THE Tub

I can feel the rush of the holidays begin to push me on with the tide. Our job as Christians is to slow that ebb and focus on the true meaning of Christmas. That almost sounds impossible now and I don’t have any work responsibilities or little feet urging me forward. Even now, I finished my Good Morning Girls Bible study and was ready to dash off to finish cleaning up and putting up holiday decor. Instead, I wanted to stop to write.

We leave tomorrow for Connecticut, so there are bags to pack and laundry to be done. I need to gather up the presents I already purchased for my boys. I told Bob that I would put up decorations until we left, and then time out, decorating was done. I thought that would slow me down to prepare. Instead it has the speed for today on high. Oh no!

Last night, Bob was already dreaming of sugar plum fairies or the pathetic Bears when I went downstairs with some big tubs to store down there. I even crawled up into the crawl space to finish looking through the additional tubs to find special items that had to make the Tuesday deadline. That’s when I made my big mistake.

I opened THE TUB, that special one that is stocked full of holiday movies, Christmas music and all of my precious books. I have gathered almost a tub of books that get lugged up every December for my personal enjoyment. I always try to read them all in my big, comfy recliner by the light of the Christmas tree. It’s perfect when it is snowing, and I have a big cup of hot chocolate close at hand. I own wonderful picture books for the young in all of us. They progress all the way to novels, with all sorts of books in between. One such novel is The Autobiography of Santa Claus; I highly recommend it. The books have always transported me to locations far and near, taking my mind off any pain that I have that day. What a beautiful way to rid the discomfort without the use of strong medication.

I guess that I am writing you this with a twofold message. To those of you who also have that chronic pain that tries to take all the memory making out of these next weeks, don’t you dare let it. Find your secret escape, like my devotion to my books. To all the rest of you who are running around at warp speed on your “normal” days – stop. Take a breather and find some special joy. Spend time with the kids or hubby. You don’t know how long you will be blessed with a day like today. It just takes one slip on the ice to drastically change your life big-time. Prepare yourself for Jesus to come again. Are you really ready for that? Listen, and then listen some more. If you turn your head just so you will hear the true meaning of Christmas. Stop and listen. Life is good!

One More Way God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:

    -  I get to slow down to read my special books and hear the angel singing Alleluia.

Ornaments

It’s a relaxing Sunday. The Christmas tree is lit and adorned with a multitude of ornaments each filled with wonderful memories of love, friendship and the fantastic bonds of family. I see ornaments made by the hands of each member of our household. There’s even one from my fabulous nephew Ryan when he was but a lad. Prior students have either crafted some by hand or purchased them with love.

I still have a small ornament from 1982. It’s just a small box of grapes with a holiday greeting, but it’s one of the ornaments that mean the most. I still remember when it was pressed in my hands by a special mom of one of my delightful developmentally delayed students. She urgently whispered, “This is from Angela Antonacci, Mario Antonacci’s mother.” I didn’t whisper back that I only had one Mario Antonacci. I just smiled inside; much like the smile I have 29 years later.

I always hand a purple toothbrush on my tree. One year Julie, another fifth grade teacher, joined me in holiday shopping for needy children. We were shocked to see listed next to one child’s name the honest request for a mere toothbrush. The profound sense of need and greed slapped against our souls that day. We purchased a toothbrush, but we placed it upon one of many other Christmas packages. We also bought enough toothbrushes for every member of our classrooms, along with ourselves. They were sent home with a brief description of its symbolism. We hoped it would be a reminder of the true meaning of Christmas giving. It is for me!

Probably my favorite ornament is a good-sized dark green wreath, molded in resin. It’s not fancy, and it doesn’t represent some beautiful Christmas story. It’s just a plain green wreath with a red bow and a few scattered berries. Bob and Stephanie gave it to me for our first Christmas as a family. Bob had taken Stephanie shopping at the mall with grand ideas of Hallmark happiness. It ended up that they got kicked out of the Hallmark store for a heated exchange of which ornament would be the best for me. Stephanie won! Shockers! Even so, it undoubtedly is one of the least gorgeous ornaments upon the tree, but it depicts the strong love of a new family and the dreams of a wonderful man to make the Christmas of 1989 the best possible for his new wife and daughter.

It took me forever to finish placing many of our holiday ornaments upon the tree. Each ornament was wrapped in that bubble wrap and paper, cleaned this summer by the restoration crew after our fire. I also don’t move very well. The majority of ornaments ranges from an easy arm’s reach when perched upon a stool to shoulder height when I was standing. Bending brings on vertigo, so it is highly discouraged in our home. What really slowed progress was taking time to quietly reminisce about each decoration that now proudly hangs upon our tree!

Today is the first day of Advent. Use these days to prepare your heart. Find your memories and begin new traditions. Merry Advent everyone.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove Life is Good

     -  My chronic pain slows down my movement, thus giving me more time to examine each memory from my heart. Life is good.

Gobble, Gobble

The big day has arrived that symbolizes many of my personal characteristics. The first trait that comes to mind is pure gluttony. It suddenly is fine to partake in a less than scientific query into the amount of calories that can be consumed during one setting. An additional requirement is that one must continue to nibble on leftovers prior to the completion of clean-up detail. Since there will just be three of us gathered in our home this year, I think I have convinced my husband to forego of three kinds of starchy potatoes. I hate to brag about this miniscule of moderation though until I see the big bird sliced on the counter and ready to eat.

Bob and I were able to attend the multi-denomination service held at our church last night. It sends shivers to be part of an annual event that makes God smile. All donations went to benefit our local food pantry. Yes, there are people who are homeless and without warm meals right here in the northwest suburbs of Chicago. The service concludes with one of the Lutheran symbols of fellowship: pie and more pie. Seven different faiths were formally recognized during the ideal start of this holiday weekend.

I’m sitting watching the Macy’s parade, just as anxious to view Santa as any little one gathered nationwide. My daughter’s family is similarly huddled around their TV watching each helium filled creation with awe. Although it seems somewhat hollow with the absence of our daughter, we know that many of the same traditions are being followed in her home. Her Facebook status said it all by announcing her gratefulness that although her husband is working, he is not deployed in a far-away place of danger.

I hope to make my first dent in the creation of our Christmas cards as we once again return to homemade expressions declaring Christ’s birth. The huge newspaper sits nearby so I can plan any adventures that assist our national economy. The shopping now starts tonight. I have a big hunk already finished with boxes being delivered to my son-in-law thanks to online shopping. Next month is our version of matching the national deficit with not only Christmas, but also the birthdays of my two precious grandsons.

So thanks God for giving me the means to jabber about my many blessings. You have given me a life partner who loves me just the way I am. We work together as a team, hopefully showing others of the glory of your love. Although I joke about our less than stellar health records, this country provides us with all those specialists and the means to get their services. Our cabinets are brimming with foods, many of which are high caloric. I sit typing on the computer that provides me with live observations of my fabulous daughter and her family. I have the time to blog away my thoughts and feelings to people far and wide.

So God bless you all. Life is very good!

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:

     -  I have a multitude of blessings that represent a glimpse of your unconditional love.

Medical History

The colder weather has swirled around our home reminding us of the calendar changes. I’ve written before about my preference for balmy weather and my limited temperature range of liking. I complain about the weather so well; I should be proud that I found something where I excel.

We have survived our two weeks of whirlwind doctor appointments. We have had eight visits to physicians in the past dozen days. Forget about that eating apples stuff to ward off doctors. I love apples, but I am no stranger to doctors. I wonder what would happen if I didn’t eat apples. Pretty scary stuff!

My appointment today was with my pain doctor. We discussed my trial with my neurostimulator. I’ve found that this device helps out during the late night hours. My sleep pattern lengthened. I still woke up with discomfort in my hips, but I could actually roll over with relative ease. I didn’t need to grab onto the blankets and make faces more appropriate for viewing scary movies or looking in the mirror in the morning.

My next step is to begin my appointments with the same doctor who performed the surgeries on Bob PI, post ice. When my pain doctor asked if I had heard of this physician, both my husband and I grinned like toddlers viewing a Christmas tree early on the morning of December 25^th. We owe a great deal to this doctor, luckily not the green stuff that quickly disappears from our checking account. I met this surgeon in the emergency room right after Bob fell. I was always impressed by the amount of time he spent explaining options, procedures and test results to me. He actually would bring me bananas or the beloved apples to eat while I talked outside Bob’s ICU room. When we saw him last month for a check-up for my darling husband, a sense of relief and hope washed over both of us. We both have total faith in this doctor who got us through some very delicate weeks.

How blessed Bob and I are. There are wonderful physicians with microscopic specialties working close to our home. Bob saw a neuro-ophthalmologist on Wednesday.  Say that fast five times. We have seen our primary physician, a devoted doctor who has come to know us better than maybe we know ourselves. You should see the size of our files. We joke that Bob and I must fill in a complete file cabinet drawer all by ourselves. We don’t quite see the benefit of the computer’s memory when we watch a nurse try to heft one of our files down the hall. We also got to see two different physiologists. Bob needs two because he is so special. I bet that most of you reading can’t easily define the role or benefit of a physiologist. I bet that most days we can’t either. Last week I saw my pulmonologist. Bob sees a different pulmonologist in the same office. We started this doctor marathon with Stephanie when we had our family conference with a neurologist explain the testing results of a neuropsychologist who specializes in brain injuries. I can understand why our health insurance representatives must cringe when they notice our name come across their computer screens.

I was thrilled that we had no scheduled doctor appointments for the rest of November. When you add the two weeks when we will be visiting my daughter’s family during the beginning of December, I could break into some of my old disco moves. (I don’t think I mean that literally, but you can picture me shaking and moving if you want a good laugh.) The whole medical community might go in shock if we are MIA. This could hit the national news and create havoc with the medical economy. Four whole weeks – doctor free.

Of course, I have to get together with the surgeon about my neurostimulator. It would be great if this could happen in 2011 since I have already met my maximum out-of-pocket expenses. Can you imagine a big surgery at the hospital and we wouldn’t have to pay a dime? Hmmm. We just might have some doctor appointments after all.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:

-       Just think – a whole surgery with no bills. Awesome! We might make the national news after all.

I Hate Pain!

I hate pain! While Stephanie was growing up before my eyes, I forbid the use of that four-letter word. I cringed when hearing the overuse of this verb by toddlers and teenagers alike. I hate peas. I hate math. I hate you! Do peas really cause that strong of a reaction as hate? Try math, you might come to like it more when you understand it better! (Boy, that statement works well with people also!) What did your parent do that causes you to use such a violent word that breaks the heart of the person who loves you so much? Does hate last for just a few minutes, only for it then to be magically transformed into love without any action by either party?

Yet, I sit at my computer using the dreaded word. I purposefully made this decision last night, and my viewpoint has not wavered one iota. I admit few individuals exist who would so closely deliberate the use of a term considered basic in today’s society. Yet I tell you this so you know the degree to which my hatred has grown. I hate pain!

Pain has crashed upon the souls of this home with continuous pounding and thrashing. I’ve used all my effort to jump above its swells only to be thrown against the rocks of agony. I’m ignorant of ways to ignore pain’s torment as I fall victim to the true affliction of this word.

Now most of you might be confused about the strong nature of this post. I’m the one with rose-colored glasses who jokes about my medical status and plunges through my discomfort. I’ve learned the best defense against this nasty opponent is to choose the positive attitude. I don’t intend to change that reaction. Regardless, I need to take time to shout out, “I hate pain!”

Bob’s body has continued to be wracked with chronic pain for over three years. When this distress has lasted month after month, it deteriorates the psyche and stretches to overcome the nature of all loving caregivers. Confusion, disbelief and surrender blanket the entire home. When both residents suffer from chronic pain, an air of defeat pounds down on the occupants.

I hate pain! I hate my inability to hold a pencil to write things down. I hate that my husband so readily falls when his legs lack the strength to hold him. I hate the bandages that have so frequently covered my body in attempts to alleviate the pain. I hate the cost of medications that overflow from drawers and cabinets. I hate that we can’t join our peers for dinner since neither of us are capable of guaranteeing a relaxed evening in a restaurant. I hate the inability to converse when my stuttering attacks my speech. I hate when Bob’s brain injury forbids him from partaking in a simple conversation with his wife. I hate waking up hourly to reposition my frame so I can reduce the cramping, twinges and shots of pain that shoot through my body and fight for my soul. I hate pain! I really hate pain!!

At midday, my cries have lessened but still patiently remain close at hand. The electrical leads placed against my spine are proof to the extremes I will take to prevent pain from ruling my life. The two remotes are attached to all clothing I attempt to wear. (I now use a Thirty-One wallet and attach it through my belt loops or use the pouch of hoodies to hold these twin remotes surgically attached to my body.) The sunshine sheds light throughout our home, begging for us to join the living. The unconditional love from our creator and the presence of his Holy Spirit are brought to mind through various Bible studies.

I hate pain though! I hate what it has done to the character of my husband. I hate the limitations it has done to my schedule. I hate the hours of solitude it has blanketed my soul. I hate pain.

Now that I have dressed and appear ready to face the world, I force my hatred into a small compartment of my heart and pray for it to remain hidden as long as possible. I pray for God to remove the pain and be near me when it erupts. I thank Him for the opportunities He has granted me and the loving help that now appear at my side.

I need to go to my surgeon today so a nurse can re-bandage all the paraphernalia residing on my back. The staff has always treated me with respect and dignity as they care for my condition. I was able to get a ride to his office, (driving is off limits while I am on this trial) quickly from a lengthy list of volunteers. I look upon my list of friends and throw myself to the ground in thanksgiving. (The throwing on the ground part is used figuratively, not literally!)

So I hate pain! I will continue to move forward and follow the path God has made for me. I hate pain, but I will help Bob maneuver past his pain and rest upon new adventures. I hate pain, but I feel blessed to have people pause to read my blog and ponder at my musings.  I hate pain, but I adore the small faces of my grandchildren and the abounding love from my daughter. (My son-in-law is pretty darn good too!) I hate pain, but I will not let it rule my life for you see dear friends, life is good!

God Uses Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good:

     -  He places angels along my path to comfort, encourage and love me. Thanks God! Life is very good!

Call Me Mrs. Excitement

Well, I’m slightly more coherent today, but not quite “there” all the same. This morning, I was fortunate enough to provide the continuing education for our church’s Stephen Ministers. The topic was prayer: two exciting new programs that we will soon offer as well as using beads as prayer tools. With my brain closely resembling the product of a local smoothie machine, I need all of the help that I can get. I have found these aids to be beneficial to both my prayer and meditation practices. (Wow, that last sentence sounded pretty official.)

Despite my thrill at talking about improving prayer at my church, it really wore mr out. By the time I made it home, I could hear my bed screeching for me once Bob drove within three miles of our home. I gratefully used the stair chair, and then grimaced as I placed this cumbersome body on the bed. I read about two paragraphs prior to falling asleep. The pain still woke me frequently throughout the afternoon, but it began to give me some relief.

I really need to discover the best settings for walking, moving and even typing up my blog. They weren’t kidding when I was told the no reaching, bending or twisting rules. The twinges that I feel aren’t really comfortable, and our couch does little to reassure my back that all is fine with the world. Yet, I’m doing much better now than I did yesterday so I am heading in the right direction.

Tomorrow afternoon I hope to show my respects at the funeral of a truly loving and Christian man. My favorite part of this chivalrous gentleman is how he referred to his late wife. Although she preceded his death by many years, he always referred to her as “his bride.” He loved for life. He was a fabulous role model to the young and old alike. As one of our church’s first Stephen Ministers, he daily demonstrated Christ’s love for neighbors. Cancer is a fast foe, attacking all races, genders and socioeconomic groups with amazing strength. We’ll miss you Art!

You have now heard my thrilling weekend plans. I can hereafter be called Mrs. Excitement. It’s always pure ecstasy around here. Yet, I notice improvement today compared with yesterday so I’m confident that life is not only good, but getting better each day.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good

     -  When you feel cruddy after a “procedure,” the only way to go is up. J

Thank You God

I'm safely home having survived our five doctor appointments for the week. The trial insertion of the neurostimulator had a few "interesting moments," but "thank you God" I'm safely home in my bed. Thanks to all of you for the added prayers. It ended up they were needed. I got sick as soon as they put me under despite my day of fasting and my oxygen levels did a fast nose dive.  The bad part was that my lungs decided they were done for the day and temporarily went on strike. They were able to wake me up immediately and didn't even get a chance to use the paddles on me.

That also meant that the whole surgery had to be done just with local anesthesia. I soon discovered while people are generally put out with sedation. This was only the second time this doctor performed the procedure with just locals. I was doing pretty well when I left, but the anesthesia has all worn off now.

I have two, not just one, but two remotes attached with wires to my back. I can control the strength of this internal tens unit. I'm still getting used to how to cart all this around with me. Meanwhile, lifting is only two pounds (they have to be nuts), no twisting, bending, lifting my arms more than shoulder high. I can only sponge bathe for the next week (Pee Ewe) and driving a car is just one more no-no.

I'm praying this will bring relief from some of my back and hip pain. If nothing else, it should be a great conversation starter.

After I got home, I got a little more scared as reality set in. I prefer to only hear about paddles on TV shows, thank you very much. Thank you all so much for the prayers. I really felt calm during the escapades. I told the doctor I just made him earn his money, and the most I can pay is $91.

Go kiss someone you love. Then whisper to them, "Life is good!"

God Uses Chronic Pain to Prove Life is Good:
     -  It changes your perspectives on what is really important in life. It's like Grey's Anatomy from last night and redefines a bad day. Life is good.

Bionic Woman to Combat Skunk Population

My neurostimulator is scheduled to be inserted in about an hour. I must admit that it feels almost surreal to finally have the big day arrive. How amazing to have wires inside me that I will activate at the touch of a remote. Technology has expanded so much. You might just be able to refer to me as the Bionic Woman. Of course, if they put wires around every part of me that hurts and might benefit from a little touch of technological pain relief, I would more closely resemble the inside of a computer tower or NASCAR engine.

I giggled when I heard that we have almost reached my out of pocket medical expenses for the year. Could it possibly be related to our five doctor appointments for this week alone? I’m sure we are making some Lexus car dealer very happy.

Einstein is meanwhile making his groomer very pleased. He had another encounter with a Mama Skunk and lost. The goofy dog went directly after her once he was let out the door, and then a second time because he was angry that he got sprayed. Now the last time this happened, it was warm outside. I had on shorts and could use the garden hose to wash down the pooch. This time it was in the 30’s, not quite short weather. Even with the plummeting thermometer, we didn’t want the stench of an angry skunk to enter our home. You think we would have learned and had both tomato juice and boracic acid on hand. Nope! Luckily a neighbor had ¾ of a jar of spaghetti sauce. That worked pretty well, but I had difficulty rinsing out the specks of oregano. At least this time, Bob was with Einstein. Now we are even.

I hope today’s unique date brings good things your way. It supposedly brings angels to watch over you and even improve your love life. It doesn’t say anything about good health or skill from surgeons, but it can’t hurt.

I appreciate any extra prayers. I’m wondering whether the wires will somehow vibrate like my old braces did. I could occasionally hear radio signals when I opened my mouth and faced a certain direction. Wouldn’t that be cool if I could do that again or get free WIFI? I’ll keep you up to date. Wow! Life is good!

God Uses Chronic Pain to Show that Life is Good:

     -  Who else has the opportunity to get free WIFI or perhaps extra phone service due to implanted wires? This could really be neat. 

Bulging Walls and Vibrating Ceilings

I think people might be surprised if they took a look at my family room with various toys, magazines and stuffed creatures strewn across the wooden floor. My eldest grandson got a four-wheeler that could climb over items and keep on moving, so we had to experiment to see which objects could become impossible hurdles while others were climbed with ease.

The little guy is more like a little hurricane that rushes through the room leaving behind a variety of items. During the next month we are bound to find some tiny sock hidden in a corner. His ham personality brings continuous, unrestrained laughter to old grandparents. I love to see him stuff something under his left arm and keep on traveling along. As he leaves a restaurant, he’s bound to take the last few French fries and stuff them in his mouth while he clutches the remnant of his hamburger in his chubby little fists.

Einstein is exhausted. He soundly sleeps on the chair, grateful for the quiet that has now descended on our home. He was a good boy with the kids, but he sure isn’t used to small fry running with delight through our home. He probably won’t wake up until next Thursday.

My daughter did her very best to cross off items from my To Do List. We finally have the cabinets in order. Thank goodness. The sippy cups and plastic plates have been returned to a top shelf. I’ll be thrilled to have to climb up there for the next visit whenever that may be.

I love looking at my bed, with a few remnants from a grandma snuggle with one of the cutest grandkids in the whole wide world. A Mercer Mayer book lies stranded on the duvet and a resin dinosaur is all set to scare Poppy when his head hits his pillow.

Although our limbs are weary, we both treasure the last few days. You see, God blessed us with this wonderful daughter who continues to be central in our family. She has formed this loving, Christian home, perfect to raise two glorious boys. Her handsome Navy Lieutenant husband lovingly balances their family. Our three-year-old grandson has already memorized more Bible verses than most adults. Do you know Romans 5:8?

The love in our home vibrated off the ceiling, bulging the walls with laughter and memories. I loved the bubbly bath time as children were transformed into Santa. Poppy made a special trip to the donut store with Teddy where he waited until a clerk made stripes on the pumpkin donut. Teddy and I made a fast trip to a nearby park while his brother took an afternoon nap. This toddler had the audacity to kick my tushie in a game of Candyland. This Connecticut trio provided the best medicine Bob and I could dream of acquiring in just three very full days. Our bodies might now be collapsed on the couch, but our hearts have the imprints from two charming boys and their spectacular mother.

God Uses Chronic Pain to Show Life is Good

     -  We didn’t have to go to work and instead got time to shop and play. Life is good!

Nice Job John

Today’s reading for Good Morning Girls was longer than usual but filled with comforting applications directly from God.

We need to use actions instead of words. That is kind of amusing since I am using words as I type these sentiments into my computer. I am taking some action though by then placing it on my blog. (I know, I’m pushing it there.) My home is bulging with a plethora of material possessions. I’m still aghast at the number of homeless items still crammed in boxes and totes from our kitchen renovation and fire in the basement. We continue to give much away to various charities. Large trucks are here about twice a month to gather additional “stuff” that shows our gluttony. These donations are still pittance to the material we should be giving to those in need. I could dress the better half of the entire Chicagoland if I even gave away the clothes that my body can’t even fathom squeezing into some day.

I loved the words used by John, “set our hearts at rest in our presence.” We must be able to find that inner peace and contentment so often lacking in our hearts. This is like our conscience for it adds that without this, we know “God is greater than our hearts.” I think of the amount of money spent in search of this contentment as we attempt to lather in expensive substitutes for peace. Trips to the spa, weekend splurge vacations, snuggly clothes and blankets, retreats for meditation and relaxation are all part of our busy lives. We beg for peace; we just don’t know what to do to get it. What if we gave away the money we use in search for peace?

Thanks John for providing time worthy advice to those of us who are frantically rushing through our own lives looking for a way to slow down. I better stop writing now and put these thoughts in motion. It will take me 47 minutes to even get this old body in motion.

God Uses Chronic Pain to Show that Life is Good:

-       My body can’t care for all of my possessions, thus get rid of some of my greed!

Once again, please check out the site www.goodmorninggirls.org