Bruised Insight

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Our family attended Good Friday services for the first time this year, and I thought the entire service was absolutely beautiful.  I loved every minute of it, from the time the priests lay at the foot of the altar in prayer to the veneration of the Cross.  Unfortunately, I could not be 100% involved because “my friend” decided to make an appearance…stupid MS.

While standing for the very long gospel, I started to get dizzy.  I tried to ignore it for a little while, but it just grew in intensity.  My legs began to get weak, I got extremely hot, my vision got blurry, and I just knew I was going to pass out.  Fanning myself with a bulletin, I desperately looked around for The Husband.  He and The Younger Boy left our pew to go to the cry room so as not to disturb everyone around us.  The Younger Boy had a cough all last week, and although he wasn’t sick (according to our pediatrician) his cough sounded horrible.  We were about five minutes away from being knocked out by old ladies throwing cough drops at us when The Husband and The Younger Boy left.

So, now I’m worried that I’m going to pass out, and it’s just me and The Older Boy in the pew.  I’m not worried about my health; I’m not worried about hurting myself if I fall.  No, I’m worried about the embarrassment of passing out in church.  I’d be that lady.  As in, Did you see that lady who passed out in church?  No thank you.  I’m a big enough embarrassment to myself when I’m feeling fine; we don’t need to add anything new.

Pride will be the downfall of me.  No doubt.

I end up sitting halfway through the gospel, desperately hanging on to what little dignity I have left.  I know I look like a mess; I feel like a mess.  Please God, don’t let me pass out in church.  Please God, don’t let me throw up.  The sitting helps, and after a short while, I was feeling a little better.

By the time we go to venerate the Cross, I’m feeling a little more normal, so I decide to participate.  However, once we were back in the pew, I felt horrible again.  The room was spinning, my stomach was churning, and I felt extremely weak.  Thanks MS for the vertigo…you big jerk.

photo courtesy of WebMD

photo courtesy of WebMD

I’m starting to get discouraged, when I remember the Ninja-Priest-Friend talking to me about carrying my cross.  He’s constantly telling me that, and honestly, sometimes I just don’t want to hear it.  I understand that this is a trial I’ve been given.  I understand that it’s an opportunity to grow closer to Christ.  I understand these things on an intellectual level.  But, on an emotional level, it’s sometimes hard to deal with.  I look at the beautiful crucifix behind the altar, and I remember the homily from Holy Thursday Mass.  Fr. Mario (a different priest) had compared Jesus to the Passover lambs of the Old Testament.  He was completely unblemished, and even after His crucifixion, he had no broken bones.  I looked down at my arms, still bruised from IV treatments weeks ago, and I have an extreme moment of clarity. Continue reading →

Payback Works!

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Well, it’s the end of the day, and I can safely say that we have been spared of any April Fool’s pranks.  The Younger Boy has been talking about pranking us for months, and I was starting to wonder if he was really going to pull something.  However, thanks to The Husband, I think Philip learned that pranks are no fun.

Yesterday afternoon I hear the following:

“Philip, you’re going to have to go to bed early tonight.” –Jeremy

“Why?  We don’t have school.” –Philip Continue reading →

What The Husband Taught Me

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The Husband was reading through older posts the other day, when I heard him let out a huge sigh.

“What’s wrong?” –Me

“Nothing.  You have all of these nice posts about the kids.  What about me?”  –Jeremy

“Really?!?  I was trying to be considerate of your privacy.  I didn’t think you’d want to be written about.”

“Well, you have What The Older Boy Taught Me and What The Younger Boy Taught Me.  What about me?”  Almost instantly, he realized his blunder.  He realized what he was saying.  At this point, he was trying to back out, telling me he didn’t really want to be written about.  He was just teasing me, just giving me a “hard time.”

It was too late.  He asked for it.  He should’ve known better.  It was like an invitation to mock him; I couldn’t pass that up!!!  What kind of wife would I be?

So, here goes… Continue reading →

Leaning In

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“Regardless of your personal situation, regardless of your heartaches and pains, remember that it can always be worse.

We are all blessed.  We just don’t always see it.  But, if you quiet yourself, if you look around you, if you listen to the whisperings of your heart, you’ll hear it.  You’ll hear the sounds of God working in your life.  You’ll see Him around you.  You’ll see your own blessings.”

Little did I know that these words–my words–would be a challenge once written.

As I clicked “publish” on the above post one week ago today, my phone rang. And within one minute, my world changed.  Yet again.

My dad was calling with bad news…my grandmother died very unexpectedly.

So, here’s a quick recap of 2013 so far:

I’m not one for superstitions, but I’m starting to think that there may be some truth to the number 13 being unlucky.  At this point, if I’m still standing in June, I think we’re doing good, don’t you?

I had just written about finding blessings in a world full of heartache and pain, and now I felt as if I was being challenged to follow my own advice.  I sat in silence for a moment, letting this loss sink in.  Memories and thoughts of my grandmother flooded my mind and heart, bringing an immense sadness.  I waited for anger.  There was none.  I waited for self-pity–after all, how could this happen to me?  I just finished IV treatments!  There was no self-pity.  I waited for cynicism.  There was none.  I waited for feelings of “that’s not fair!”  That never came either.

All that came was sorrow and loss.

My own feelings puzzled me.  It seemed like I should be angry.  Why won’t God just give me a break this year?!?  Why is it one thing after another?  Why can’t I just have one really good day?!?  I had just finished IV treatment a few hours earlier; I had just taken out the IV.  Why couldn’t I have just enjoyed being MS symptom free for a little while?  These are thoughts I would’ve normally had.  But instead, I had a calm about a very chaotic situation…and that confused me.  I struggled to find the source of the calm.  Good Lord, I’ve actually flipped my lid.  I’m calm because I’ve actually lost my mind. 

And then it hit me.  I wasn’t losing my mind.  In actuality, it was the exact opposite.  I had an unbelievable moment of clarity.  It didn’t matter why my grandmother was gone.  It didn’t matter that this year has been horrendous.  It was completely irrelevant.  The fact of the matter is that bad things happen every day.

Maybe I’ve matured.  Maybe I’ve hardened.  Maybe I’ve gained wisdom.  Maybe I’ve just gotten used to crappy things happening.

Or maybe, just maybe, it’s something more.  Continue reading →

The Gift of Perspective

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Last week, I had to start a heavy dose of IV corticosteroid infusions to clear up this MS relapse junk.  You can read more about that here, along with the healing that God bestowed upon me just yesterday!

However, this entry isn’t about the treatment, or healing, or my unending gratitude.  No, this is more about the ugliness that comes before beauty.

For the most part, I have been pretty positive about my MS diagnosis.  I have not wavered on the fact that I truly believe this is all part of God’s plan for me.  But, that doesn’t change the fact that I’m human.  Very human.  And very flawed.

I have had moments of despair, loneliness, fear (especially when I thought I was possibly losing my vision), doubt of myself, and even anger.  Although I have struggled with moments of these negative feelings, I have been pretty good about keeping away the feelings of self-pity.  Whenever I’d start to feel sorry for myself, I’d try to remember that there are people who are so much worse off than I.  However, I seemed to forget this fact when I was getting my first IV treatment.

My mother-in-law (God bless her!) brought me to this appointment.  From the beginning, we seemed to have a rocky start.  The staff was really great, but my body was not cooperating.  Time after time, they tried to get the IV started in a vein.  And time after time, the vein collapsed.  After 1 hour, 5 tries, a warm compress, 3 nurses, a different arm, and a much smaller needle, we had success!

As the nurse started the medication process, she began to show me all paperwork, instructions, and supplies.  She spoke of the importance of clean hands and work space.  (Obviously we had never met.  I’m constantly being teased for being such a germophobe.  No one’s laughing at me now!)

She showed me the order to administer the injections–4 in all, and the importance of disinfecting the portal between each injection, for precisely 30 seconds.

My head began to spin as she spoke of the importance of clearing the air bubbles from the syringes before starting.

I paid careful attention to the things to watch out for: a burning sensation in my arm, a red streak going up the vein, a puffing of the skin around the injection site, pain in the arm, and more.

I listened intently as she told me not to get the site wet…how the hell was I going to shower?…not to put pressure on it, keep it covered, don’t pull on it, etc.

As she left the room to give me privacy for the main meds to work their magic, I began to feel a very real, very complete sense of overwhelm.

What if I can’t do this?

What if I mess something up?

I looked down at my arms, I had 4 very large purple marks already.  I look like a drug addict–a really bad one.  We should have shot up through my toes or something.  And, I bruise easily.  I’m, let’s just say, pigmentally challenged.  Have you seen this? Continue reading →