Rev. Franklin Graham did not mince words when he appeared on “The Eric Metaxas Radio Show” recently.
He was there to discuss his charity, Samaritans Purse, and also the Chick-fil-A mess, after the company caved to the LGBTQ mob, in my view, by deciding not to donate to certain organizations any longer.
Might an affliction be a good thing? Well, yours maybe!
Eons ago the birth of my firstborn son was the equivalent of heavenly bliss. Even though going through the fiery furnace to have him had caused me to scream,” stop, I don’t want to do this anymore! Take it back!” I told my husband I hated him for doing this to me while he complained of the hard arm chair he had to sit on, poor guy was uncomfortable. I screamed and yelled and struck out at anyone who came near me, I slapped my nurse. Well actually I slapped her back. Apparently, she had become rattled at the commotion I was making and decided slapping me would correct my hysteria. I was not hysterical, I was 19! I was giving birth naturally to a breach baby who liked his home and did not want to leave its comforts. This was also the 48th hour of my body demanding it wanted to be rid of this little urchin.
Not your usual beautiful, engaging setting of pure joy, love and anticipation I had always envisioned. But that’s sort of the way things work for me a great deal of the time.
I should have been enraged at the doctor who saw me through this pregnancy and now this labor from hell, not my husband or the nurse. The doctor who did not inform me my baby was breach! The others were collateral damage in this labor of not so much fun and love. I kept thinking the doctor had medications, gas, and could end this horror if he just would. So I tried to keep the peace with him. I begged, and he would leave the room and tell me almost, you’re almost there. Where is there? I didn’t know how I got there and felt here should have been enough! But nooooooo, there, was still out there somewhere. There, where I needed to go was called 10, and I was stuck here at 9. Close enough in my mind, but nooooo. Not for Dr. Sortor and nurse witch with a b.
This is but One example of affliction for a beautiful thing. It was such a beautiful thing that I did it three more times. Three boys and one girl. All were breach but one. Lucky me. No, really, I was blessed since we were told that my husband might not have been able to have children. A Doctor at the VA Hospital in northern Alaska told him that.
Then in example two, this lasted 16 years for me and included that same firstborn son. Let’s call him Craig, cause that’s his name. When he was about two and an adorable little chubbiekin toddler, who took after his father in stubbornness and love of staying put, the affliction began. One of those kind that your child has but you would rather have it, to spare him. He began having seizures. Randomly. Scary as hell. After the first three which included ambulance rides to the closest hospital, where we were told repeatedly it must be from a virus. Neither the staff in the ER nor upon admission his regular pediatrician could come to any agreement on what was causing these huge spiked fevers out of no where. That set off a cascade of ugly things including grand mal seizures. On the fifth visit I refused to take him home with that so-called virus. I didn’t buy that excuse any longer, no one could give me an example of any other toddlers who went through this. Besides, I was scared, actually terrified. Terrified to leave him alone, no sitters or caretakers, terrified every hour of every day that it would happen again, and the last one the hospital staff said was a doozie. He should not have another one like that or permanent damage could occur. Or worse. What would you have done if it was your child? Well, I refused to take him home, and prayed and prayed. People were praying for us all over town. The doctor on shift that day was not happy with me. A young Mom being obstinate and demanding answers. Finally, when it was obvious we were really not leaving, a nurse brought in a form for me to sign waiving the hospital of any liability for putting my son through medical tests that were deemed unnecessary. I signed and the tests began. Within 3 hours I had a phone call to the nurse’s desk from the doctor. They found my sons problem.
Now part of me was tickled pink but the more he explained what they found the tickle faded away. It dissolved into black horror. Craig’s left kidney did not have a ureter. This as explained to me was a vital part of our anatomy. There was no way for the urine that the working kidney was making to escape. His left kidney, a balloon like organ they said was over inflated. And continuing to grow. It was now 3 times its normal size with infection. In my infinite need to find a solution to this problem I suggested they just put one in. A ureter, put one in, or a hose or tube or maybe ????? It was not possible, was the reply. (in 1964 medicine had not yet evolved into transplants, DNA, cells, organ exchanges or the like). The organ filled with infection could not be cut out, the risk of the infection getting into his blood stream was too dangerous. We saw specialists, I lost 40 pounds (18.14 kilogram), chasing between home, my parents home, to spend time with my little daughter and back to walking the hospital corridors. I hardly saw my new little daughter, and we were going broke. Praying now specifically. We were sent home with a long list of instructions, rattled psyches and a huge empty bottle to keep track of Craig’s urination proceeds to be stored in our refrigerator. Until early adolescence if he survived that long. And of course prescriptions more prescriptions and specialist appointments. We were to see that Craig had an IVP (intravenous pyleogram) every 6 months. We prayed.
To cut a long story short, (your welcome) Craig did not die, he still has that working kidney, and the urine it made from the day we first prayed specifically to Our compassionate Lord and Savior just disintegrated. That left kidney was still three times its normal size with the same infection since the day it was found. It hadn’t enlarged even more than it was expected to due to its adding more urine to it daily. Had that kidney not been working it could have been removed, but it was against all protocol to remove a working organ. Let alone a highly infectious one. He still had no left ureter to remove the daily urine. God’s answer to my why prayers, why don’t you just heal him? It was obvious to everyone familiar to this case that an outside force (God) was at work. Craig was a walking talking miracle. Doctors had been certain Craig’s growth would be stunted, he would be medically unsound and pick up every bug out there, and would have had to have that kidney removed by 6years of age at the latest. At the worst he would have developed a blood infection and die from the infection in that kidney. The AMA made a video at Milwaukee’s Childrens hospital of Craig at 13 years old. A case study at that years Medical convention. God’s answer to my prayer was the same to me as it had been to Paul when he had asked for his affliction to be removed. “My Grace IS sufficient for you”. So we were good with that. Until Craig was 16. By this age Craig was 6’5″ tall, and not ever sickly.(unless he was trying to get out of going to school). He pushed me at times to my limits in his physical stunts and athletic tendencies.
Craig was now asking to know why God hadn’t just healed him?. I explained that the last time I asked God about that again, The Lord replied it was so that #1 I would stay close to Him, stay on my knees and my love for my son would do that. I could be a prideful wanderer, so for my good I was afflicted. #2 reason was that when the time was right, and when Craig was ready He would heal him. Meanwhile, His Grace IS sufficient. When Craig was 17 he accepted the Lord as his savior. At his next IVP (yes he was still having the tests regularly) there was a perfectly normal size left kidney and a beautiful new gorgeous working left ureter. God had finished healing Him. In His time.
I learned how much God loved us by the affliction He allowed us to have. After all it was minuscule compared to the affliction His Son, Our Lord Jesus Christ endured for us. His affliction bought us A beautiful good thing. He paid for us Salvation’s price. He made us heirs to His Kingdom and Blessings. All we need do is ask.And believe.
Yes…….there is more. More afflictions, more miracles, more Blessings. Many in hindsight, which is always the best someone said. I don’t think I agree with that, but I get where it’s coming from. But to live in the miracle, in the here and now? Now that is best, or better or superior! IMHO. To follow in another post there is another. This ones with the number 2 son, (who by another miracle came into existence. Did you read the post about my Plantar Warts? That’s another one, it’s on my blog page. That story was the first encounter with affliction for good, you might say.
Let’s chat soon. If you enjoy these, or the stories of Art, Interior Design, Healthcare activism follow me and you will receive them as they come. Recently I have gone back to doing some painting and those will be found on the site also. At this time God has me quite afflicted and alone a great deal. He has told me it is part of the plan…so I am waiting. Not always as patiently as I should, pray for me it helps more than you know.
More than five hundred years ago, Martin Luther nailed his Ninety-Five Theses to the Castle Church door in Wittenberg. Little did he know how the Lord would use him to ignite a movement that would change the world. For a limited time, you can stream Luther: The Life and Legacy of the German Reformer for […]
I thank my God always concerning you, for the grace of God which was given you in Christ Jesus … even as the testimony concerning Christ was confirmed in you. (1:4, 6)
The first benefit of being a saint is the grace of salvation. Both which was given and was confirmed in the Greek are in the aorist tense, indicating action completed at a particular, definite point of time. At the moment a person trusts in Jesus Christ, he receives God’s grace and the testimony of Christ is confirmed in him. Once we are in Christ the grace of God is ours. Paul is grateful [I thank my God always concerning you] for those who have received the grace of salvation. His passion was to see people redeemed, and his joy was greatest when that happened. Keeping a proper perspective, his thanks is directed…
Abandonment means differing things to many people. If you have ever experienced it you will not forget it. In the dictionary it is a noun which is confusing, I would think it should be a verb? It is also unique as to it is one of those words that it is the same word used to define itself. Like:
Definitions for abandonment aban·don·mentHere are all the possible meanings and translations of the word abandonment.
abandonment, forsaking, desertion(noun) the act of giving something up desertion, abandonment, defection(noun)withdrawing support or help despite allegiance or responsibility
“his abandonment of his wife and children left them penniless”.
And there is more but you get the drift. Now I always thought that leaving something or someone behind for any reason, not for another person to find was what it meant. No,abandonment has nothing to do with the finding just the leaving. So to the one leaving it behind it had little to no value. Obviously. ( Even though, A finder might find it valuable.) People abandon all kinds of persons, places, and things. We can abandon things even without leaving it, or them., or knowing it. However, if the abandoned is a person they will know it. If it’s a vow or a promise, God will know it.
Child abandonment is disturbing, awful, and more common than we think.
I was abandoned as a child. It was revealed to me during early adolescence out of the blue. In a drunken violent way. I was 13. I had had no idea of the reasons why my existence in the family had caused me often to sense an uneasy indifference from my siblings, but I did, and their attitude at times singled me out as peculiar. Which was shrugged off by most when I asked about it, except by the father figure whose answer to my question,”why do you call me by a nick name but no one else? Why do you call me Lucky?” He would laugh and tease me and whisper, “because your Lucky we kept ya.” I was informed by my parents on that fateful afternoon in my 13th year that who I believed I was or who they were, thus who all of us were had been wrong. I had believed that these two people were honest and loyal parents to me. Now I realized that they were not. I was not who I thought I was and neither were they who I thought they were.
The rug yanked from under my feet was swift and caused a wobbliness in my walk through life that no amount of time can change. Loyalty shattered caused trust issues. Being misled by literally every one you knew and had believed in at the same time was mind numbing. Then there was the Abandonment by a parent who knew me and left? Well that caused a plethora of damage that no child should ever have to experience. Healing through years of timely reasoning and consideration, understanding and eventual forgiveness took a while. A long while. The help I should have been given to facilitate my acceptance and understanding of the mess was not given. Even though, it had been urged by my school administrators who had noticed an abrupt change in me. Concerned of what consequence and thoughts might manifest if those urging were ignored. I was sent to see a doctor of psychiatry. Which puzzled me because I was certain shrinks were for crazy people. I mean I was 13 for Pete’s sake, I knew I was not crazy. I was Angry, very angry, confused, broken,sure, but not crazy. The professional I did see twice due to the school administrators strongly suggesting to my mother, said that I needed to leave the place I had called home. For how long he didn’t know yet, and I agreed with him. As far as I could tell this man was a help, and made sense to me. I had been instructed by my Mother through my aunt I had gone to stay with to watch what I said to the doctor. I told him everything. Apparently they were the crazies, and he said I needed to get out of that environment. My mother would have none of it. Not only that, but she now moved up my going home, from when I felt better about things, too tomorrow. I refused and was taken home on the weekend. A long period of silence floated over the family for several weeks. No more doctor visits since my Mother was furious that doctor would not discuss what I had said to him with her.
In the meanwhile I went about life scarred, determined, and willful. An unhealthy combination. I developed new goals in order to adapt, move forward and persevere. A chip on my shoulder where men were concerned the size of a boulder.
Instead of going to college as I had planned at the urging of my high school teachers and administrators, I took additional classes to keep my mind busy, went to work to cover hours after school and managed to move my graduation up a year earlier. I went to art school, modeling school, worked at a bank all while finishing high school. I wanted to go away to an art school or to New York to intern for an Interior Design company. Mom said no. So I did what any 17 year old would do. I got pregnant and married. Due to my age, events had to be in that order. I was out of the house. Goal reached.
Did you know that part of the reason the military prefers to train 18 to 23 year old recruits for warfare? It is because their frontal lobes are not completely developed yet. By about 24/25 years of age it is completed. The frontal lobe is the part of the brain that understands the relationship of consequences for actions. The fact of there being consequences for just about every decision we make, well those also have consequences. This lobe involves the depth of all following consequences. Those are the incomplete lobes missing in 17/18 year olds. Including mine. (because of this fact it is ridiculous that our society has decided to make the young age of 18 adulthood. I digress, sorry.)
Three beautiful children later and about 8 years I was divorced.
I believed in God, really believed. My husband had been raised devout Catholic, I was devout to my religion, a Lutheran, a protestant. Our children we had decided before our marriage would be protestant. Even against the protestations of his family. My husband to be, being almost 5 years older than I was. (his frontal lobe becoming fully developed was still about 3 years out from our wedding date.) Still He could make a stand since he was over 21.
We were ok at our attempt of married life for the first couple of years. Just ok. By the 5th year we were not ok. Which in hindsight there were many reasons for this. The #1 reason I now see was the lack of God as the center of our marriage. I had faith in a religion, my husband had none. Even though our children started out in a Lutheran school, I taught Sunday school, the kids went to Sunday School for a while and hubby didn’t. He started to become just like the family and home I had to get out of. Disinterested in the kids and I but quite fond of his work buddies, friends and booze. More often than not I had no idea where he was or what he was doing, especially after work. I tried repeatedly to talk to him about this. Usually he would agree to stop the behavior, that appeared to me to be indifferent and untrustworthy, disloyal despite his assuring me he was loyal. I was deciding men were the enemy. Things would go along with us fine for about 15 minutes then spiral out of control again. By the 6th year I was talking of leaving and even had papers for separation/divorce filed. We were fighting just like at my home while growing up. The thing I hated and swore I would not put my kids through. He was disinterested and untrustworthy despite his promises to stop and pay us more attention. I agreed to try again, he moved back home. Things went ok for a while, maybe 30 minutes this time. He didn’t keep his promises. The 7th year my health was declining. I blamed it on the stress and over work. Three children, a job, a carousing drunken husband, and handling all the home responsibilities. He brought home what was left of his paycheck and cut the grass on occasion. We fought. In August of ’69 I was with the kids and some neighbors at a lake for a days outing when I suddenly collapsed in horrible pain. The park rangers called an ambulance for me. My neighbors promised to watch over the kids until we found out what was happening. The local hospital wanted to perform emergency surgery on what they believed was a ruptured bleeding ulcer. I tried to locate my husband. I couldn’t. I asked the hospital to call my mother, she contacted the rest of the family for help and hauled my father out of work. All were on a search and find mission for my errant husband. I would not allow surgery until he was found, so the kids would at least have a father, it was a Friday. About 8 that evening the hospital agreed to make arrangements at a hospital for me nearer my home and my parents picked me up. The second ambulance ride from hospital to hospital would not be covered by insurance and the co-pay I owed already for the first ride would surely be a doozey.
I was admitted to St. Lukes hospital in Milwaukee. Hubby was located by my dad walking the streets of bars my husband frequented on the lower south side of town. He called me at the hospital from home after Dad dropped him off. He was angry about leaving his car at the beer joint. I could hardly grasp what he was saying, between my pain, the meds I was having drip into me via IV’s, plus he was slurring his words. Something in my brain snapped. I went cold. No arguing, no anger just cold certainty wrapped me. I told him where his children were, I had managed to get them back home about ten pm thanks to a sister with her daughter to babysit. I informed my husband I would be getting a full-time job as soon as I was able and would be filing for a divorce. No more chances. He should take that knowledge to the bank, and no it was not necessary for him to come to the hospital. Not now not ever. I was firm, resolute and cold as ice. I kept my word.
By late October the papers were filed, I had a job, and he went to his mothers home. He had not bothered with finding himself an apartment because he was convinced he could change my mind, again. He couldn’t.
In Wisconsin divorces had to be with fault-finding and agreed to by a judge to be egregious enough to warrant a divorce. There was a one-year reconciliation period, and if none than the divorce would be granted at the end of that year. The judge had asked me my plans for taking care of my children and work. He thought my plan was exceptional, and spent almost an hour asking my husband what was he thinking? I just wanted out of the marriage, so I had not asked for any money, the judge thought otherwise, and I was granted a nominal sum for the three children. I had built an impenetrable wall over those last two years, around me. My husband had tried to breach it a few times with no success. He had my mother try to talk me out of the divorce. That was a huge mistake on his part. Revealing to me that he had never really understood that a marriage like hers was part of what I left home to be rid of. When she approached me about how hard divorce life would be she got an earful of what living a marriage like hers had been on my two younger sisters and I! The wall grew higher and thicker. Next my husband went to the pastor of the church we were married and baptized our children in. He said that what my husband had done to me was literally abandonment. Bells went off. I hated that word and feeling since I was 13! However, I could not bring myself to say that. To me in order to be abandoned he needed to be gone and not want to come back. My pastor thought he could make a case for it anyway by the fact that my husband was incapable of being a husband. I was more afraid of lieing to God than in being excommunicated. I had come to realize that I just needed to be away from the pain and convinced myself that God would be ok with my putting asunder what He brought together. Boy, was I wrong. I had a lot of learning the hard way to do.
A great deal of literature I read on divorce said not to make any major decisions for at least a year, and don’t get remarried for at least five years. I decided those were my new goal. One consequence I had not considered was how really really difficult being the only breadwinner for a family of four could be and parent at the same time. I also hadn’t considered how I would now be the disciplinarian and nurturer at the same time, how confusing that could be for my kids. Not having a church to go to bothered me as well, and what would happen if I got sick and couldn’t work or be home. How to work and be at the kids programs and activities at the same time. During the one-year reconciliation period a few of those consequences were speaking to me about possibly reconsidering a few things when My husband (about 6 months) into it had gotten a much younger girl pregnant. He needed a waiver from me of any chance of reconciliation, so he could marry her. I gave it to him.
This was a head knocking learning period, and to continue, with no end in sight. I depended on family, male friends, work friends and God to make it through. Any of my male friends who got serious I stopped seeing, I did not want to sacrifice my goal. I had several proposals, made some new friends and hurt more than a few people. Including me and worse my kids. My mother passed away suddenly from lung cancer in 1973. We had mended a few fences, despite she continued to drink, just not as often. She was my go to person in emergency situations. One of the men I had been seeing for quite a while who was about 15 years my senior, that I also worked for at times. I thought he understood my goals, yet he decided during the time of my mothers illness and passing to begin to pressure me on many points. I had begun to awaken to more and more of the reality of how life with him would impact both our families. It would have been devilishly delightful for me, but just hell for my children and his. So we split up. He decided if he couldn’t have me I couldn’t have his jobs. I was a designer for his chain of clubs./restaurants. My income dropped, I had been offered a job at the Lake Geneva Bunny club, as a Bunny but after driving there I decided the distance added to my work schedule time was not feasible. So I cried a lot. One day on the way home from Mom’s hospital I pulled over on a side road and bawled. The realization that now my support structure, that apparently I relied on more than I realized was deteriorating. Crying in my car on the side of roads was not new to me. I never wanted the kids to see me like that. This time was different and I literally cried out to God for help. I was afraid of tomorrow. I felt more abandoned, betrayed, out of control. Later that night in bed I cried some more and prayed, fervently.
God answered. He spoke to me. Then He gave me a vision. Now some people don’t want to believe that God still does these things, just as in Biblical times. But He does. Do you know what the test is? (because Satan is not above counterfeiting Gods Blessings) The truth these gifts are truly from God is if they come true! Satan is very limited in what he can do or not. God is not limited in anything. First He told me my greatest sin, error which had separated us was my lack of faith in Him. Which I needed clarification on, and He let me know that I broke my wedding vow to Him not just my husband and that was way worse. Had I true faith I would have asked Him to repair my marriage, and change the situation for the both of us. I did not make it through that temptation and trial. All I could see then was my anger, pride, and desires. However, despite my sin and lack of faith He showed me a vision after I had asked if this mess I created was all there was ever going to be? Was this it? How my life would be? God, my True Father, showed me a man, and I cried. I didn’t like men anymore. He said no you will marry this man. I will what? Yes you will marry this man, things would change. I tried to place the man in the vision as there was something familiar about him but I just could not. Then God showed me a little boy. A toddler on a trike with golden curls all over his head. God told me this will be your son. Then it was over. I was jolted and joyful both at the same time, right to my core. It was as vivid and real as if it played out in real life right in front of me. It still is. The next day I couldn’t wait to tell my Mom that she could die resting assured that God was with me, and the kids and I would be fine. She believed too. A few tears flowed down her cheeks, and she squeezed my hand when I told her God was in charge. Forgiving both of us. Mom had at a few points in her life experienced some wonderful majestic miraculous times with our most Holy Loving God too. As did my Grandmother. God had not abandoned me, I had left Him. He heard my call and answered, what an Amazing Grace He gives.
After that evening everything changed. My fear was gone I had new energy and joy was restored. I put the house we were living in up for sale after Mom passed. One of the men I had turned down his proposal came out and bought it. He had recently become engaged and asked if I would meet her. He apparently had told her about me and I really felt awkward but agreed to meet Dick’s intended. She was wonderful, they bought the house and I started packing. We would not move until I found a place more affordable. My Dad had moved into my guest room after Mom’s funeral and paid a few dollars a week towards the utilities until we could move. That I found out later was another of my bad decisions. He was even worse than I had thought years ago. Like most of us he had a good side and could be kind. But when he was bad he was very bad.
The Point of my unwrapping all this personal drama before the world is two fold. 1. Perseverance. God honors it, expects it and teaches us about it in several places in His word. 2Pet. 1: 1-7 which I paraphrase here, He has given us everything we need for a Godly life. We do not need more.
He called us by His Glory and goodness. He has given us his very precious and great promises. We should know and appreciate the perfectness of His gifts. The corruption in the world is caused by our own evil desires. In v. 5,” For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness: and to goodness, knowledge, and to knowledge self-control, and to self-control perseverance and to perseverance Godliness, and to godliness, mutual affection, and to mutual affection Love.” Do you know what perseverance in Hebrew means? It means PER (means,’ to go through’), SEVERE'( we know it’s meaning), ance (trials.)
2.A marriage is a sacred thing that God values immensely. We must not abandon it! Marriage is between two broken people, sinners. It can be trying, and trials are God’s tool for developing our faith, and our strength, courage and convictions, which builds our character! We must be willing to go through trouble, difficulties, out of our comfort zones. In faith to grow and be rewarded, like Job. Job was wealthy had a large family many animals a large house. He had by all exterior appearances had made it. God knew he was faithful and allowed Job the opportunity to show it. Now we might not think that the awful time Job went through is something to aspire to. In one day he lost all his wealth, his health and all of his children died! What a day! Trial of such magnitude, but he persevered on and God Blessed Job with even more in the last part of his life than he had in the earlier part. Job persevered because it was necessary for his character and maturity. God’s eye view, His perspective is not ours, not by a long shot. Our problems in this finite world seem so great, but in the light of eternity it is but a speck. Rom.5:3-4, Luke 8:15, …’but we also glory in our sufferings because we know that suffering produces perseverance and perseverance character and character produces hope.!”
So when a year and a half later I was dating someone. Actually, the older brother of one of my brother-in-laws. I asked him eventually if he had ever had a beard? (the man in my vision had a beard). I had not as of this date mentioned to him the vision I had. He actually said he had had a beard during hunting season a couple of years earlier, he took out a photo. It was him. The face of the man in my vision. The photo was taken right about the time of the vision. We had not seen each other for years. When he asked, I said yes. We were married in a Lutheran Church and at my request my second chance converted from Catholicism to Lutheran. In our first year, we had the most adorable little boy, A cherub looking toddler with golden curls. I had to pinch myself and praise God as I watched his little body pedal down the patio on his little trike. His golden curls encircling his face, just exactly as the Lord had shown me!
In 1977, I was born again, at a Jesuit retreat house in Oshkosh Wi. That my second marriage had its rocky roads is well known but I had promised God never to not trust Him in this marriage as I did not in the first one. We were married until August 2006, when the Lord took him home. Just short of 35 years. As our marriage entered its 3rd decade after several trials we had become more than husband and wife, we were also BFF’s! Upon my new birth things began to change in me and all around. He was not certain at all he liked the change. He told me I was not the woman he married, during an argument and I agreed. I showed him in the Bible where if he wanted to leave me because of it he could and I would not object. It was his decision to make. He decided to stay.
God really can and will change a loveless, uncaring marriage into His vision for both of you. He will turn hurt and sadness into Joy and Love to carry into many tomorrows. If you persevere. Do not abandon the gifts God has placed in your midst. But watch the transformation, yours. Rejoice in the Amazing Grace He gives.
When I was younger and I was diagnosed with this thing called fibromyalgia syndrome that no one knew a thing about let alone how to treat I thought well that is that then… I will just deal with this and that will be it. Oh, how silly I was. Illnesses get lonely. They like to […]
A self-report questionnaire developed by sleep researchers to determine sleep fulfillment
Chronic Diseases are famous for fatigue! Fatigue is not a strong enough word to describe the exhausted weakness that over takes the body. Keeping our eyes open let alone concentrating on anything is impossible. Even our most loved activities can not do it. When the chronically ill body says sleep. sleep it is..
Insufficient sleep is now one of the most significant lifestyle factors influencing whether you will develop Alzheimer’s disease. During sleep, a remarkable sewage system in the brain, called the lymphatic system, kicks into high gear. As you enter deep sleep, this sanitation system cleanses the brain of a sticky, toxic protein linked to Alzheimer’s, known as beta amyloid. Without sufficient sleep, you fail to get that power cleanse. With each passing night of insufficient sleep that Alzheimer’s disease risk escalates, like compounding interest on a loan.
Parenthetically, and unscientifically, I have always found it curious that Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan – two leaders who were very vocal, if not proud, about sleeping only four to five hours a night – both went on to develop the ruthless disease of Alzheimer’s. The current US president, Donald Trump – also a vociferous proclaimer of sleeping just a few hours each night – may want to take note.
Insurance companies know the damage sleep deprivation can cause, not only on our bodies but the economy.
And Then There Are the Doctors in Training!
All individuals on the healthcare team must take this problem seriously, since Medical Errors are the third leading cause of death in the country. All providers must know the patient safety threat is great when the team is likely functioning on very subpar levels due to sleep deprivation. Try sleeping in a hospital.? It is a cliche often said hospitals are not for sleeping…….Well maybe they should be!
Perhaps you have also noticed a desire to eat more when you’re tired? This is no coincidence. Too little sleep swells concentrations of a hormone that makes you feel hungry while suppressing a companion hormone that otherwise signals food satisfaction. Despite being full, you will still want to eat more. It’s a recipe linked to weight gain in sleep-deficient adults and children alike.
Worse, should you try to diet but don’t get enough sleep while doing so, it is futile, since up to 70% of the weight you lose will come from lean body mass, not fat. Turn these facts around and you realize that plentiful sleep is powerful tool for controlling your appetite, your weight and keeping your body trim. Sleep the pounds off no one said ever, but I am willing to try.
Sleep is perhaps the greatest treatment we have. How many times have we heard of comatose patients, zzzzzing off for months, even years, then wake up. New and improved.
Actually fatigue and not just the everyday midafternoon crash is common. A good strong cup of coffee or tea is where my mind wanders too during those times. However the fatigue that comes with chronic diseases is so very much more profound that descriptions can’t depict it accurately. No caffeine actually helps. Your body wants to crash, so lay down, if even for just 20 min and be sure your doctor hears about it. Many serious illnesses have extreme fatigue as an early symptom. A blood sample may reveal the cause. IE: Anemia? Encephalitis? Sjogrens, MS, Heart Disease and even some Cancers.
A chemical imbalance is easy to treat with supplements and can have you up and at ’em in no time. A chronic health condition is a different matter altogether. Have you heard of spoonies? We are a large group of people throughout the world that gauge our energy levels, fatigue actually by the number of spoons spent in a days time. We all start out with the same number. Every activity from waking, dressing, stressing, shopping, working, spends spoons. By late morning many times I am already out of spoons. Other Chronic disease sufferers may be able to get through dinner with their number of spoons. When our spoons are depleting a significant nap is in order to regain enough spoons to say hi to the family and go back to bed. Did you know sleeping burns up spoons? Imagine that. …
My body has developed tremors. Embarrassing shaking hands, legs, body. Not from drugs or medication induced, nor disease. A Central Nervous System glitch.
The shivering is not from the temperature, actually I am sweating, profusely. I realize the people around me think I might be lazy. Or worse being a drama queen! But, if they only knew the struggle it is to get up from a chair, to take a step, and know the misery that is coming, things will start to fade to gray within seconds, Blood pressure drops to 60/45(did this twice and scared me big time) and my body shakes. Nauseous and with chills. The pressure builds in my neck so it pounds and my head wants to explode. The pressure wants release out through my ears. Then the sweats come. All this in less than @ 3 minutes .Then it starts to pass as soon as I can sit. Sometimes I have to lie down.
Do you know what’s freaky, really weird? Once I stop exerting I feel normal! I never considered eating and standing up to be exercise but it is now! Yes and eating, well that sends this monster into overdrive. The mountains get much higher after eating.
So glad I am at home. I know I need a shower. Maybe later, maybe tomorrow. Just to do the menial little things I took for granted just a short while ago would mean the world to me.. The doctors tell me, ‘well it is likely progressive.’ This is more than that, this is a growing mutation with jaws! Progresses? If your not certain what this symptom is from how do we know what it will do? We don’t, we just surmise due to what we do know. I hate that word now, progressive?. If this thing, this nameless maybe this or that progressive thing continues on the path it’s been on I won’t be able to continue doing the little I do now.
Quality of life? Ha I lost mine. No one is sure what has crept in and stolen my life my energy my hope. Passing the buck seems to be a new art form among my doctors, they even went so far as to urge me to go to Mayo Clinic, they wrote them, and I was told they would call me with the appointment details. I got a letter over a couple of months later. Their reply knocked me back in the chair. “Sorry everything is being done that can be done”. Whaaaatt? Nothing much is being done! Talk, referrals that so far have not happened.
I have children and grandchildren. Plus 3 great grandchildren. They mostly have such sweet innocence in their eyes, in the empathy they try to show. My explanation feels useless and I’m hurting because I’m not the mom I used to be, not the Grand mom I wanted to be. I’m sorry. This is not the plan I had ever envisioned. It’s not even a hint of anything I want.
My family… being a burden to them is my constant guilt. I hate it. But I am so grateful for all they do. It’s impossible to comprehend what would happen to me without them. They are wonderful. Do you think God is teaching me humility. He is getting through, and He is a great teacher. Please, I ask may I be done with this now? But no, not yet. Or, maybe He wants me to learn how to suffer graciously? I am not doing so well in that department, but I know my pride is still trying to hang on. God hates pride. Pray for me please.
How I feel is all my daily conversations seem to entail, and I hate it. How do I escape this prison?. I feel alone. I am alone. Alone right now is not so bad, . Being out in public when this happens is humiliating. There’s that pride thing again. I am told I don’t look sick… some things you just can’t see. The invisible illness. There are so many.
I suppose that’s a good thing if you think about it. You look perfect on the outside, but on the inside, there is a disaster. I’m in a constant battle with my heart, every second, every hour, every minute of every day. The truth… there is no cure at this current time. Most diseases do not have cures. Certainly no cure for Sjogrens, or nOH or POTS. Or Microvascular disease, The medical profession specializes in treating not curing. There is medicine to help some people who can handle the 20 pages of side effects, but each person is different. So far my body doesn’t accept it well. Tomorrow is my hope, always tomorrow.
He is my Hope. A daily prayer to Him. I wonder why and how this fits in His plan. I do know though that this is in His plan.Maybe He might like me being a Zebra, or writing about it? A future… what now? How do I move forward being so stuck? Pushing through……. For my family, for a life for others! I used to be strong. I Must be strong. But I’m not, not anymore.
Remembering, you and I are not really alone on this journey. Today we have support and technology at our finger tips. It is hard to fathom how just a few short decades ago people did not have this to help them. How miserable and sorrowful they must have been.
Dysautonomia International offers support groups to help people impacted by autonomic system breakdowns. Where we can connect with others who “get it.” Visit http://www.dysautonomiainternational.org/support to find a support group. Sjogrens International, and Sjogrens Foundation is also a fantastic support site and full of wonderful `information. The Neurological Institute, The American Heart Association and a wonderful bunch of ladies, aka my Red Heart Sisters. There are really a great many Zebras in the world. Those of us shaped and looking like horses scattered in the herd of horses but are not. Definitely not horses. We require thinking out of the box medicine. We are zebras.
Thanks for sticking with me on here, all the way through. God Bless You greatly.
Cameron Morgan More than 42,000 people died of opioid overdoses in the United States in 2016—9,000 more than in 2015. That’s the largest yearly increase in recorded history. And given the unwavering incline in annual opioid-overdose deaths since 1999, even more people might have died in 2017. It is clear this crisis needs to be […]