LifeHappensBanner

Another Emergency

Here we were, back in Colorado Springs in the summer of 2002. We temporarily settled into my parents’ townhome while we waited for our renters to move out of our house. Our Chaplain friend delivered the Honda Accord to us a couple weeks later when he arrived to attend the conference at the Air Force Academy.

Spouses are welcomed to attend the conferences, and I wanted to go so badly but couldn’t quite muster the strength. Most of my days were spent in bed or sitting in a chair. I felt less and less like being up and about. I camped out in the guest room most of the time, sleeping intermittently through each day. I remember hearing strange construction-like noises outside, but the window well blocked my view. It was rare for me to leave that room.

The white calcifications on my fingers could no longer be controlled and they developed into nickel–sized ulcers on my knuckles. The ones that erupted on my elbows were particularly excruciating. The burning pain was more than I could bear and I ended up at the Air Force Academy ER as I had months before. This time the ER staff was so puzzled and horrified by what they saw that they took x-rays of my hands to check for soft tissue abnormalities. Nothing showed.

Because the Air Force rheumatologist wasn’t available to assess me, and they didn’t have room to keep me around for hours, the ER staff redirected me to the ER at Fort Carson. I wondered if they thought I had some bizarre contagious disease that could spread to the whole community. They were far more alarmed than I was. I just needed painkillers again.

When I arrived at Fort Carson the ER staff administered morphine and this time I made sure they gave me an anti-nausea medication to go along with it. They probably gave me prednisone too but I don’t remember that. The anti-nausea medication made me feel weird. When I was being discharged from the ER I wasn’t sure if I should leave. Was this feeling going to subside or was it going to worsen?

Upon attempting to leave post my folks and I drove to a gate that was closed. Being 1 a.m. it was dark everywhere and Fort Carson didn’t have many streetlights. We ended up lost in one of the housing areas and I felt so weird I wanted to get home. Finally, we managed to find our way to the main gate which is always open.

We arrived home around 2 a.m. The anti-nausea medication created a strange sensation in my lungs. I was afraid that if I fell asleep I would stop breathing and die. So I stayed awake until the weird feeling subsided.

By September my health disaster was out of control. Clearly, there was more than lupus ravaging my body. The time had come to take my healthcare to the next level. I needed answers and I needed them fast. Fortunately, God had an awesome rheumatologist waiting in the wings.

THE JOURNEY CONTINUES . . . IN SEPTEMBER:

During July and August I will be spending concentrated time with the Lord for refreshment and renewal. I appreciate all of you who faithfully read LHJA each week, and I encourage you to join me in September when the journey continues. In the meantime, bask in the warmth of the Son.

____________________________

Life Happens – Jesus Answers is a weekly column addressing the challenges we face in life, coupled with the presence and grace of Jesus, our One True Source of hope and peace. The column’s author, Laura Firtko, can be reached by email here: LifeHappens@pwoc.org

LifeHappensBanner

God Comes Through

The day of departure had arrived. We left the hotel and drove to the Chaplain’s house where our Accord spent the night. God, knowing exactly what we would need long before our move, served up the perfect provision.

And so it goes . . .

A little background: Chaplains are endorsed by various churches or parachurch organizations that provide support and accountability in their roles as Chaplains within the military. Steve and a fellow Chaplain at Fort Campbell happened to share the same endorser. This endorser, located in South Carolina, was holding its annual conference in Colorado Springs at the Air Force Academy. Our Chaplain friend was planning to attend that conference.

Where were Steve and I headed for our compassionate PCS? Colorado Springs. And our house, which had been rented, was a mere 15-minute drive from the Academy. As it turns out, our Chaplain buddy was glad to drive our Honda Accord to Colorado Springs since he was going there anyway. We paid for his expenses and he flew back after the conference as he had originally planned. This couldn’t have worked out more perfectly for us. And, as an additional point of interest, since that conference in the summer of 2002, the endorser hasn’t held any out west.

I find all this very interesting. None of it was coincidental. It reminds me that I never have a valid reason to fret or worry. God has everything worked out in advance. He knows what I really need when I really need it and delivers it right on time.

Back to the story. My memories tend to be sketchy, but for some reason certain moments in time remain etched in my brain. I clearly remember sitting in the passenger seat of our Honda Pilot (we had traded in the Plymouth Voyager minivan for the Pilot), the door was open, and our Chaplain friend’s wife came over to the car and spoke words of encouragement to me. I was so weak, tired, and miserable that I barely responded. I nodded once, turned my head to face forward, and she closed the door. I hoped she didn’t see me as rude or indifferent but rather desperately ill.

I don’t remember the drive home other than it being long. It was the longest ride of my life. When we pulled into my parents’ driveway they were glad to see me but I just wanted to hit the sack.

The subsequent months would prove agonizing but informative. I finally would get the accurate and complete diagnosis I’d longed for.

THE JOURNEY CONTINUES:

In a quest to develop my faith I make an effort to notice the things God does for me that I can’t do for myself. I also pay attention to His creation more. Many of us allow ourselves to get so busy that we lose sight of the beauty around us and, in effect, we lose sight of God.

This summer I’m going to pay closer attention to the birds swirling around my deck. I’m going to listen to their songs and watch the clouds float by. I’m going to breathe the fresh air and let God speak to me through His creation. I’m going to embrace a new appreciation for the obvious, yet often dismissed, blessings in my world.

This summer take time to sit. Look. Listen. Enjoy the blessings that surround you and thank God.

____________________________

Life Happens – Jesus Answers is a weekly column addressing the challenges we face in life, coupled with the presence and grace of Jesus, our One True Source of hope and peace. The column’s author, Laura Firtko, can be reached by email here: LifeHappens@pwoc.org

LifeHappensBanner

Waiting for Relief

The ER doctor inquired while assessing the condition of my thumb,“Why is your thumb black and how long has it been that way?” My response eased his furrowed brow, “My mother thought that applying a poultice to the area would draw out any infection. We just applied it today.”

Now more amused than concerned, he stated, “At least the black color isn’t from necrotic tissue. I thought you might lose your thumb.” Then he proceeded to clean off the sticky black stuff and asked me to sit in the waiting area – without pain killers.

Dad and I took seats. We waited. We sat. We waited more. I don’t think the ER staff took me seriously. Eight hours went by and the tears rolled. During those hours I never saw anyone having a heart attack or bleeding profusely. Those cases are always taken first. If they aren’t present who goes next? Apparently people in extreme pain go last.

It was hard to tell why the other people were there. They sat calmly like they were waiting for haircuts. None of them appeared to be hurting. Was I dismissed because my excruciating pain came from an area the size of a large pin head? Did the size matter in their minds? Did they think I was a wimp with a low pain threshold? That’s how I felt.

Finally, around 8 p.m. I was taken to an area partitioned by a curtain and told to lie down on a bed covered with thick black plastic. It was creepy. It reminded of death. I waited more. Then a male nurse wearing light green scrubs came in. He took my vital signs and asked with an air of doubt, “All this pain is coming from that?” as he gawked at my extended thumb.

My response to that insensitive nurse was a simple “yes” but if I had to relive that moment I would say something like this: “Yeah. Go get me an ice pick. Hold out your thumb. I’ll be glad to demonstrate for you how much pain you can have from an area this small!” I didn’t need questions and doubts. I needed morphine!

Once I had been placed behind the curtain I expected quick relief. But they had to take blood. Then they had to wait for results. All this time I waited – again without pain killers. They always like to get results before medicating a patient. Why? I don’t know. Maybe to test liver and kidney function to see if the organs can process the drug safely.

The day was so long and tiring I don’t remember if I prayed. I was too miserable to do anything but clench my teeth and cry. This was the first of several visits to the ER and it wasn’t over.

THE JOURNEY CONTINUES:

Why is life filled with pain? Sin. We have Adam and Eve to thank for trips to the ER. Otherwise we’d be enjoying pain-free living. As we all know, life brings more than physical pain. It brings emotional, mental, and even spiritual pain. Hard experiences can cause us to close our hearts toward God, especially when they seem to be without any worthwhile purpose. That’s when we are forced to choose – do we withdraw from Him or trust Him?

____________________________

Life Happens – Jesus Answers is a ongoing weekly column addressing the challenges we face in life, coupled with the presence and grace of Jesus, our One True Source of hope and peace. The column’s author, Laura Firtko, can be reached by email here: LifeHappens@pwoc.org

© 2012 PWOC International Blog Suffusion theme by Sayontan Sinha