Children learn what they live...

June 30, 2017
Friday

Dear Readers,

It's early morning and I should be outside working before the heat blankets N Central Texas. I have a routine ... one Friday I spray for bugs and the next, I spray for blooms! So, why am I not outside?

I was scrolling through Facebook in the wee hours of the morning and I read an obituary of a young woman who was bullied. All of a sudden, I had this string of thoughts moving through my brain at warp speed and the words, "WELL, WHY NOT BULLY ~ THIS IS THE WAY OF THE WORLD TODAY!" The Lord has this way of prompting me when He wants to use me as his voice...

I am sure that most of you have read the poem written by Dorothy Law Nolte, Ph.D., Children Learn What They Live. If not, here it is...

If children live with criticism, they learn to condemn.
If children live with hostility, they learn to fight.
If children live with fear, they learn to be apprehensive.
If children live with pity, they learn to feel sorry for themselves.
If children live with ridicule, they learn to feel shy.
If children live with jealousy, they learn to feel envy.
If children live with shame, they learn to feel guilty.
If children live with encouragement, they learn confidence.
If children live with tolerance, they learn patience.
If children live with praise, they learn appreciation.
If children live with approval, they learn to like themselves.
If children live with recognition, they learn it is good to have a goal.
If children live with sharing, they learn generosity.
If children live with honesty, they learn truthfulness.
If children live with fairness, they learn justice.
If children live with kindness and consideration, they learn respect.
If children live with security, they learn to have faith in themselves and in those about them.
If children live with friendliness, they learn the world is a nice place in which to live.

All this being said, what are our children learning in 2017? Who are their heroes, what do they watch on TV, and what do they see and hear at home? I'll tell you what.. They watch adult men and women be disrespectful to each other and others. They see a comedian hold up a bloody head resembling our President and laugh. They witness rioters burning and maiming because they didn't get a desired outcome. The law has become up for negotiation and the pulling together of a nation a travesty. They witness selfishness, grandiosity, moral depravity, and cultural dissension. They witness an intolerance for those who have differing beliefs and create havoc in areas where they don't have the whole picture. They live in a selfish, "if it feels good do it" society where "me" is God. Old people are thought of as burdens and the unborn are wanted, or not. God is whatever we choose to make him (or her). The list goes on.

Let me tell you a story. When I was quite small, I went to stay at my Aunt Laura's home for the weekend. She and my cousin, Bette, took my other cousin, Sandy, and I to see a double feature at the local theatre. We saw African Queen (released 1951) and another cowboy and Indian feature, Apache Drums (also released 1951). That night, I relived the cowboy and Indian fight scene and was terrified. I screamed and was inconsolable. I still remember the blood and gore to this day. Now, if that affected me that much, just look at what our children witness on TV, the movies, and on the streets on a daily basis. You think that hasn't been stamped on their minds?

In just a few days we will be celebrating Independence Day. We are blessed to live in one of the greatest nations ever to exist. For those who think other countries do "it" better or have "it" better, I think they should follow their hearts and go live there. I think they would find that "it" has limitations and other it's" wouldn't be to their liking. Our President was elected to do a job. Why not support him and give him a chance to fulfill his campaign promises? If he doesn't do a good job then elect someone else in 4 years. Too simple? Maybe, but isn't that what we should be teaching our children?

Children do learn what they live so adults, listen up. Be the example in your homes modeling respect for those in authority and others; fairness; kindness; listening to understand those you disagree with; and, most of all, give your children roots that run so deep that when they are bullied they are able withstand the storm. No one is perfect but we can start somewhere. We can speak well of others and find something to join hands about. Let the change in our country begin with us as individuals.

Father in Heaven, my heart is burdened for our children who are being bombarded by the unrest about them. Forgive us as adults for the poor examples we have been fostering their behavior of meanness to those who don't look, act, or believe as we think they should. As your children, Lord, I ask that you grant us an extra measure of wisdom. Help us to think before we speak, research before we take what is said on TV or from politicians as truth, and turn to You once again as a nation. Your ways are those of love, kindness, compassion, understanding, and respect. Amen

Leaving you in the arms of my Lord who comforts and enlightens in His ways.
Miss Dottie

PS  The solution to adult problems tomorrow depends on large measure upon how our children grow up today. Margaret Mead

4th Step Reveal

Tuesday
June 20, 2017

Dear Readers,

We had quite a little summer storm yesterday. My gardens loved that Heavenly nourishment and I didn't have to haul hoses around. Yay! Today, the sun is peeking out from under the clouds and I expect my flowers will be blooming like crazy.

What we see, hear, and experience is etched forever in our minds. What we choose to allow before us and in us makes the difference between leading a life for Christ or a life for the world. Satan is quite the deceiver playing on our emotions and leading us down paths that seem true, innocent and right when, in reality, the destination is death.

Most of my friends are believers. These people keep me prayed up, encouraged, and, when necessary, confront me in love. Since I am a work in progress, I need constant infusions of wisdom to help me grow and flourish. I choose my advisors carefully.

Last Fall, I decided to rejoin Alanon to work on some issues that had been bothering me for several years. My tendency was to beat myself up, take blame for literally everything, and end up feeling not good about myself. Steps 1, 2, and 3 were no brainers. I was anxious to complete a 4th Step (personal inventory) and the Lord brought a woman into my life with over 30 years of successfully working the program. (I knew this was a God thing because one week I prayed about this and the next week, she walked right up to me and gave me an invitation!) I set forth on my journey to list all my fumbles and faults and was prepared to spend the rest of my life making amends. My sponsor promptly reminded me that an inventory also included the good in my life. Uh...okay...

It was painful to write down all the stuff that I remembered from birth and I had to stop half-way just to rest my heart and mind. My sponsor (actively) listened and gently pointed out patterns. I completed the second part of my inventory then we talked again. Afterwards, we walked into the very back of my gardens, dug a hole, and burned the tear stained pages. We held hands lifting all that cesspool of misery up to the Lord, burying the ashes at the foot of a little cross I had placed on the ground. I felt as though a ten ton weight was lifted from my shoulders and I smiled from the inside out. I haven't stopped smiling!

4th Step Reveal: As a Christian, I took the words written in Luke 6 to heart...

"...bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you."

I understood that God's ways were indeed sound. Jesus did turn his other cheek in the sense that He was not vengeful nor did He pay evil for evil. That I could grasp. That was the easy part for me. The tough part was to understand that to speak up for myself was not selfish or bad. I was worthy of the same consideration given others.

It hurt like hell to realize how fractured my relationships were. It hurt like hell to stop the bleeding and insanity; and, it hurt like hell to recognize the severe dysfunction around me as well as my own frayed thinking.

I needed to be reminded that I was and am an imperfect human being fully worthy of grace and forgiveness. I needed to be reminded of all the good that I had poured out into my family and those walking on the road of life with me.  I needed to step out of my "unworthy" role and regain a sense of my identity in Christ. 

To shed the old has been more difficult than I ever imagined. I need a daily dose of the cocktail of reality, direction, and Godly wisdom, as well as relationships that edify and encourage.

Ask and ye shall receive (Matthew 7:7). I have such a kind Heavenly Daddy. He has placed some of the most loving people I could ever imagine to envelop me in kindness. Not too long ago, I had someone stand up for me and I was shocked. I don't think I've ever experienced that before. I was dumbstruck and didn't know how to respond. Truth be known, I felt sort of guilty. My flawed thinking readjusted itself to say, "thank you."

Today, I want to pray for those who take on burdens that weren't meant for them to carry ~ guilt, shame, misplaced embarrassment. I pray that they would rise up from the ashes and take their places in the Hall of the King. Lord, send your mightiest angels to usher them into the light of truth and dignity of purpose. Stifle the words of the evil one who would seek to destroy and maim the hearts who are fractured. I pray for strength and courage for the seekers who, like me, are daring to question roles that are assigned and perpetuated from year to year. I pray for the mending of the souls who have been damaged by the words and actions of others. I pray for unity of head and heart and a knowledge of God's plan for his chosen ... his people. I pray for paths to light up and for doors to open allowing those seeking truth to enter. I pray for FREEDOM from oppression and that your servants would find purpose in truth. Amen.

Always in Christ's Love, Miss Dottie

PS To love is to offer God's greatest blessing to others. To receive love is so savor the most delicious dessert life has to offer. Yum!

IPF ~ Moving on...

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!

Reality of Being Home Sets In...

June 16, 2017
Friday

Dear Readers,

It is early morning. Each day the sun rises and wakes me from a deep slumber. Since I have no curtains on the french doors to the cottage, my furry kids recognize the dawn as a time to potty, stretch their sleepy legs, and, most importantly, enjoy some yummy kibble (the stinkier the kibble, the more they love it!). They are always so exuberant, yipping and yapping their way outside, down the sidewalk, and into the casa. Sheer mayhem but I love it ... and them!

It has been with much prayer that I continue to share my journey of recovery 2017 with others. Michael has read my blogs and says, "Oh, but there was so much more." To him, I have said, "Probably, but this is what the Lord has revealed to be passed on."

The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged."

~Deuteronomy 31:8

My trip home from the hospital was very uneventful. I was strapped in some pretty heavy duty body armor and numb from pain meds and muscle relaxers. I was grateful for the physical therapy I had before surgery which gave me added upper body strength to pull myself up from a prone position and motivate my way around my bed. All good...

Before my surgery, I had prepared the cottage to be more like a hospital room, removing obstacles and placing my recliner closer to my bed. I had a table that held necessities like Kleenex and water. Miss Susie brought a baby monitor so that Michael could hear me if I called out. I was remembering past surgeries and thought I had all the bases covered. Uh-huh... 

The day after I got home, Home Health came to assess my physical well being. Since my spine and muscles needed to heal, my movement was limited to walking which I did a lot of (first with a walker, then a cane, then solo). It felt so good to walk without the nerve pain shooting down my groin and right leg. They called me "amazing (for what I'd been through)," I called myself, "a work in progress (for where I wanted to be)."

The Home Health nurse encouraged me to get up and get dressed every day. She explained that patients who stayed in their night clothes tended to think of themselves as sick whereas those that got dressed were ready to take on their days. Looking back, I would say that this was very true. 

Surgery was behind me. My biggest hurdles were before me and the reality of being at home began to set in. My range of motion was severely impaired which made it difficult to do anything that required bending forward. I had orders to do NO twisting of any kind and had a lifting limit of 5 pounds. For the first time in my life, I felt like an invalid and I hated that. 

You know what was the most difficult? The loss of dignity. The simplest tasks seemed so overwhelming. I was unable to dress and undress myself and putting on socks and shoes? Well, let's just say if Michael didn't put them on me, they didn't get put on. Going to the bathroom was a major difficulty and one I needed help with. It wasn't pretty...

My hair was dirty and unkempt, my nails a mess, and my body sweaty from not being able to shower. The good thing about pain meds? I could have cared less at that point. I laugh thinking about all the crazy things I said "under the influence!" At least I was a happy kind of goofy!

Cleaning, laundry, and fixing meals was out of the question. Michael continued to work his regular schedule and we had to think out of the box and ahead of time to make sure I was able to fend for myself. He came home to help me to the bathroom and fix food. I had my cell phone close by and my neighbor checked on me.

One day Michael came home to find me in a heap of tears. Finn had been outside digging and when he came in he promptly jumped up on my bed and there was mud all over him, me, and my bed. I had tried to clean his paws, clean myself up, and take the sheets off my bed. I just couldn't... I wondered if life would ever get back to normal. Yes, the reality of an extensive extended recovery was starting to set in.
                                    
To keep the pain at bay meant taking some heavy duty meds which made my vision blurry limiting reading and doing things with my hands. My mind was "off" due to the post-surgery effects of anesthesia. Sometimes I couldn't think of words to say and remembering when to take medication was a nightmare. I know I received phone calls but by the end of the day, they were lost in a fog. I tried my best to be upbeat and positive yet there were times when my heart cried with the tears of frustration and sadness. I felt lost in a sea of stinkin' thinking. Dare I say it? I needed that affirmation that I was worthy of being loved and cared about.

As days went on, I began to regain some sense of normalcy. I was able to wash my hair and sink baths gave way to stepping into a shower. I was making great strides.  That is until I was hit by another devastating blow which I will talk about in my next blog. That blow came out of nowhere and was one that really took the wind out of my sails. 

Until one experiences "something,"
 it is difficult to comprehend what the struggle is all about. Out of sight, out of mind. There are those struggling to put food on the table but as long as we don't look at them, they don't exist. There are those unable to make it to the bathroom or dress themselves or are having memory lapses ~ if we don't see them, they don't really exist. I learned that they do exist. I learned that compassion is a verb and that stepping up means making someone else's life a little easier even though it might not be convenient. Believe me, I learned a lot in my initial time in recovery ... things I will never forget. 

Today, I pray for caregivers ~ the ones who pick up the slack when those, like me, can't do for themselves. I thank God for those who go beyond their own comfort to minister to others in their time of need. I ask that extra measures of strength, compassion, and grace be given to those who are able to give so unselfishly. Those willing to show up, don an apron, move a mop, change a bed, fold clothes, and make meals. I thank you for the encouragers who are able to lend an ear and feed wisdom into tired bodies. I pray for those who have been in the ICU and are struggling to regain muscle tone and thoughts of reality. Father God, you and I both know that the road to wellness is a rough one mixed with frustrating set-backs and glorious strides forward. Amen.

I leave you today in Christ's love, Miss Dottie

PS To heal completely has meant a revival of mind, body, and spirit. It has meant taking it one day at a time and not giving up. It has meant relying on God and others to make it through each day. It has meant failing yet trying again the next day. It has meant giving grace to self. When no one was there, it ultimately meant relying on God for his protection and provision.

Psychotic Break, Part II

Thursday
June 15, 2017

Dear Readers,-

"Recovery begins from the darkest moment."

~John Major''

   

It's another day ... a blank slate upon which I am (hopefully) able to make a smidgen of difference in someone's life. I am but an instrument to carry God's encouragement to those who might be traveling on the same road.

Last night, I was reading in the book of Jude (last book before Revelation in the Bible). It's a book not talked about much but has so much meat in just a couple pages and ends with the most poignant prayer:

"Offer praise to God our Savior because of our Lord Jesus Christ! Only God can keep you from falling and make you pure and joyful in his glorious presence. Before time began and now and forevermore, God is worthy of glory, honor, power, and authority. Amen." ~Jude 24,25)

It is with that prayer, I continue my story.

When I left you last, I was in my hospital room recovering from the back surgery I had on January 10. My stint in the ICU was longer than I remember ~ thank goodness for trauma memory loss.

My recovery after that first surgery, was filled with pain and the numbness of "is this really happening?" Dr C had talked with my family about what transpired during my surgery but it wasn't until several days later that I was lucid enough to understand. When Dr C stood at the foot of my bed, his face took on a sadness I'd never seen before. He was honest and was forthcoming about what I was facing. He took full responsibility for what happened and was able to explain it to me in terms I understood. Strangely enough, I didn't feel a sense of panic because I knew that whatever happened, I was in the Lord's hands and no matter what, I was going to be okay. My words to him were, "How do we fix this? And, let's get on with it." 

So, what happened? During my surgery, a sac near the spinal cord was nipped. Dr C and his team repaired the nip but it didn't hold. If I got out of bed, I got excruciating headaches ... if I got back into bed, the headaches went away (these are known as spinal headaches).

There were nerves hanging out of the sac that had been nipped and those nerves couldn't be calmed by pain medicines. The pain was brutal and, at times, I begged my family to allow me to die. I used every method I knew to use "mind over matter" to withstand the sheer agony that wracked my body. Imagine putting your hand in a light socket and not being able to remove it.

Dr C sent in another surgeon to assess my situation and tests were scheduled to determine the severity of the damage. Dr C's team was put on standby for immediate action. 

By the grace of God, I was able to teach the nurses and techs how to move me on to a gurney then on to a table for a CAT Scan then stand for xrays. Again, only by the grace of God was the technician able to get a clear picture of the exact damage to the sac and nerves. Normal procedure was tossed out the window ~ what was important was the end result. There was something inside my human spirit of survival that kicked in giving me an extra measure of strength and the ability to not cave in under the pain.

Special technicians and doctors were called in to read my tests and I returned to my room. It wasn't but a few minutes and Dr C appeared and said, "It's go time." He was giving orders to nurses and my room became a hub of frenzied activity. I only had time to telephone Michael and I was on my way to the OR.

I was taken back to ICU after my surgery (this time the surgery was a huge success) and, once again, I experienced another psychotic break. This time my hallucinations weren't those of a demonic attack ... just sheer craziness and out of reality thinking. Before long, I begged to be taken back to my regular room with a window. They were kind of iffy about it but I can be pretty stubborn and convinced Michael to plead my case. My recovery was different in that now the pain medication was controlling the pain and I was able to be up and about fairly quickly. Believe me, I was doing the Happy Dance!

Since I was a small child, my way of dealing with trauma has been to shut it out and pretend it didn't happen. My pollyanna world saved me then and, it served me well during this trying time. The hospital and staff where I had my surgery was wonderful and I have nothing but good things to say about them. When I went into surgery, I knew the risks and, darn it, I drew a bad card. Yet, even then, God worked this glitch out not only for my good but for other surgeons who might experience this same complication.

I am grateful that my family was there to support me during my hospital stay. In those times that I had the horrific nerve pain, it was comforting to be able to cling to them and just bawl my eyes out. Even little Harmony came to visit me in the hospital. Boy! Was she ever the talk of the surgical floor. All good...

The big day came when Dr C said I could head home. The nurses tucked pillows all around me for my 2 hour ride and loaded me up on heavy duty pain meds. I slept and the ride south was uneventful. I remembered all the tips about rolling over in bed and getting out of bed from my last surgeries so I felt pretty prepared. I got home on a Friday after a 2 week hospital stay and Home Health came out on Saturday.

While I was in the hospital, my every need was met in every area. I was hooked up to so many machines that if I sneezed or turned over wrong, someone came running. I had family there as moral support; and, by howdy, I felt strong going out those doors. Little did I know that I would be facing some of my biggest challenges. More on that in my next blog.

My prayers today go out to those who face complications from surgery. It's a rare thing that those oops occur but when they do, it can be devastating not only for the patient but for the family as well. Father God, I thank you that we have such amazing hospitals and doctors in this country to care for us. I ask that you favor those men and women who give of themselves each and every day. I pray for new horizons to open up in spinal surgery making life good again for so many who deal with neck and back issues. I pray for an extra measure of strength and patience for caregivers. Their kindness and support is paramount for patients pre and post surgery. Amen!

Always in Christ's Love, Miss Dottie

PS  Out of the depths of pain, some of the most amazing strides have been made in medicine and in the establishment of groups to aide those afflicted. The Stephens Ministry Program is a great example as well as AA, Alanon, and others. To walk alongside is not to enable but to offer support and encouragement. If you know of someone who is going through recovery of any kind, I hope you will be there to offer that hands on kind of love.

A Psychotic Break, Part I

Tuesday
June 13, 2017

Dear Readers,

"For God hath not given us the spirit of fear;

but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. 

~2 Timothy 1:7

It's a great morning to be alive and kickin'! That first cup of coffee tastes WONDERFUL and the sound of the birds chirping makes me smile. I am on this kick of having chocolate covered glazed donuts for breakfast and enjoying every moment of my indulgence!

For months now, I've been putting off talking about my stay in the hospital this past January. Maybe because some of it was pretty scary & raw; but, maybe because I still don't understand it all.

On January 10, 2017, I entered the operating room to have 5 levels of my spine fused. I've had more back/neck surgeries than I care to count and all had gone smoothly ~ I had no reason to think this surgery would be any different. I was taking photos of my IV and the gorgeous socks that donned my feet. My spirits were soaring thinking of how I would be able to walk again without pain ... all good.

Once I was put to sleep, I was in the surgeon's hands. I do not remember the surgery itself, the oops that went wrong, or my time in the Recovery Room. My first recollection of being awake was when I was in ICU. I looked to my right and saw a man sitting there beside me. He had fangs, not teeth. There were several demonic looking figures to my left that were all staring intently at me like vultures over prey. They wore dark sweatshirts and had large bloody eyes. The room was dimly lit but I could see clearly enough to recognize the weapons in their hands.

In my mind, I was in a place where I was in danger. I argued with my captors sure that I would soon be among the dead. I was tied down with tubes everywhere and my neck hurt from the the port that kept my head from moving from side to side. My mind told me that they had taken me to a room in the basement of the hospital.

To show you how determined I was to survive, I remembered that I had my cell phone, and managed to call 911. Believe it or not, the police did show up. I begged them to not let those people hurt me. I couldn't believe that those policemen would leave me there and pleaded with them to call my family (which they did).

When my captors would leave my room, I began to think about more ways to escape. I knew that if I didn't at least try, I would not see another day. With all the strength I could muster, I pulled out the tubes and wires from my arms and neck and got out of bed. The tubes attached to my legs (to prevent blood clots) kept me from leaving my (perceived) cell. I heard voices, "My God, she's out of her bed and there's blood everywhere."

The man with the fangs reappeared and brought his demons with him. They gave me a shot and I relaxed into a fitful slumber unable to protect myself. I was living the horrors of confinement. More voices, "Sit with her and don't let her move." Every time I opened my eyes, the demons were sitting there staring at me. I was terrified and my only thoughts were of escaping.

My next recollection was that of a visit by my doctor. In my mind, I was taken to a big room outside a banquet hall for examination. Dr C asked me questions and I tried to tell him about the demons and the place they were keeping me in the basement. I needed him to protect me. His face registered a concern that I didn't understand at the moment. (More about this in Part II)

The nurse brought me a tray from the banquet hall and wanted me to eat. I knew that if I ate the food it would kill me and I refused to open my mouth. They brought me pills and waited until I took them. I put them in my mouth, moved them under my tongue, and pretended to swallow them. When, the nurse left the room, I spit the pills into a Kleenex and closed my fist around the cloth. I was fighting for my life.

At times, my mind saw psychedelic colors ... colors so bright that an artist could not paint the scene and do it justice.  I'd never seen such beauty. Those of you who know me, know how much I love interior design and the majesty of nature. In those episodes, I was a spectator of beauty. There's no way I can begin to describe the majesty the colors commanded. I found comfort in those visions and had a sense of sadness when they left.

Just as the mind altering events "began," they disappeared once I was moved to a regular room. Slowly, I began to recover a more sane mind. I celebrated my beautiful room, the window next to my bed, and praised the cleaning people for making it so perfect each day. The cook would make me her specialties and I savored every bite. What I didn't understand is why I was being watched so carefully and not allowed out of bed except to use the bathroom.

The reason I am writing about this? During that time of mental disorientation, I was convinced that I was at the mercy of those who would do away with me. I would have murdered them in order to survive. I had experienced a psychotic break with reality and was given an opportunity to know first hand what someone with a mental illness or those on drugs experiences in the mind. "It" was not real, but in my mind "it" was.

There is a medical term for what I experienced: ICU Psychosis. It's a disorder in which patients in ICU or a similar setting experience a cluster of serious psychiatric symptoms. It's a form of delirium, or acute brain failure. For those of you with family or friends in an ICU setting, please be aware this can happen...

I entered a world that I knew nothing about and couldn't understand until I experienced it. The mind is a fragile thing that can crack under duress or side effects of drugs. It was a frightening experience that I not only experienced once but twice. (More about that in tomorrow's blog).

Today, I am more compassionate towards those that have permanent mental impairment or are addicted to mind altering drugs. Once I left the ICU, my symptoms disappeared ... I was fortunate. My mother-in-law experienced Sundowner's which is similar. I couldn't understand how a perfectly lucid woman could have such bizarre thoughts when evening approached. I've wondered how someone's impaired thinking could lead them to commit suicide. Today, I can say, I understand.

My prayers today are for those who are ill and in an ICU setting that could lead to ICU Psychosis. Father be with them and their families as they walk through that dreaded valley of despair. I pray for those who use mind altering drugs to create the psychodelic visions that can be so hauntingly beautiful. May they find their way back to what is beautiful in the real. I pray that new strides would be made for the elderly who experience Sundowner's. I pray for new discoveries in the treatment of the mentally ill ... those tormented souls who cannot escape the demons around them. I pray for the families and friends of those affected by the mental illnesses of their loved ones ... for tolerance, for patience, for supernatural love and understanding. Amen

Always in Christ's love, Miss Dottie

PS "One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star." ~Friedrich Nietzsche

Wisdom, Grandkids, Life

June 12, 2017
Monday

Dear Readers,

It's been wayyyy too long since we last sat down and had a chat. My fault...my heart has been weeping in a way that has made me struggle to stay on a positive bent. That's just being honest. My purpose is to encourage and when I can't do that, I am quiet. I am sure y'all have gone through seasons like that. THAT BEING SAID, I opened my eyes this morning and said, "Self, you've been wallering around in this mud hole long enough and it's time to climb out." (Even mud holes can start to feel pretty comfortable!)

I fixed some coffee and decided to enjoy some donuts. I like the glazed ones with chocolate on top. Probably not exactly healthy but, hey, I am celebrating today. Yum! Life is delicious!!

"Impress them on your children.
Talk about them when you sit at home
and when you walk along the road,
when you lie down and when you get up."
~Deuteronomy 6:7 

What's the "them?" The Bible says we are to impress the knowledge of God upon the hearts of our children and grandchildren. Our stories of survival and how the Lord moved in our lives is paramount to their knowing that they, too, will flourish under the care of the Living God. We must prepare them to cope in this world where, so often, suicide seems the only way out. To know (when no one seems to understand) there is a God who cares is like giving them a life preserver.

I wish my grandchildren were able to spend time with me as I walk through my days. They would see me rise early, grab my cup of coffee, and meditate on God's wisdom. They would see me struggle to put my socks and shoes on knowing that I never give up. They would see me head out to my gardens to create, cultivate, and exercise. They would see that working smart often times yields more than working hard. To learn is to grow ... to be kind is to serve ... to give is to receive. They would join me on Sunday as I make my way down the country roads to a Cowboy Church where my spirit is filled with fellowship, laughter, tears, music, compassion, kindness, and words of wisdom. They would see me on my knees praying for them and cheering them on in life from afar. They would know that their grandmother is a fighter, a warrior, a woman willing to stand up for herself. They would see my spirit, my soul, and my love for people. They would know me as a seeker of truth, a soft-hearted woman, who has battled for a place of respect in this all too often cold world.

My dear ones, in this world, we will know many joys and heartaches, and experience challenges and trials. This is life. We are born then we prepare to leave this earth. Accepting that means what we do in between those times is pretty darn important. Make your time on earth count. Choose your battles wisely and be careful who you listen to. The friends you keep determine the trouble you meet. Be proud to be an American and resolve to defend our freedom. Examine history for history repeats itself over and over. Be encouraged by the peace keepers and those who speak truth. Do what you can, when you can, and leave the rest to God. It is in the arms of the Father that you will find your safe place, your harbor of refuge, your strength.

Enjoy each day ... celebrate yourself and your uniqueness ... do something for someone besides yourself and learn to serve. Let not bitterness and unforgiveness keep you prisoner. Memorize the Ten Commandments and do your best to walk in the light. Sit at the feet of learned men and women who follow the ways of the Son. Seek out those who would tell you truth not just what you want to hear. 

"Above all else, guard your heart,

for it determines the course of your life."

~Proverbs 4:23

As a grandmother to my biological grandchildren and others, I pray this morning for the generation who will be moving into positions of power and influence. I pray for a Godly generation who will be able to truly know the meaning of respect, diligence, and integrity. I pray that they would have a voice proclaiming the goodness and mercy of God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I pray for supernatural discernment as they go about their days. There are turbulent times ahead ~ the signs are already on the horizon. I pray for a revival of hearts soul'd out for Jesus. For parents and grandparents and great-grandparents, I pray for wisdom as to what we nurture and encourage in our charges. Amen!

Always in Christ's love,
Miss Dottie

PS "Be more concerned with your character than your reputation, because your character is what you really are, while your reputation is merely what others think you are." ~John Wooden