was right.

The comment kind of went through me ...why do I do that?
I don't have pictures up, I don't have reminders of my past ... I don't have memories hanging around ... I don't have momento's ... I don't have my trophies ... I don't have the important things that remind me of my successes or failures ... I don't keep the important things in life.

So .. he started the thought process going back then.

Then the issues with grieving came up when Kylie passed away.

So, I'm trying to really deal with grief, in a real way.

My step dad died in 1979. I've posted here many many times about him, so any regular reader of this blog knows how much I've loved him, how much he meant to me. How deeply his death impacted me. But, no picture of him existed in my house. Burried deep in a box, I finally found a picture of him. I got it out, and brushed it off ..and put it in a little frame and put it on the computer desk. Right next to Jessica's bank.

Monday Evening, Benjamin walked up to me. "Mom, who is this?" As he handed me the picture. My heart sank. My beloved Daddy ... this man who's meant more to me than anyone ... my kids know my step dad .. they know the stories ...they know how much I loved him ...but they'd never seen his picture!! How could I have done that to them ..to him?

I've fixed that now.

Daddy is on the desk, smiling at me while I type. His sparkling eyes and his great big smile reminding me just how much he loved me. Unconditional ... and forever.(when we get a scanner up, I'll scan the picture in, this is a picture of the picture)

Mother's Day

Well, anyone who's read this blog for any length of time knows how much I despise the color purple. As well as knowing how much my mother loves the color purple.

Well, for Mother's Day, I came up with THE plan ... I wore a solid purple suit to church today. Just for her.

As she came into the gym where we were having the breakfast, she saw me and said "Is this for me?" and I said yes. Her eyes teared up and I knew I'd made the right choice. Ironically enough, THIS year, they chose to take pictures of all the mother's and their children ... including adult mom's and daughters! So she will have a keepsake of my gift to her!

She called me this afternoon to say thank you, that it was really better than anything that I could have bought her.

So, for me, for Mother's Day, I have my Swing that was bought for me a couple of months ago, and my husband is grilling steaks. He also bought me some Twizzler's. :)

For myself, I decided to take a picture of Jessica Dawn's bank and stocking to post it here. I've been researching a bit of what a 20 week pregnancy was developmentally, where she was. So, some day this week, I will post where she was when she went to be with Jesus. So, for my gift to me, I'm getting to know Jessica a little more.

The difference is the size of their Toys

The newest edition of the Eagler's household is my husband's 'lawnmower'.

Twitch standing guard.


Checking out the engine (again ...from a different angle ya know?)


Gotta read the horsepower up close! (it might have changed in the rain!)


Now really, can you mow with your foot in there?, is that safe?


Um, can you mow the lawn from inside the porch railing?

Take note of Twitch's ears, he is SO not happy about Don being on HIS tractor!!!

These were the pictures that were emailed to us before we bought it. We bought it from a young man who'd bought it at the end of 2004, used it for the summer of 2005, 2006, and then a couple of weeks ago, went out and bought a zero radius turn tractor. His wife, is fit to be tied. He had to unload this one, and fast .. at a loss if necessary so she didn't have to look at 2 perfectly good tractors ... Which, is what enabled Mr. Eagler to get his toy ..er Tractor ...








Note ... the most important feature

The cup holder ...for the coffee.

Grief

I'm not sure I understand the grieving process. The minds insistance on dealing with issues ...even if you, as the owner of the experience choose to not deal with a situation that causes pain. You can put it aside for a time, sometimes a long period of time ..but eventually it will surface. Sometimes you can see the trigger that causes it, other times not.

It is quite normal for men and women to not deal with issues of abuses in childhood to start to deal with them in their mid to late thirties and into the the forties.

An anniversary of a death, or a friend becoming ill with an illness that took the life of a loved one.

For me, dealing with my step father's suicide ... it was having a few friends who were suicidal ...all coinciding with the 25th anniversary of his death. That forced me to actually look at how his death had not only effected me but what meaning was I going to let it bring to life.

I have had a few situations that were grief causing situations. I did not find the people around me very understanding of the pain I was going through. "He was 'just' your step dad!" I can't even count the number of times I heard that comment. (um, he married my mom when I was 13 months old, sorry, he was my Daddy)

The dismissal of my pain, soon caused me to stuff the pain.

When I went through my divorce ...that one I learned to stuff fast "you're young, you'll marry again!"
Wow! I heard that comment the WEEK of my ex asking me for a divorce ...
With in a week of the divorce being granted ... life was expected to go on ... Happy shall we be! "Speak only good words over your life or you'll give the devil a foothold to destroy your life!"
Grief? Not allowed ... only allowed to speak good!
There was no one that I could tell of the feelings of loss, betrayal, fear ... and just plain being ripped in two.

Then I married again. I got pregnant ... I felt the baby move a little early, but not too much, about 16 weeks. I went in for my prenatal appointment. It was time for an ultrasound. They'd told me that if the baby was in the right position, and it was clear enough, they might be able to tell me what the baby was. As I lay there, listening to the heart beat, they said the heart beat was 162 bpm ...and they did the ultrasound ...all I could see was the spine and the head and some fingers. The technition called the doctor in so I could be told what the sex of the baby was, because she (tech) was pretty sure she could tell. The doctor said that he would bet it was a girl. He said, that ultrasounds weren't perfect. So don't go pink crazy yet. Wait till we do a later ultrasound.

I didn't ... I knew in my heart that this was a little girl. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that God had answered my prayers.

I ran home from the doctor's and told Don. We immediately came up with a name

Jessica Dawn Eagler.

She was due the end of the year ... a New Years Baby ...we talked about how fun it would be to have the first baby of the year and how much we did NOT want a Christmas baby.

Jessica was after his grandmother Jesse and a friend of mine, Jessica, who'd died when she was 14.

I was just starting to wear maternity clothing and was having so much fun. I was waitressing and so enjoyed telling my customers that it was a girl named Jessica Dawn, after my friend, her great Grandmother and her Daddy Don.

Then, one night, I was waitressing in August, I felt sick. Just sick. I didn't hurt, I was just sick. I was a bit dizzy and I couldn't handle the heat of the resteraunt. I almost passed out a couple of times.

I told my boss I had to go home at 1 in the morning ...and I started to go home. Instead, I drove to the ER. We had no phone at home, so I couldn't call my husband. It didn't occur to me to call anyone else, a friend, a family member. I didn't want to make a fuss.

In the ER ... the doctor asked me if I was having pain .. I said no. He looked at me funny, like he didn't believe me. They did some lab work and gave me a pelvic exam. He asked again about pain as they hooked me up to a monitor for the baby. There was no heartbeat. I started to cry. I told him again there was no pain. He just didn't believe me. I really honestly don't remember if there was no pain, or if I wouldn't accept that there was no pain. I kept telling him I was sick to my stomach, there was no pain.

By 6 in the morning, August 19, 1988, I'd lost Jessica Dawn Eagler.
She'd died.
The medical records reflected that it was a 19.5 week pregnancy. A miscarriage.
But, by my count from my due date, I was past 20 weeks and almost 21 weeks. A stillbirth.


My sister "miscarried" at the same point in a pregnacy several years later, and was given the choice of picking 20 weeks or 19 weeks. With 20 weeks, by law, you're required to have the funeral. 19 weeks, it's a miscarried. The mom is 'spared' the stress of the funeral. My sister, much to my dismay, chose the 19 weeks.

I was not given the choice. They made the decision for me. I'd have taken the 20. I needed the finalization of saying goodbye. Although, right then or there, I'm not sure what my decision would have been.

I think it was the few days after as people were acting like we'd lost our newspaper that I'd wished we'd had the funeral. For people to realize, we'd lost a BABY. We lost a part of our family.

We bought a little silver bear from an engravement shop that says "Jessica Dawn
8-19-88 We love you" and we thought ...we would always keep her center of our thoughts. Christmas time, my mom and Don's mom bought a little ornament with her name engraved on it. Don and I bought her a stocking that we put up every year.

When Samuel was about 6, he asked what the stocking was for. We explained that he had a sister in heaven. We asked him to not tell his brother, but to let his brother figure out the stocking or the bank, like he did ..and ask in his own time. Being a little boy, he couldn't wait to tell his little brother about his sister in heaven. So, a few weeks later Benjamin shocked me as he asked "When do I get to see my sister Jessica?"

Over the years, Benjamin has occassionally asked questions out of the blue like that. He talks about Jessica as if he knows her. To them, it's not a question that she is a part of our family. Don, and I, do not talk about her. The loss, is too painful. Her bank sits on our computer desk, and occassionally we both look at it, and I can still see the pain in his eyes when the stocking is hung. When Benjamin says something about her, I feel like I've been jabbed.

When Kylie died last week ... Benjamin's comment was "Jessica is there to show her around"

Woah.

For the last few days, I've been staring at Jessica's bank. As we had a senior graduation banquet this weekend at church, the realization that she would have been a Senior in High School that would have been her in one of those beautiful dresses ...

So, why Kylie's death has forced these memories, I'm not sure. My psychiatrist wasn't surprised at all. His response was "maybe now you can get to know your daughter as well as Benjamin knows his sister"

Daughter.

wow. My daughter. I've never dared to call her that. It makes my stomach turn flip flops and it hurts my heart ... she's the baby we lost.

My Daughter, Jessica Dawn ... I wonder what you would look like at 18? I've always pictured you with dark curly hair like your daddy ... blue eyes like mine ... and more than likely ornery like me. What are you like in heaven? Are you a baby? Are you 18? Are you taking care of Kylie for Teresa like I'd like you to? What does time do with babies who are stillborn? My Daughter, Jessica Dawn.

Advertising and Blogs

I know that many blogs are simply advertisments. I know that many people are dead set against using their blogs as advertisments. I know that many people fall somewhere in between.

Recently, I added an ad to mine that said I could earn money if I put that ad on my blog. So far, nada ... I'm not sure what it's doing ...but ... no one has complained about it ..so .. oh well.

But, right now, I'm going to put a blatant ad on my blog. Why? Because it's for a business that I think needs some advertisement and one that I think has a very good product.

Now, anyone who knows me knows that I'm not exactly a person who goes for alternative medicine. You have to really really convince me of something before I will believe it. This site, is an alternative medicine, sort of, site. It's actually an Herbalists site.

Now, the person who runs it is not your run of the mill herbalist. She has her RN, and she knows what it's like to hurt. She does not throw traditional medicine out the window, she has her own MD and she believes in working with the person's belief's.

She produces a quality product. She started out many years ago ... learning a little here and and there, by that, I don't mean hit and miss, I mean ... she studied ... and didn't just fly off the handle and decided that she knew it all at once.

She really took the time to learn it before she applied it.

She didn't make something until she knew what she was making and how it could help. She started out, if I remember right by getting a massage therapy liscence (although, much to my chagrin, she doesn't do massages anymore, sigh) And month by month, week by week and day by day has educated herself ... through many different resources and experts as to what herb does what.

Her products, are top notch. I have come to rely heavily on her healing salve.

I get sores in my nose, in my mouth and on the edges of my mouth from the lupus, and I've tried everything the rheumatologist has recomended ...and ya know, the Healing Salve is the only thing that helps. Instant pain relief when I put it on the nose or lips sores! When you're talking a lupus sore ...that, is saying something.
This is what her website says about the Healing Salve"
"Ingredients are known to speed healing and repair damage of the skin, due to surgery, insect bites, cuts & scrapes, reduces pain, inflammation, decreases chance of infection and may reduce scarring.
Has effectively been used on diaper rash, surgical incisions, yeast infections, for dried and cracking skin conditions"

My she has a treatment for acne ..although, I'm not sure what it's called, it's on the website.

She has the MOST incredible bath salts ... of every imaginable kind!!
She has mom and baby products, I will have to admit ... with my youngest being 15 ... I've not looked much at those :)

Her lip balm ... would give anything you can buy in the store a run for it's money ... including my no longer favorite ... Carmex! My sons like it better than Blistex, I can't compare it to Blistex since I'm highly allergic to Blistex. I can say I like hers better than Carmex.

Now ... if I sound over the top ... and I probably do ... you have to understand ...I was propbably the hardest person for her to convince. I probably should have been the easiest ... after all ... I am her sister in law. But ... I've been a hard and fast anti alternative medicine person ..and I was not an easy sell ... but I can promise you, her products are absolutely incredible.

They smell absolutely fantabulous ...

As someone who is very skeptical ... I am also very satisfied.

My favorite would have to be
Lip balm
Healing salve (necessary!)
Romance Lotion. *smells heavenly!!!)

Please please, go visit Healingherbals.org
or email HealingHerbals2001@aol.com
and tell Pam that Peggikaye sent ya ...
she will treat ya right. I promise!!!

Springtime

A year ago, the address I'm writing from didn't even exist.

The lot was here, but it was an empty corner lot. The street running to the side of our house was the official street address of our lot. Actually, several lots. Then, we got the lots and the city re zoned it so that the house would face Cedar instead of Houston ... and gave the whole several lots one address ... and a new address that never existed before in the city's history was born.

Fedex just dropped off a box of medicine to my house. I was staring out the window contemplating a brand new address that had never existed and he just walked up to the door ... and rang the bell.

Our spring weather isn't really being nice ... it's been kind of painful ... my muscles and joints just are not responding well to the changes and the constant air pressure change. I hurt everywhere and I can't seem to make it stop.

This week, I wrote an article for a youth ministry forum, Youth Ministry Exchange. It is an important, but difficult subject. Written to youth pastors on how to recognise if one of their youth members has been raped. I shared the article with my psychiatrist who asked me, what I hope was a rhetorical question (meaning, I hope he wasn't asking me specificially) question of "How can we better 'equip the saints' to reach past our social etiquette?"

Given how firmly I denied everything for as long as I did, I don't have the answer.

On the lighter side, my son got a digital camera this week. He's going camera crazy. He needs to practice his expression when taking his own picture ... a bit too much concentration. :)

However, I am glad because I finally got a picture of my kitchen table ... I have been wanting to get it. It's a beautiful table and it's unusual. Everyone comments on it when they see it ... and I'm absolutely sure there is some history behind it somewhere. It's maple and it is not veneer. That is thick maple, heavy ... beautiful. We have the matching buffet to it too. My parents bought it at an antique shop in 1965 or 1966.



Keep Teresa and her family in your prayers, she's going to need it for quite some time to come.

Kylie Jade Kesterson

Last June, I posted about a friend's baby, Kylie They'd found a tumor in her brain ...and they were going to operate ...and we needed to find out. What was the tumor? was it dangerous? It was, in fact, very dangerous.





Teresa and Kylie Kesterson, and family, began a fight to fight this monster ... an ATRT tumor.

This morning at 4 am, Kylie went to be with Jesus.

No more pain, no more needles, no more surgery. She can see normally out of both eyes and she can run and play like other 2 year old girls.

Kylie Bug ... you touched my life in a way you'll never understand. You were a sweet little girl, with a firey spirit and I will forever be glad that you were a presence in my life. Thank you.

Kylie Jade Kesterson
January 18, 2005 to April 28, 2007,



Kylie with her 2 brothers.

Denominationa footfalls

You scored as Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan. You are an evangelical in the Wesleyan tradition. You believe that God's grace enables you to choose to believe in him, even though you yourself are totally depraved. The gift of the Holy Spirit gives you assurance of your salvation, and he also enables you to live the life of obedience to which God has called us. You are influenced heavly by John Wesley and the Methodists. Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan 93% Fundamentalist 79% Reformed Evangelical 64% Neo orthodox 61% Emergent/Postmodern 43% Charismatic/Pentecostal 39% Modern Liberal 36% Classical Liberal 29% Roman Catholic 21% What's your theological worldview? created with QuizFarm.com

Friends don't let friends ....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B6zWhM1woRI

Power

In the first month of my blogging ... I blogged about discovering that my life could be compared to a train ... and this week ... I came across a train on it's tracks and it made me think of life in terms of a train once again. I'd forgotten about my own life comparrison to a train. Until I decided to blog about it.

The minute I started to do so, my brain went ..wait? What did I say before ... So, I found it ...

Tuesday, November 30, 2004
I have learned I am a ChooChoo train ......

I think I have figured out how I cope with things. I've been calling it compartmentalizing, but it's more than that. I have people who will come up to me a week or so after I've been sick, or after the boys have been sick and ask if everything is ok and I just give them this blank look, I've gone on, I have no clue what they''re talking about. Those things happen so much, once it's over, it's over ... I just say that I've compartmentalized it and gone on, and that's the best explination I've had ... but today, I came up with a better one ...

I'm a train and I have all these train cars that I have that I'm tugging behind me. Some, like lupus, MG, kids with TS are permanent, other's like flu and Bj's meningitis are temporary.
When I get sick with the flu, the flu car gets coupled to my train, making my train just a little harder to pull, I need more steamto get to where I'm going. But when the flu is over, I stop,and uncouple that car and leave it behind, going on with my journey.
The eating disorder car, that's probably a permanent car, but it's cargo has been unloaded, it will always be attatched, but the heavy burdened load it was weighted with has been removed, so now, it's just an empty car that I have to be careful doesn't get loaded up again.

I have to be careful that I don't keep going on my journey with train cars that don't need to be still attatched. If one is done, it's important to remember to stop and uncouple it, dragging cars that are no longer existing, is going to make my journey harder. (If I'm constantly thinking about how many cars of colds I've had this year, and not uncoupling them, I need to know how many I've had so my doctor's can take good care of me, but not dwell on them so to speak)

I also need to make sure that I have all the appropriate car trains attatched. So that my train is properly balanced. I have my church car, my family car and my friends car.

When the journey gets hard, is it the tracks are going through mountainous regions ? or is that I have more cars attatched and are they permanent and therefore I need to figure out how to add more coal to the engine? Or is it that a temporary flu car has been added that will shortly be uncoupled and out of my way?
*************************************************************************************

So ... I've got that part figured out ...but what I failed to figure out was ...who and what is controling the engine cars? AM I the engine cars? Am I the engineer? Do I simply hire someone? Contract that job out? Or, am I the engine of the train itself.

The engine of the train, is in fact, it's most important factor.


Without an engine ... the train simply sits on the tracks ... doing nothing ... and going no where ... just sitting waiting for the cargo to be loaded or unloaded. Sitting there ... rusting ...useless in their journey. Their wheels cannot be used for what God intended the wheels to be used for, because the engine is not pullinging them.
They sit ... quiet, and unassuming, apparently useless, maybe having had a use at one time, but now pitiful and with soemthing to be written off as potentially useful.


With the engine, the train can work ... in the coldest of weather, to work in the snow and the ice ...and in the lonely times. When others say it may not be the wisest time to go, the Engine gives the train the power and strength to go where it needs to go .. to keep the train on the track ... and to get to the destination, safely. Sometimes a lonely, quiet steady job, but it will get done.

Then there are the times when it feels like we're never going to be seen or noticed again, the train engine, will for sure, get ALL the glory. The maginficent engine ...and all it's hard work ... everything it's done to save us ... and all it's done to put help us ...to save us and to guide us ..to protect us and to lead us ... and we just want to be shown off ...just a little bit?

Would it really be such a shame for the train to want to be separate from the Engines every now and then? Is it really that important/ Do we REALLY have travel wITH the engine every single time? Why ... why can't we, as the train make it on our own ...just once ... we could give the credit to the things the train engine had taught us ...

So I think ... tonight ... we are going to try .... to do things ourselves.


The train itself will move the heart and goals and dreams of the spirit along. Making sure that the callings of God and the work He's called us to get done. The train, without the Glory Seeking Engines ... will now be responsible for getting the body and the body's family to all appropriate functions. Physically and emotionally.
This should be an exciting time in the New Eagler Transportation system!





What? ... What? ... you mean there is a problem? What? You've had all of a couple of minutes and you can't even get going? What do you mean you can't go? It's simple ... the back car has Nanna on it, she needs extra care and be transported to and from work. Get going!

What?
What? push it?
What? we can't? are you serious?
not even a little?

Well, get nanna to sit and take a day off.

Sigh ... prayer car ... what do you mean the prayer car is falling a part. Yes, I agreed to pray for a certain number of people, Beths, house, and Melissa at college, Wanda, and Mom. The funeral today ..what's the problem? What do you mean?

WHY do I need a train engine to pray? oh that just doesn't make sense! I'm going to have to come back to that one!

I'm so frustrated, how hard can this be ... lets try to get the directions straight ... shouold we go this way or that way...the map isn't even clear! There are so many decisions, Why is it when I'm reading this in the navigators car, it all makes soooo much sense????????

I'm going for a walk ......



The full train ... the engine .. it gives the train it's power ... the power comes from the Holy spirit ... it is the guidance needed, the navigation ... the wisdom ...
The engines ... give extra power .... for the prayers to be powerful and spirit led!


The train .. .is all me, but cannot function without the fullness of the holy spirit ( the train engine) He is the one who enfuses my train with the power to be what it was called to be ... and is destined to be.

We saw a train sitting ... 3 miles from it's train engine ...and the engine just drove off ... leaving it's train sitting there and I thought ... no Lord ...please, don't ever leave me .... take me along with you. Infuse my train with your power. I am useless without you and I simply want to be your servent to do your desire.

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Paradigm Shift

When I took intro to psych I first heard the term Paradigm shift. I could not quite grasp it ...and I could not get my brain around it ...no matter what I did ... I could not understand what the concept meant.

So, Sunday, a speaker comes and is explaining the ressurrection of Jesus Christ and how it changes the face of religeon for all of mankind forever and my brain went ... CLICK! PARADIGM SHIFT!!!!!!!!

So, while the speaker didn't use the term ... I finally got the concept. In doing so ... it was a puzzle piece to my life that I needed ... desperately.

I have mentioned a few times since moving into my new house and having my book published that I've had a bit of trouble enjoying the fruits of the wonderful blessings in my life. The change and adjustment has been so severe I just can't seem to get my brain wrapped around what has happened or why and how and why I ended up here ... and welll ... quite frankly, it felt like I was a complete fraud taking advantage of a system or program or something. I had no business getting the blessings I've been given.

The better it got, the more guilty I began to feel. Then, it all came together ...all at once ...and the puzzle piece ... in one fell swoop fit together and my life was changed .... I went through a HUGE Paradigm Shift.
Nothing would be the same ...not the way we look at things, not the way others look at us ... not the way we do things ... everything involving our lives required us to change the way we lived life on this planet.

And I froze in fear. I could not function. I had this wonderful beautiful house. I had this terrific marriage and wonderful boys ... I have a book that's published and they're paying mme for it. I have friends, who really love me. I have a safe house that is beautiful and I can have friends over. I have a church that I'm active in, and I have leadership responsibilities as well as privileges in ... my health, while not good, has been far worse.

Just what in my life would be changed? What could you change? What if I were given the chance would I change? Really ... my health, ya,that's a given ...but in the grand scheme of things, that's a small thing I can function ya know?

So ... I've got this great life ...so why am I frozen?

Then I learned about Paradigm Shifts ...and I learn that they ALWAYS move ...from one state to another ...and the second state is ALWAYS a more positive, more stable state ...but that the GETTING to the state requires a lot of churning, and sometimes violent turning of ideas, ground and moving around of things standards up turned ideas upended ... the paradigm shift might happen violently and suddenly but there is years of hard work and preperation that goes into the paradigm shift!!!! no paradigm shift happens out of the blue and they all happen because of someone's hard work and perserverence.

So ... I'm sitting on the other side of a paradigm shift ... just having my life as I knew it, up ended ... the life I knew ... one of poverty, dilapitated trailer, bad marriage and unknown name and no career of any sorts to suddenly ... litterally ... over night ... to a good marriage (great? marriage?) a solid house, light on the path of the tunnel to get out of poverty and a career!

Success ... failure to success ... overnight ... literaly!

Granted .. it didn't happen quietly, or without pain or lots of pain and churning to get there ... there was tons of preperations to get us to this point ... but it happened. But when it happened, it awas not a gradual process like one might expect, it was a Paradigm Shift.

My reaction was to become stunned and frozen.

I didn't quite realize it ... but I had reacted with guilt. I'd felt like ... I'm the girl who fails. I'm the girl who doesn't complete things. I'm the girl who doesn't finish. I'm the girl who is irresponsible. I'm the girl who doesn' do what I need to do to accomplish what needs to get done. I don't deserve to have good things.

There fore ... this good marriage
this house
this book being published
this great family
this set of friends
these responsibilities at church

They all belong to someone who has earned them ... not to me! I've stolen them from someone else ...they are not mine ... I've stolen someone else's birthright! I felt guilty and horribly horribly desperately guilty for what I had. Enjoying what was in front of me wasn't happening ... All I felt was guilty.

This week ... I've been challenged to name what went into the forming of the paradigm shift .... and to name the last time I failed, the last time I quit, the last time I didn't complete something or was being irresponsible ...
I don't know ... I can't find those ... they are not parts of my current character!

Who I am now ... is determined ..and I have perserverence ..and I have patience and I have self control and I have the wherewithall to do what God has called me to do ...and you know what ... I didn't steal these things!

They were not handed to me on a silver platter (as I had been feeling they had) I worked hard for them, and God really was working with me ...and is simply rewarding me and now he wants me to be a good steward of the things he's given me.

wow. that's a whole nother subject isn't it?

inner child

How Old is Your Inner Child?

My inner child is six years old!

Look what I can do! I can walk, I can run, I can read! I like to do stuff, and there's a whole big world out there to do it in. Just so long as I can take my blankie and my Mommy and my three best friends with me, of course.
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Stones will cry out ...

Luke 19:40

But He answered and said to them, "I tell you that if these should keep silent, the stones would immediately cry out."



I was raised by a mother who loved to sing praises to God. From the time I was barely able to talk, I knew what praising God meant. I don't know when I learned to love praising God ..but I knew very young ...that He loved me ..and I loved Him ...and I could never sing His praises enough.

My parents helped to start a church when I was young. Mariposa Christian Fellowship. We called a pastor from Alaska down to pastor it. Leonard and Elaine Wilkerson. They were a wonderful couple and my mom was very close to both of them. We all were. Sometimes I would sit next to Elaine during the services ... but I always sat where I could see her.

After church, I'd go up and give her a hug. She'd always smile and hug me and say "as long as you're around, the rocks will never get their chance!"

Several years ago, Elaine died of breast cancer. The last conversation I'd had with her, she'd told me "never give those rocks their turn!"

My mom would always giggle/laugh. You could see her motherly pride.

So, it's 2007 ...and I've been asked to, yet again, sing with the praise team for an Easter special. Once again, my voice is terrorizing me. Confidence fading and fear rising I had decided to back out. Today ... I had decided I just could not it. During the final rehersal, my chest was hurting so badly I could barely stand. So, while we sat down to say the final prayer, I started to ask God to give me the words to tell my director that I was going to back out.

Our director started to talk about the priviledge that it was to do this, and how happy she was we could. She mentioned how awful it would be if God had not given us music! How terrible that would be. Then she switched gears mid sentence and mentioned some rocks on her piano at home ...that were there to remind her ...that if we don't praise Him, the rocks will cry out.

I felt a finger tap me on the shoulder and I looked around. I didn't see anyone who would have touched me. My director had tears in her eyes ... and I suddenly knew ... I had almost let the stones cry out.

I felt like God had wanted me to do this because my mom had so enjoyed watching me sing when I was a teenager. I don't know how many more Easter's I have with my mom fully here ..how many more Easter's will she be aware of what is going on around, will she know that it is me singing in the group? How many more will she know that it is her daughter up there? So, I'd agreed, just for my mom ...and I almost backed out ...

I almost let the stones cry out ...

Aware of April

One of the most staggering statistics regarding sexual abuse is the numbers that go unreported.

Many say they read those numbers with a cautious eye ..jaded eye ..or simply don't believe them.

They don't understand how they can come up with numbers of 'unreported' incidences ...

I did some looking into that ...and I think, I got it figured out.

I ... am one of those who have gone unreported.

My 'incidences' have never been reported to the police. No sherrifs department, court house or district attorney's office has ever even heard of me. I'm not listed in any crime victims data base ... I've never been seen in the hospital and had a 'rape kit' done on me ...

But .. I did ...after 30 years ... tell my psychiatrist. I am one of those who have told ..but did not report. I have become one of those numbers of "every year ... people are injured and it goes unreported."

The word reported ... if I'm understanding correctly .. is a legal term, rather than a revealing term.

I have never pressed charges ... I've never reported it.


So ... the next time you see one of those statistics ... take your skeptisism out of the way and make room for the truth ...they were never reported to the police or to the legal authorities who could do something. But it was told, to someone ... a doctor, a psychaitrist, a therapist ...who had to keep their name and identity confidential ... but could let a fact gathering group know ... unforunately, I've got yeat another one who won't tell.

So, I'm going to borrow a blog doctor for instance because she is someone tangible to most of us ... IF I'm understanding this correctly ...

If Dr. Deb had 10 patients this month who were assaulted. 2 told the police ...and only 2 told her ... and the rest kept it a secret .... for 10 years ....

her statistics would be

2 reported
2 non reported
6 fine as far as we know ... 10 years later they tell her, but don't report to the police
now ..they are
6 non reported.

All are hurt ... all injured ... and all wounded. Some start their journeys of healing right away, but some choose to try to hide it and try to self destruct and ause avoidance techniques to deal with it before they finally try to put themselves together the right way.

None of them that did not turn in an official report to the police are considered a reported crime. Even if they did, in fact report the crime to their doctor, if nothing legal was done, it is considered, a non reported crime.

Is that ... clear as mud?

For those in the medical feild ... please feel free to correct me ...and hijack my comments to help clear up the muddy waters.

Keep the candles lit .... one candle at a time ... we can take back our lives.

April

More information will follow this month.

Just in what form ... yet to come ... I'm not sure. But for now, today, April first, I will start with that banner.

Hat tip to Fat Doctor

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