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Alterations

On Easter Sunday in 2002 I sat at the dining room table in front of my makeup mirror. This was the first time in months that I bothered to apply makeup and the lighting revealed changes in my skin. The texture was no longer smooth and the pores were huge. It looked acne prone but no acne was present. And if that wasn’t enough, I had a beard — a thin layer of light hair or “peach fuzz” outlining my face.

That’s a steroid for ya. It turns men into women and women into men.

I was the unfortunate recipient of prednisone side effects. I’d been using the drug for six months and that was enough to cause damage. As was the case when I discovered bald spots on the back of my head on Steve’s birthday, I tried to make myself look pretty. I felt altered. It took herculean effort to muster a good attitude. I forced a smile at chapel but inside I grieved. Of course, no one else knew the difference, but no one else had my face. I hoped these changes would be reversed if I quit taking prednisone. (I will go ahead and tell you now they never were. Physical changes from prednisone usually are permanent.)

In the meantime I continued my supplement regimen hoping that it would be strong enough to hold off the disease process. But soon my hopes would be dashed. One day in the bathroom I looked down at my legs. They were covered with red-purple blotches. It looked like my blood was trying to escape. Along with this horrifying discovery came irritated elbows and knuckles. Red streaks lined my fingers. An excruciating blend of weakness, pain, and burning attacked my upper arms.

These alarming new developments prompted me to contact Tricare to see if I could get a different rheumatologist closer to Clarksville. They accommodated my request and I managed to get an appointment scheduled for June.

By the time June rolled around my condition deteriorated. Every activity was a chore. I was so listless that even holding my Bible was hard. I didn’t want to listen to the radio. Didn’t want to read. Didn’t want to watch TV. I lay there staring at the ceiling praying to God in my mind, “Lord, I’m too weary to move my lips. Read my heart.”

It wasn’t long before someone recognized the severity of my health. Steve got word that we were being sent back to Fort Carson. It was sort of a compassionate reassignment without the official title. It really was more of a compassionate early PCS. Under normal conditions we would have remained at Fort Campbell for another 6-12 months. God orchestrated this move and had the Army send us back to where I had family and access to better specialists.

Because we only had a month before moving I canceled my appointment with the rheumatologist. What was the point of getting started with a new doctor when I was leaving? I was ready to move on, ready to get back home.

God came through with provisions for our move. It was obvious he had everything worked out ahead of time. Again I would see Him acting on my behalf. Yet, I sense a question circulating, “Why did He allow this to happen to you in the first place?” That question would be answered in months to come.

THE JOURNEY CONTINUES:

“Why?” It’s a question we find ourselves asking at times, especially when something horrible happens that seems to have no valid purpose or reason. I like to have answers. I like information. I try to figure things out. I need to know that somehow God will replace my ashes with beauty, my grief with joy (Isaiah 61:3).

What I’ve come to accept is that God will always be incomprehensible. God has a plan that involves the universe and I’m a microscopic part of that. God’s plan is something so massive and astounding that I wouldn’t understand it even if He tried to explain it to me. When I get outside myself and acknowledge the fact that life involves things much bigger than me, and recognize that God is God and that He has eternity in mind, my perspective becomes a little clearer.

All I can do is throw myself at His feet in surrender and trust that He will make all the suffering worthwhile. . . . He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end . . . (Eccles. 3:1-9).

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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

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Doctor! Doctor!

In July 2000 we packed our household goods, cleaned our apartment, moved into the Ray Barracks guest house, and eagerly anticipated our PCS to Fort Campbell, Kentucky. My “lupus” symptoms hadn’t changed. As far as I could tell, the condition remained isolated to my gum tissue, and I kept hoping it would go away.

By the end of August we were settled into our little rented house in Clarksville, Tennessee, and I began exercising. I felt fine and seemed relatively healthy except for the red rash that appeared across my nose and cheeks. I looked like Mrs. Tomato Head, especially after exercising. Needless to say, I was embarrassed to be seen at the fitness center.

In September the skin on my hands became extremely sensitive. It felt like third-degree sunburn each time I handled the window shade cords or attempted to tie my shoelaces. Any object with a ridged or slightly rough texture caused a burning sensation. When October brought three raised red bumps to my forehead, it was time to get this mysterious disease investigated more thoroughly. Unfortunately, my first few visits to primary care doctors and physicians’ assistants (PAs) resulted in frustration and serious doubt about the medical profession. The first doctor told me the skin changes would subside in a couple weeks and not to worry about them. One PA told me I had rosacea (reddening of the facial skin that usually occurs in older adults). My eyes got big, my anger rose up, my mouth wanted to yell, “You have got to be kidding me! This isn’t rosacea! You’re not serious, are you?” Instead, I simply asked, “Are you sure this isn’t something more like lupus? After all, that’s what other doctors have suggested.” Then she shot a wide-eyed gaze at me as if I had no business questioning her. Gimme a break. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

Eventually I landed in the office of a dermatologist who actually seemed to give a rip. Results of a skin biopsy led him also to “suspect” lupus. At this stage it only appeared to be discoid lupus – a less serious form that remains isolated to the skin. He did warn me, though, that it could become systemic, meaning full-blown Systemic Lupus Erythematosus (SLE). Hadn’t I heard that before from a certain periodontist in Hanau, Germany? Hmmm … I vaguely recall … Yes! Now two different doctors agreed with each other. In order to halt the progression of the disease, the dermatologist prescribed a drug called Plaquenil, an anti-malarial drug, interestingly enough. Did it help? I don’t remember, but I didn’t get malaria! Whew. Close call.

Following one of those uplifting dermatology appointments, I went to the restroom and examined my face in the mirror. Fear of the unknown swirled around within me as denial rose to the surface and evaporated. Reality was staring back at me. I inquired of the Lord, “Father, what’s happening to me? Is this rash going to scar me for life? Will it ever go away? Will I ever be the same? How long will this last?” The reflection in the mirror was of someone I never saw before and didn’t care to see repeatedly. I recalled the days when people complimented my skin. After this, could anyone bear to look at me?

God had the answers to my questions, and He chose to reveal them one step at a time, one symptom at a time, one day, one month, and one year at a time. The trial before me would be treacherous. It’s a good thing I didn’t know what was next.

TO BE CONTINUED …        

Women of PWOC, stay connected! In the coming weeks I will continue sharing my Journey of Transformation from being wounded and angry to healed and thriving. My purpose in sharing this story is to glorify God, to show the truth about Him, to display His goodness and provision in the midst of suffering, and to give you hope. No matter where you find yourself at this time in your life, be assured that God is trustworthy and faithful despite how you feel about Him. He does have good plans for you. “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future” (Jer. 29:11).

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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

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