June 17, 2017
Saturday
Dear Readers,
"..Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go"
~Joshua 1:9
It's a new day! Don't you just love how that sounds? Another blank slate upon which we are able to enjoy the adventures of life. I am off to the Open Range Church this morning to learn about the Cowboy Church Culture. How exciting!
Today, I am wrapping up my 4 part blog series on my road to recovery after my spinal surgery in January. Go grab your cup of coffee and join me...
My phone rang one cloudy morning towads the end of January. It was Dr N (my regular doctor). She asked if I felt well enough to come in to discuss tests that I had taken prior to my surgery. I was a little curious but, no problem, we scheduled an appointment for the next day.
Michael drove me over to the clinic and we waited for the doctor. When Dr N walked in, she had that same look on her face as Dr C had when he told me about the complication during my surgery. She showed me xrays and shared the information about her meeting with the radiologist at the hospital. "You have IFP ~ Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis." My first reaction? "Okay, how do we fix this?" Dr N, "You don't fix this, it is terminal."
My heart stopped for a moment as I began to digest what she was saying. My mind went back to a couple weeks before when I experienced complications from my spinal fusion surgery. Now, I was being told I was going to die from a dreaded disease that I knew nothing about?? Yep.
I asked Dr N to write down the exact diagnosis on a piece of paper which she did. I made an appointment to see her again in 3 months and made my way home. Being the intelligent curious woman that I am, the first thing I did was look up IPF on my computer. Alrighty, one more time I looked up to the Heavens and said, "Lord, what??"
(Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis is a disease in which tissue deep in the lungs becomes thick and stiff, or scarred, over time. As the lung tissue thickens, the lungs can't properly move oxygen into the bloodstream. As a result, the brain and other organs don't get the oxygen they need. Death is slow and painful.)
The more I read, the more frightened I became. This was not something I wanted to sign up for. I never was a smoker so why in the world?? At one point, I looked down to the depths of Hell and said, "Really?" Then, I looked up into the billowy clouds of Heaven and said, "Really?" The answer from both places? Really.
My children set about doing their own research on IPF. To make a long story short, my daughter had a colleague that rep'd one of the 2 drugs used to combat IPF. Although he was based in Chicago, he had connections in the Pulmonary Unit at Southwestern Medical Center in Dallas (one of the best pulmonary units in the world). Instead of waiting weeks and months to get an appointment, I was on my way to meet with a pulmonary specialist in a couple weeks.
During those 2 weeks of waiting, I began to accept my present reality. I had IPF and I was going to die a slow agonizing death. I looked at my will and made plans to donate my body to science. My emotions were all over the place. My body was trying to heal from the 2 surgeries, I was still unable to care for my own basic needs, and my heart just plain hurt. I wanted someone's arms about me to tell me I was worthy of love and living. The years of my life ran through my mind like grade B movies.
The day I was to head north to see Dr Garcia, I said a little prayer: "Lord, if this is my lot, then, give me strength to endure the trials before me." Suddenly, I had this peace that blanketed my entire being. I was ready.
One more time, I put on my mask of confidence and cloak of courage and walked into the Pulmonary Unit. I had asked my children to be at the appointment so they could ask questions and I wouldn't need to relay information. When Dr Garcia entered the room, I immediately felt at ease. She was serious but, at the same time, warm. I was given a battery of tests ~ the cool thing was that I didn't need to wait weeks for the results. Tests were read immediately and sent to Dr Garcia's laptop. I did NOT have IPF! What??
Dr Garcia showed us the scan of my lungs and explained what the "dots" and shadings meant. The bottom line was that I had received a wrong diagnosis. My children were angry ~ I was numb. I walked out of the building and one more time I looked up .... "Thank you for my new diagnosis and for putting the right people in my life at the right time!" I called my daughter and asked her to thank her colleague for his part in getting me in to this wonderful clinic. I was sooo grateful! Happy Dance took on a whole new meaning.
From that point forward, I needed to absorb not only the original diagnosis but the now present/accurate diagnosis. I needed to decide how I was going to handle the misdiagnosis with Dr N. I knew that I could handle it in anger or I could handle it in God's way. I chose the latter and I don't regret that. Doctors (even good ones) make mistakes and after talking with Dr N (in person not over the phone), I am sure she will handle a diagnosis of this kind differently in the future. That's what counts.
You see, Readers, sometimes God uses drastic measures to get our attention. It took 1 surgery with complications, another surgery to fix the complication, and a false diagnosis to propel me into what has been a real roller coaster ride to personal freedom (my next blog series).
It is now June and my recovery remains a work in progress. I can laugh when I (still) can't get down to tie my shoes and pulling on a pair of pants (still) remains a challenge. It is enough to keep the cottage clean and gardens in order. The rest gets done or not. I work differently knowing that unless I plan my day to include stopping points, I collapse in a state of misery. I have tingling on the right side of my body but NO NERVE PAIN. I am happy to say that the heavy duty pain meds are now a thing of the past and I feel alert and have a sense of well being. The fog that plagued my mind has lifted and, although, so much of the past months is becoming a blur, I have remembered enough to (hopefully) help others who follow behind me. That's a lot of "I's" but, "I" think you get my drift. Dr C said it would take a year to recover from the surgeries and trauma to my body ... hey, I think I'm ahead of schedule!
My prayer today is one of victory and perseverance for those going through what seems like trial after trial after trial. I pray for stamina when all seems lost and peace when all is lost. I pray a prayer of gratitude for the doctors, nurses, and facilities that go that extra mile to assure their patients get accurate diagnoses and proper treatment. I pray for an extra measure of grace to be given to those going through the traumas of life. We're all sinners saved by a loving God who calms the stormy seas and holds us when we feel so alone. Amen.
In Christ's Love, Miss Dottie
PS To truly live is to experience all that life has to offer ... the great, the good, the bad, and the real ugly stinky stuff. To be transparent is to say that if I can, you can. There is light at the end of darkness and rainbows after storms. I am a living example!
