Ever had the wind knocked outta your sails to the point of capsizing the boat? It has been such a couple of weeks. I have spent hours gathering my thoughts to put down in words.
I have seen the end and it ain’t pretty.
The past two weeks have been colored with grief at the loss of an acquaintance, a former co-worker, and my sister.
I had been cruising downhill the past few months with commitment and determination to live my life to the fullest. Then, around Valentine’s Day, it all changed.
My blessed days of feeling “normal” again were derailed by a virus smaller than the bacteria in my body. It began like any other cold, feeling a little stuffy, then a dry cough and fatigue.
So, I continued with plans to travel to South Dakota to see one granddaughter celebrate her 14th birthday. The other recently learned how to say “Grandma.” How could I not go?
Over that week, the weight of that tiny virus increased until driving home on Saturday seemed monumental. By the time I made hour four, my head was ready to explode. But, I made it.
The next three days became increasingly worse instead of better. I still had no fever, just coughing and breathing issues, until I finally went to see my doctor. She suggested the next step would be the emergency room.
On Thursday morning, I couldn’t take it anymore and took her advice. Never have I experienced anything like it.
People will tell you that God doesn’t give you more than you can handle. But, this time I had reached a low so low it was all I could do but lay there being needled and questioned and feeling hopeless.
The past two years have been trying. I work at keeping my sense of humor and accepting the gift of healing these past few months have provided. I do find the comparisons between sci-fi and my treatment adventures to be humorous. I always try to see beyond the moment and in to the possibilities each roadblock brings. Life is short, keep smiling.
Then along came this teeny tiny RSV virus and pneumonia. After many tests, for the first time in years, I was admitted to the hospital. The coughing was so extreme the muscles in my belly were sore.
JC told the nurse in the 24.5 years he had known me, he had never seen me like this.
Friday evening around supper time, I felt my right arm tingling, and my breath was shallow. I panicked not knowing if I was having a heart attack. The staff response was immediate. The doctor ordered a CT scan of the brain, and they wasted no time.
I asked to use the bathroom while the transport waited in the hall. It was then I broke down in despair, cried, and prayed that this would not be something insurmountable in my treatment.
A chipper young man with a wheelchair and a couple of blankets zipped me down the hall to the basement. He had initials on his name tag that escape me, but I remember his baby blue high-top tennis shoes, and how positive he was.
The whole ordeal took less than 30 minutes until the results were posted.
Thank the Lord, my brain was not bleeding. My heart was okay. I had experienced a panic attack for which I was rewarded with some Ativan resulting in a somewhat good night’s sleep for the first time in two weeks.
Since my chemo pill reduces my immunity, I had to cease taking it. Now, in the back of my mind, I feel a recurrence of my initial disease.
The two weeks my life has been on hold will require hours of catching up. I am hiding out and resting. The coughing has subsided. My sense of taste is slowly returning. My friend Diane provided some amazing chicken noodle soup for dinner last night. I couldn’t taste it, but it was healing.
I want to be healed. All those wonderful commitments and opportunities seem unattainable as I struggle to write this post. I missed last week’s post for the first time since I began this outward journey in 2023.
It’s difficult to be positive this week about my disease and all it brings —complicating my life and coloring every decision. Today, I feel my strength will never return. My only choice is to lean into my faith instead of turning away.
It’s not easy, as I have tasted the end and I don’t like the flavor.
In my experience, soon a day will dawn and I will feel myself again bringing with it renewed energy and passion. Praise God for small favors.
INDYchildrendotme 
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