Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Peace. Hope and health histories

Got a phone call from a young woman who graduated from Westwood in 2005.  She said she called me because she remembered the picture I had in my office of my daughter.  She described the picture as: "she looked so focused despite all that was going on around her....all she cared about was that butterfly on the end of her finger."  It's one of my favorite pictures of Aubrey as well.  Aubrey has always been a peacemaker and animals and people are drawn to her.  She has a gift, indeed.  Even now, 10 years later, this young woman remembers that picture at a time when she needs to feel peace more than any other time in her life.  I was blessed to have received the phone call, but despite the fact that she thought she was calling me for help, she gave me the great gift: a real sense of nearness to that amazing young woman, Aubrey, who is so clearly a conduit of God's love and grace.

Another reminder to remain in the present and praise Him in the smallest details of our lives.  I am glad I let a few kiddo's say the "f" word while in my office.  It apparently makes a difference when we let people start from wherever they are.  It was such a privilege to work with so many amazing young people for so many years.

It's a privilege to just continue to be in His peace: with lots of people who share that place with me now.  Think I'll use that energy and love of others to get back to work on my health history.


Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Just keep swimming

David and I are answering the 36 questions to find true love that Good Morning America talked about this morning:

We have decided they should have consulted with us if they wanted to find true love.  We've been married 9 months and have officially decided to extend our honeymoon for the remainder of our lives.  I can't think of one day in the past year that I didn't deeply value my relationship with David.  We never take for granted what we have and are completely sure we could live in the boat house and live happily ever after.  The dogs might not like it, though, so we'll stay in the house for now.

It generally takes me a couple of hours to rid myself of the evening's headache, but thankfully, I have about 4 -5 hours each day where I can move around fairly normally.  I'm off to my water aerobics class today.  I drive 40 minutes to the recreation center in Minden, where they have an indoor pool, twice a week.  I try and swim laps after the class if my head can tolerate the pressure.  The bromine in the pool aggravates my with any intense smells, so my time in the pool is limited.  It seems to make a difference in my mobility, so I am going to keep going for now.  And as for the "I" in the "drive to Minden" part....well...that's usually a "he."


Sunday, January 25, 2015

Present Tense and Future Perfect

There are 44 more days until my first appointment at the Mayo Clinic on March 11th: not that I'm counting.

Finding out that I was accepted as a patient on Christmas Eve, and then having the scheduler call the day after Christmas, was just about the best gift I could have ever received.  On super bowl Sunday, it will be 2 years I have had mono-ocular double vision and have been begging for help to save my vision since.  I have been genuinely terrified, and in my fair share of pain (from headaches) since then.  

Fear is an awful thing; it prevents authentic presence in the present tense.  Fear pushes thoughts into the future, while the perfect present zooms by.  I work every day to keep my thoughts in this moment and honor the many gifts God has wrapped me in: my wonderful husband, my children's good health and successful lives and relationships, all my fabulous friends, family and perfect sister, my two ridiculously attentive and distracting dogs, and a home in the most beautiful place in the world.  It is this quiet peace while in His presence when I recognize His protection and provision He promised and provided.  So why in the world would I let my thoughts slip into the future?

Because it seems as though thoughts of the future, like anticipation of something good (my trip to Mayo), seems like that would work out just fine and help me endure a tough day. The problem is that it is still not fully appreciating the moments filling this day.  And truthfully, I am fearful of the outcome from Mayo. What if they don't discover the correct diagnosis and an effective treatment?  What if they do discover the correct diagnosis and treatment, and I don't like it?  It may sound ridiculous, but I really just want to go there and get the diagnosis of a common treatable problem that is fully resolved with either an easy surgery or short-term treatment: sounds reasonable to me.  I'm praying for that and then I quickly turn my thoughts back to today, because no matter the outcome, I am perfectly happy.  I would prefer to feel better and function at a similar level as just two years ago when I trekked through the Grand Tetons, but I have already decided that no matter the outcome, I am good, I will live well, love well, serve Him well.  And that is that.

Tomorrow I will spend the day getting medical records from one more doctor and two hospitals.  And I will reflect on the gift God gave us with Mark Jenning's marriage to Emily and the birth of their daughter, Katie.  His birthday is tomorrow and although he has gone on to our Eternal Home, his beautiful spirit is alive and well in the eyes of our precious Katie.  She is a beautiful gift that gives joy every day she walks on this Earth.  Thank you Mark, and Happy Birthday.