Tag Archives: Marriage

Infectious Bacteria Stalkers-My Summer Saga

Five

On Saturday my body yielded to illness and to the medication which opened my airways, in order to prevent any potential closing of my vocal cords.

I curled into a ball of misery in my bed.

Not only was I going to miss my next day art event, I recognized the upcoming trip to Whistler Mountain in a few days with hubby wasn’t going to happen either.  We cancelled.

On the Friday previous I’d gone for my Mammogram.  On Monday the clinic called and I was asked to come in again the next morning for more tests.  That information shoots up the blood pressure a tad and wild visions of the worst case scenario occupied my thoughts while I coughed, tried to control a fever and continued to drip from both my nose and eyes.

Monday morning arrived and I dragged myself off to the appointment for more x-ray exposure, being pulled and stretched and poked, then lying around waiting and sent home to wait some more for a doctors report.

So, what does hubby decide to do when he realizes a 4 day vacation is ruined because his co-vacationer is  sick.  He goes back to work.

No-one wants to know the variation of conversations between us that were produced by that one decision.  It made absolute sense to him and months later it still does not to me.

He did text me on occasion and even called a few times during his next several work-days to see how I was doing.  I never replied. I think he may have even popped in to see me.  He says he did.

Perhaps I was too delusional with medication and fever and too busy emptying tissues boxes to notice what went on around me.  I was consumed with the time waiting for more pain pills for the fire in my throat and the developing tear in my chest each time I coughed.  And, with each cough my cheek bones felt as though they may explode.

On Thursday morning I arrived in my doc’s office who thought I may have Pneumonia and off I went for x-rays. More x-rays.

As I sat in my little cubicle in my blue or yellow gown I had difficulty breathing while trying to have polite and quiet coughs. With whispers of a voice I explained my situation to the curious lab person who had asked why I was there.

Using the walls as support I managed to do as I was instructed, walk to the test room, stand, sit, raise my arm over my head to hang onto a rail support while a picture was taken, release my grip and with some measure of dignity allow my arm to drop back to my side without fainting and then get back to my little room.

No one touched me or offered to help.

The lab person came by my space and I peeked out.  She stayed long enough to inform me I didn’t have Pneumonia but Sinusitis and I could go home.

Hanging my head for acting so pathetic I managed to dress myself, fully aware that my door was a curtain and that I was barely able to control my groans with every movement.

Thankful for walls and railings both inside the building and out I made my way to my car, drove the million miles home and slunk into my bed.

A couple of hours later my doc called  to let me know I have a sinus infection and Bronchitis and I need more pills.

Hubby has clued in that something might be amiss – the kitty litter box hasn’t been emptied, there are pill containers laying in various places in the house and for days there haven’t been any signs of meal preparation.  Plus, I’m just not getting out of bed.

Care giving skills are learned as glasses of water appear bedside and food bits that are not eaten come and go from the room.  Hubby and Thomas the Cat seem baffled by my continuous  weeping and grunts every time I move and when I manage to open my eyes, there they are perched at the foot of the bed…watching me.

I wonder if they will hire someone to come in and take care of them.

There isn’t much to do in the midst of pain and fever except to pray and I remembered to do that.  I’d committed to pray every day for my son who was in Regina for six months training to become an RCMP.  I threw in a few desperate comments for myself too that an instant healing would be greatly appreciated.

I also wrote lengthy ramblings in my journal – with all the pills going into me it is the only way I remembered my summer saga. A week later and two doc visits down, I find out a follow-up Mammogram will need to be done in six months so I promptly sigh and file the information for another time.

Still no voice, but also no fever so I believed some good health may eventually return.  If only I didn’t have to hug myself so tight every time a cough tore itself through my body.

Another week passes with yet another doc trip and it’s been discovered that on my second trip to the emergency ward, that I’ve not even mentioned, my latest x-rays from there reveal a fractured rib.  On that particular visit the friendly emergency doc, referring to my lack of voice and nothing about my ribs, that I should consider the idea of Acid Reflux, sending me home with yet another prescription.

However, in my hand I also held a paper for magic pills that fogged my brain and dulled my pain.

Ah, I understood now, why all these special pills were being taken with such regularity – my simple Sinusitis, turned nearly full face Sinus Infection and Bronchitis, had been topped off with coughing myself into fracturing my own ribs.

By then I suspected the same on the other side too but didn’t even bother to ask for another set of x-rays.

And, the plugged ear which began the whole adventure weeks before was still the same.

Please return for the continuation and hopefully the last two or maybe three entries of ‘my summer saga’

 

 

 

 

 

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Filed under A Cat's Life, Art/Draw/Paint/Create, Faith Path, Life Lessons, Writer Writes

Infectious Bacteria Stalkers-My Summer Saga

Four

After one more IV bag full of medication pumped into me I was released from the hospital early Saturday morning.  Though my throat ripping dry cough had now changed overnight to a looser one it still hurt to swallow.

My plan was to put the event of my sleepover in the ICU behind me and get on with my day as I filled a prescription for medication which would assist my airways to remain open.

The dry cough continued to change to a wet deep hack as the hours passed and I tried to minimize it as I packed up supplies fully intending to attend an all-day outside art event the next day.

My nose alternately plugged and then began releasing copious amounts of fluid and the barking coughs came in shorter intervals but lasting longer.  It reminded me of being in labor, the longer it went on, the harder it became to concentrate on anything else.

It was predicted to rain so my brain adjusted slightly in its denial mode to throw an umbrella into the supply bag.  Really.  I fantasized how I would draw, paint and create memories with my favorite  painter friend that I had convinced to join me in the art venture.

With the raspy voice I had remaining my hubby was informed that I was confused by my symptoms.  Again.  I’d had much confusion over the previous several days since the introduction of the prescription nasal spray and its negative effect my throat.

As hubby is prone to do, he acknowledged my pondering and concern then carried on with his own activities.  I recall his presence, at the computer, in and out of the house, hovering nearby yet staying in the safe zone of the marriage, not telling me I should consider cancelling my next days activities.

Questions and conversations whirled around in my stuffed head; was all the medication pumped into my system throughout my night in the emergency ward and then ICU making this congestion happen?

Did I pick up some bacteria and was it now being released in my bloodstream?

Was I getting a horrendous cold?  And, what did the specialist mean – Vocal Cord Dysfunction?

Sheesh.  I’d had enough family dysfunction over my lifetime, more did not need to be created for me to deal with.  And, why was the weather changing?  I had plans.

With my art bag all packed for the next day, I continued to layer on more clothing while my temperature rose and the chills prickled and settled over my shoulders, neck, arms and down my back.

Pain pills brought relief for a couple of hours at a time.  Swallowing was a necessary evil.

I surrendered and went to bed. There I stayed, coughed, retched, took pills, wept and blew my way through several boxes of tissues for the next five days.

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End and Begin

Here it is again, the end of a year and the beginning of a new one. Last year I chose a word to live by rather than making a list of New Year’s resolutions which I may or may not have followed.  I came across ONEWORD THREE SIXTY FIVE and adopted the idea.

Last years Word of the Year was Surrender and here I’ve hit yet another learning curve in my older age of navigating being a writer, connecting with social media, and trying to stay current with developing computer skills. Surrender to the fact that I’ve much to learn, must ask for help, must yield to instruction, follow instructions, then retain all that information to repeat actions in the future.

In order to finish what I originally set out to do: write about my word for this year, I had to teach myself a new skill which was to find the title of a previous post and insert it correctly with a title and not a long list of… what is the computer word for a bunch of letters, symbols and ….ahh…yes ‘code’?  This was definitely a ‘learn as I go’ post.

I read Claire De Boer’s  article on her chosen word and I borrowed her plan to think, pray and toss around ideas for what my word would be…several options presented themselves until it became clear. It wasn’t until after I’d chosen my word, gone back and read Claire’s article again that I spotted my word right there in the middle of her writing. Thank you Claire. It was confirmation somehow that I was on the right path.

I am currently reading The Inheritance by John and Lyza Clarke who share several of their sailing excursions along with spiritual truths of travelers from the Old Testament. In one particular chapter John was telling about the time he and his son were on the boat together, stuck at dock waiting for some stormy weather of wind and rain to end so they could continue sailing.

John says, “Two things are especially important to remember on a sailboat voyage. One is you need a destination to head for and the second is you have to keep moving. If you stay in one place too long, its charm diminishes and restlessness sets in. A destination gives you a direction, a distance to cover, and a sense of accomplishment. When our children were young, we headed for Desolation Sound and back to Seattle on our summer vacations. They anticipate the special places along the way, like good old Sydney Spit, Hawkins Island, Bucaneer Bay, or Harmony Island, but we always hauled anchor and moved on to the next spot before they grew tired of each place’s uniqueness. By the end of the trip we looked forward to the routines of home and were ready to get off the boat. But then we repeated the same cycle the next year and the kids never tired of it as long as we kept moving.”

I was prompted to read that paragraph several times and then continued to read, “Life, too, needs a purpose or destination to keep progressing toward. We are meant to keep moving toward the inheritance through the lessons God has prepared, to a place where the intimate knowledge of God and a mature character are the goals.”  While John and his son were stuck waiting out the storm they explored the beaches and kept moving and as John says, “talking about life.”

It was during those repeated readings the word FORWARD came to settle upon me as the focus for upcoming year. FORWARD is significant for me because it clarifies how to set goals and ask myself if any particular thought, book, activity or habit will move me or not.

Over my life journey I’ve needed to look back a lot, to sort out where I came from, heal from wounds and discover who I was – a tendency though is to emotionally live back there if I’m not careful. To let go and look FORWARD is wise and good inner advice for me to follow. As I approach my 60th birthday – oh right, that happened in October…as my husband Ross approaches his 60th birthday in February and we anticipate our 35th wedding anniversary in March we’ve planned a fun holiday for ourselves.

A few ideas of putting my word into daily life plan means I can prioritize my writing activities and decide whether they are moving me in the direction I want or need.  I may even dig my paint brushes out of confinement and get creativity going again.

I can focus on the big dream I have of one day walking the Pacific Coast Trail which runs from the Canada/US border all the way to the Mexico border which I’ve loosely read about. In looking toward that walking trek I can make choices about how much I will walk this month, this week, this day. I can choose how I treat my feet, my health, my attitudes about fitness and how I will use my mind while out walking.

I enjoy my family and friends, the game of Pickleball, the recovery/discipleship ministry called Freedom Session and I anticipate what will come in this next year as I keep my word in front of me as a guide. I want to step in the direction of my destination as it unfolds before me.

Oh, and after several hours of experimenting with how to ‘simply’ insert a link from another website I accidentally did it right one time and after that…well, I managed, with help to do it again.   I am moving FORWARD.

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Gold and God – A Winning Match

In exhaustion and exhilaration I climbed in bed for a good night’s sleep.

Earlier in the day I and my female partner had participated in the women’s doubles in the game of Pickleball at the BC Senior Summer Games in Kamloops, BC.  http://www.2013kamloopsbcseniorsgames.org/

This is the first year of going to a rating system of 2.75, 3. 3.25, 3.5, 3.75, 4 and 4.5 and in our category of 3.25 we were in a mix of 4 teams and played each team twice.  We ended up in a 3 way tie with 4 wins and 2 losses each.  It came down to points for and against and we were able to squeak out a Gold medal with 7 points separating Gold, Silver and Bronze.   We were proud of our win.

Laying in bed in my tiny motel room, with my husband snoring beside me, he was nearly drowned out by the fridge whose motor kicked in randomly which sounded like a car motor revving.  On and off, on and off the fridge roared and I eventually put a pillow over my head to assist my ear plugs to do their job of silencing my space so I could sleep.

With the fridge on and off is how I slept, on and off, reliving my day, and to quote my partners description of a restless sleep, “pickling all night.”  I could see myself make great shots, watch balls drop at my feet, sometimes unable, or at other times not even trying to hit it, taking huge sweeps to slam the ball over and across the net – yet miss it completely.  I was feeling the emotions of winning a game and losing a game and my adrenaline simply kept me going in sleep cycles throughout the night until I became fully awake at 5am and began to write.

It reminds of the night my son was born.  There was a 4 hour burst of energy, intensity, focus and full attention to the task at hand of birthing.  Shortly after midnight my prize was born and I was high on adrenaline for the remainder of the night reliving each moment, snippets of conversation and the thrill of knowing I had participated in doing something wonderful – in this case giving birth though I had the assistance of my husband, nursing staff and months of preparation.

My Pickleball games also came with help, lessons, 3 years of learning the game,  months of practice, teamed up with my partner as we chatted about our areas of strengths and areas we needed to work on and asking for tips from others along the way.

My musings of the night took me further as I reflected about my journey through marriage.  Ongoing training, staying focused and to press on toward the goal, to reach my reward reminds me of  the scripture reference from THE MESSAGE in Philippians 3:12-14, “I’m not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made.  But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me.  Friends, don’t get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I’ve got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward – to Jesus.  I’m off and running and I’m not turning back.”

I remembered saying to myself through my various games, “okay, stay focused, watch the ball, and keep your eye on the ball” then feel my body take a readying position to receive whatever came my way.  I was trained to this point, at my level and I was giving it my best shot, literally.

This is a revelation of what Paul (THE MESSAGE) teaches about life, in my spiritual pursuit of living life according to Gods word and his purposes whether it be in play, work or marriage.  To be filled with zeal, train for it, find my strengths, be aware of pitfalls, weaknesses, work on improving and stay focused on the path to my reward, communicate and actively work as a team member with my partner – pick up the slack for each other, yet at the same time, strive for my individual best.

My Pickleball partner and I are well matched each bringing our particular strength to the game and spots where we may have to help each other out of a tough spot, encouraging and strategizing – consoling – spurring one another on.

So like birthing.  So like marriage.  So like the game of life.

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Two Trees and Marriage

ImageOut walking with a friend recently we came upon these two majestic trees.  On a shady trail, these two stood side by side and reached for the sky while clutching the ground for stability. 

Two individual trees different in appearance, separate in several locations, yet linked – entwined, arms together in some places and apart in others. 

In one part of the trunk the two trees come together, “unioned” and then with roots crossing over one another, dig deep into the earth, each seek nourishment and hang on to what feeds them, deep under the soil.

Some branches are bare, having lost or shed leaf while others are green and full of life.

Image

Awesome isn’t it. 

 

What makes these two trees (any particular marriage) work? What are the roots digging down into and what nourishment keeps them alive, separate yet together?  What contributes to a lasting relationship?

What do you think?

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