Alphabet Soup

Today, here at Mayo Clinic, was alphabet soup day for my hubby: EEG, EMG, MRI, etc. I wonder if there is a correlation between which letters are used with the amount of the bill. It filled the day leaving no time for any spare activities. Bob has wanted to go fishing or geocaching, but that is not in the stars at this time. Instead, he got to imitate a chubby pincushion in his EMG. He does not feel neglected.

The technicians stopped on some of the evaluations to call the lead doctor. I doubt they were checking on the doc’s evening activities, and it’s about three weeks until we hear about any of the results. It’s one of those things where we want them to find something to explain Bob’s pain but nothing too severe. Note: I am not Bob’s only pain!

Tomorrow Bob gets to go get his hands slapped as they review his medications and urge him to take the non-narcotic path to a long life of chronic pain. That will surely boost his mood. It will be reunion day for me at St. Mary’s Pain Clinic. That’s where I stayed for three weeks not that long ago. He also has the full gambit of psychological and cognitive testings lasting the whole afternoon. They say to even bring snacks since the exams are lengthy. I don’t think they had in mind a suitcase of yummies, but they never listed any specifics and Bob likes to be prepared. I hate those tests where you have to reach a ceiling – a specific number of consecutive errors. No matter how you do on the test, you just remember ending with a bunch of wrong answers. Scores from earlier tests he took back home will be used for comparison purposes. Psychologists will ask him all sorts of fun things like reciting the pledge backwards after stating the prime numbers larger than 3,000 while doing cartwheels around the room. OK, I might have slightly exaggerated on the last one, but you get the main idea.

I forgot some of the beauty I am able to see while I wait for Bob during his testings. It sends shivers up my arms straight to my heart as I notice couples holding hands while waiting for other doctor appointment or a solemn senior quietly kissing her husband while she strains pushes his wheelchair down the hall. Moms bounce babies with silent tears streaming down their cheeks. Teenagers pace around the chairs pretending they are too cool to worry but never take their eyes from their devoted parents just across the room.

Love echoes through the halls and provides the stamina needed for the nine million tests ordered each day. If you strain your ears in a quiet corner, you can hear all those prayers heading straight to God. Life is good.

God Uses Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good

        -  You see those herculean bonds of love supporting those with chronic pain.

Chocolate Mousse

We are done with Bob’s Day 1 at Mayo and we are both exhausted. The psychologists and neurologists were rather blunt with lots of questions beginning early this morning. We retold our February 2008 story over and over. That’s the famed date when Bob tried the ballerina move on the driveway and lost to the ice. It’s amazing how few of the facts he remembers from that debacle and how clearly I can visualize the whole thing.

My dilemma came when I needed to inform the doctor of some of Bob’s memory issues. I was ready to tell some of my versions but not with my poor hubby looking in shock next to me. He knew he had some cognitive problems but didn’t realize the frequency or severity of his memory problems. Meanwhile, while I was talking to the doctor, he kept throwing out numbers and words for Bob to remember. All this was happening while he was struggling to put on his socks. You get the idea. This is starting to look like my vertigo testing was a cakewalk. Can you repeat 7 digits five minutes after you initially hear them when you have multiple other questions thrown at you?

Tomorrow we have alphabet soup: EEG, EKG, MRI, etc, etc. At least he just needs to stay still and smile. My goofy hubby will surely fall asleep – no kidding. Contact me quickly if you want in on the pool on how long before the examiner can hear his snores.

I told Bob we would not keep his new sleeping plan for the hours here in Rochester. He told me then we shouldn’t worry about the point values of all those goodies I put in my mouth. He even brought yummy chocolate mousse to prove his point. His bet will be that in the middle of the night, he will get up and see me huddled in the corner of the couch with a bowl of mousse clenched in my hand. Bob just may be right. To my credit, I tried the salad in the cafeteria. Let’s just say they bake better than they prepare other food. Give me a little slack.

The weather is warmer than our last visits. We were here together in January when the temperature plummeted to -22^O.  Remember my post in Balmy Minnesota. I came up for a month starting in March when the spring weather was great. Now we’re here in July when there are new temperature records, this time the opposite of January.

I’ll keep you informed with this post. Please pray for strength for my hubby. These appointments aren’t all filled with a food buffet. Pray for my strength that I won’t be up in the middle of the night slurping down that mousse. Man, life is good.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good

       Who else can have a mousse pool? Hmmmm! Life is good.

A Bigger Twinge

I’ve refrained from writing lately on my blog. My recent absences are due to the #Convention2012 for Stampin’ Up. It was a great few days seeing many wonderful classes and lots of new products.  Information about a special club will be coming soon. Our home has been covered with uneasiness over these next few days at Mayo Clinic making it difficult to share how we are doing. We’re unsure what to expect as doctors examine all of Bob’s past medical records since that famous day in February 2008 that transformed our lives.

Bob slipped and fell on the ice that fateful day. He joined the ranks of disabled and had his life bombarded with huge changes that didn’t have his stamp of approval. Many activities were just ripped from his capabilities while he wanted to cling to at least some of his past. That’s how Bob views it.

I view it as a narrow escape from the world of quadriplegia. I still feel the weight of a surgeon’s arm as we stand in a hospital hallway looking at crushed vertebrae.  Bob doesn’t remember those weeks immediately after the fall. He can look at our mailbox without shudders of past images floating by. The hours with specialists and their solemn faces as they warned me of the horrid possibilities Bob may have to face are unknown to Bob. I lived in the ICU with the support of staff, friends and family in a time of tears and fears. That’s when I realized the stupendous power of prayer.

We don’t know what will happen here. Will the doctors merely agree with the diagnosis and send us on our way? Will some of their suggestions be difficult to accept? Will the prognosis dim dreams and hopes for the future? We don’t know. Period. That doesn’t concern me as much as it haunts my husband.

I remember Bob had such grand expectations of Mayo when I was the patient. He worshipped the sacred power bursting from the walls of this Rochester monument. My hubby confidence soared, so sure that my headaches and vertigo would magically disintegrate when the Mayo wand was twirled in my direction. It didn’t work that way.

Please think of us throughout these next days. I’ll take time to post our daily actions, just as I first started blogging about my days in balmy Minnesota.  I love it. We come in January when the mercury dipped to -22^o without the effect of wind chill. Now we come in the cool days of July. We’re nuts. Stay tuned for power packed posts. In reality, there will be lots of sitting and waiting and sitting some more as Bob undergoes multiple assessments. I’m sure I’ll sorely miss my life of excitement at home where I would watch our grass turn even browner and crispier. What we could really use our some prayers of comfort coming this way. Right now, emotions of fear, trepidation and determination are mixed with a twinge of hope. Help us get a bigger twinge. Help my hubby know that life is good.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good

        - It’s like déjà vu staying in the same hotel and even going to a favorite restaurant. Thanks God! Leave it to the Ichida’s to calm jitters with ice cream therapy.

Amen

It’s a hot, summer afternoon as the sun continues to shine and the clouds forget to rain. People have hunkered down in their homes as they use air conditioning to hide from the heat and humidity.

We had a guest pastor this morning as our usual minister has taken a well-deserved break. The sermon had several thought provoking points that I will let roll around in my hollow head. I like when he commented that when we gather at the table for communion, it prepares us to gather around all our other tables this week: boardroom, council, committee and kitchen. That’s a nice imagery that has escaped me up to now.

He also described the puzzling reminder about the 2000-year age of Christianity. To really think how many people still gather in worship after all these years. In that holy place, we even confess our sins, a unique thought in this day and age. Forgiveness is an often forgotten skill as people clamor to the top despite whom they step on during the climb. A few politicians have vainly attempted such a maneuver in front of microphones, as the forgiving wife stands mute in the background. Is he really asking for forgiveness?

I just got sent this web site: http://www.dogwork.com/prybrme8/

I think these pets pray far more than so many others in this world. Supposedly 80% of the United States say they pray. The big questions are when, where and why do they pray. Is it only a command to God for healing? Is it once a week at church? Is it a mechanical voice quickly uttering a memorized verse without any meaning? God really is pretty patient with us.

Hopefully, I provided a few things to think about today. Did you gather at the Lords table for communion? Does it have an impact on your day? Do you really ask for forgiveness? Is it from your heart?

More and more, I spend time talking to God. Although I am guilty of sometimes spitting out the memorized Lutheran mealtime blessing and night time Our Father. I also say both versions of "Now I lay me . . ." as my head hits the pillow. I like the idea sometimes of falling asleep while still talking to God. Do I really believe He heard my words? Did it make any difference with anything?

I am getting to like how the Mormon faith has NO memorized prayer. Instead, they pray what is in their minds and hearts. Does that really help to carry through their day?

So go spend some time with God and thank Him for a life that is good.

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

        - I have lots of extra time to talk to God through prayer.

The Prudent Tongue

In my current Bible Study with Good Morning Girls, warnings have burst from verses telling of the power of our words. Utterances can be either good or evil, their power is still the same. We all know of instances when friendships have been destroyed because the tongue worked faster than the heart. We have been the person whispering the words or the subject of the gossip. How can it be so hard to keep the tongue from wagging.

My yoga instructor recently heard at a conference the acronym WAIT: Why Am I Talking. In her case it is meant for the yoga instructor, but this advice has far grander uses. So often I leave my home with a conviction that only positive words would flow out of my mouth. That works until I am 2 minutes on my way. Unrequested critiques just bounce right out of my lips. I hear some juicy gossip and there is a primal need to join in on the discussion. “Look what she has the audacity to wear,” comes from my wisdom gained on What Not to Wear. “She’s really gaining weight. You wouldn’t believe it.” I say that when my own scale screams numbers far more than healthy. “She thinks she is so darn special!” I must be “specialer” to make that judgement. Where do these words come from?

Proverbs 10:9b matter of factly states, “the prudent holds their tongues.” Obviously I can scratch “prudent” from my list of personal characteristics. Besides, today’s society doesn’t reward those who are discreet or sober. This term is dated, used more in my great grandmothers day as hooped skirts filled the hall. What’s really the big deal now?

Political parties throw negative claims at the other candidate, but we should somehow be better than the people we choose to lead us. Hmm. That’s something too true to really ponder. They proudly declare it will be a positive campaign until they take three steps from that podium or television microphone. We ask for forgiveness in church, but are hardly out in the narthex before hurtful thoughts stream through our brains.

The Bible has had lots to say to me lately as I read verses throughout the Old and New Testaments. Now I just need to follow through on these time honored verses. Wish me luck.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good

-       I have lots of time to open my Bible and then open my heart.

References are for www.Goodmorninggirls.org. Check it out!

Humor at Every Turn

During the last few months, I haven’t placed any of my blogs on Good Morning Girls. In past studies, I have hurried to finish my writings so my thoughts could be among women who write on a regular basis AND have countless people daily reading their words. (Pause here so you can feel that sense of wonder. Maybe even quietly and slowly whisper “Wow!”) I have been shocked to see comments from women from countries literally throughout the world. It was more than a pride issue even though I did sit a little taller when typing at the computer. It was a sense of awe that I was part of a bigger picture in which countless women pause to read the same Bible verses that morning as I. I was humbled to be a tiny piece of that whole picture. Wow! Life IS good.

Yet these past months, I have continued to blog but with diminished frequency and different topics. My thoughts, rare as they may be, have not included these Bible readings because I personally was unsure of how to add them. I knew that the majority of my group worried about such a conservative point of view while reading a preponderance of posts. Emails from Good Morning Girls keep coming at rates that flood my virtual mailbox. This increased volume is a new feature that highlights my failure to focus on this study. Although Proverbs 31 declares the path to become a good wife, feelings of hurt and depression blanket too many of my friends without a ring on their left hands.

Last night, I’ve challenged myself to share my thoughts despite the difficulties briefly described in the above paragraph and thank you God, the words from today’s verses bounced off the page right at me. The pronoun in this verse can even be switched to “he” for God’s talking to everyone here. God really is a remarkable guy. One of the verses says,

                        She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh

                        at the days to come.                                    Proverbs 31:25

These are some of the traits for which I have yearned for a long time. How in the world can I have dignity when my steps, due to my vertigo, have me bouncing off the trees as I stumble down the block? When feeling cruddy, my little grandson (yep, I’m a grandma) has more fortitude and tenacity than I. I don’t see strength or dignity hanging anywhere near my house.

Yet I stop to continue to read this verse. “She can laugh at the days to come.” Now here is a trait to which I cling:  humor. Where would I be without giggling at some of our predicaments? How many other couples can support each other when one is drooping and the other pirouetting down their paths? Don’t get me wrong for I can throw my share of pity parties, but the end results are actual guffaws when we both lay splattered on the floor with our dog Einstein joining in the ruckus. Then I back up, or spin 180^O, to notice that there is a different kind of strength in my movements. I’m still rocking and rolling after three years of dizziness and I’ve got my share of bruises to prove it, but I straighten back up with a presumed dignity that I could never possess without the grace of God.

My stumbles now are fewer, but I do know this verse for I have tried my durndest to not let others feel discouraged and distraught about their chronic pain. I have written these posts so heads all over can pivot up to the heavens to declare, “I hear you God. With you, I can muster up the power to get back up.” Now I don’t exactly pop right up and walk the straight and narrow. My path still meanders along the way, but if I stop to giggle with friends, new and old, the route looks a whole lot straighter. I have found my own version of strength and dignity. Thanks God for life is good.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good

-       When I stop bellyaching about my troubles, I can find a special strength and dignity. Thanks God! Life is really good!

Take time to check out www.goodmorninggirls.org for more viewpoints about these verses.

A Band-Aid with Feelings

I am surprised that I have not been adding to my blog as frequently as I had originally planned in my rattled little head. I feel part of the difficulty lies in determining my purpose. That sounds like music should suddenly boom from your computer as I lumber off into the sunset. This blog had been written in the attempts to inform people what life with chronic pain is all about. I also wanted to tell others about the care provided at Mayo. I have used it as a short devotional approach, particularly over the Advent season. I like to add a bit of humor because that is my personality and I don’t want to be boring. I am many things, but few people can splat me with the adjective of boring. Deciding on my humor is tough though because I have been scolded for using humor aimed at myself, particularly about my less than svelte form, yet that larger silhouette is such an easy target to hit. I would love to hear your feedback. If commenting is not your cup of tea, which is apparently pretty true since I get NO comments, jot me an email. Help me!

The weather has been ridiculously hot. Summer storms have knocked out the electricity in many homes with huge trees falling over power lines. We were blessed with our new generator; yes that generator that I complained about just a couple of weeks ago. Just ignore my words on that post. My hubby was actually right and I already humbled myself and told him so. I just didn’t use a very loud voice, but it should be considered louder than a whisper. It’s not my fault that the washer is so loud.

Our pastor had a wonderful sermon and children’s sermon this past Sunday. It speaks of my maturity level that I gain so much that is aimed primarily at the kids. Everybody worshipping that day received a band-aid. We were to immediately put it on our hand despite the possibility of wrappers all over the place. Whenever we spotted that bandage, we were to say a special prayer. Some members of the congregation printed a name on their new band-aid. That visual provided that reminder to continuously pray for someone in particular. I still have my band-aid on my finger and it has worked by focusing my thoughts on God. A really wonderful part of this idea was that the kids from the children’s sermon were the people who passed out band-aids to all. Nothing like a small smiling face filled with pride to remind me to turn to God with my prayers.

Another wonderful part of Pastor Hellstedt’s sermon was a neat slogan to remember during our talks with God. I don’t remember the person who created this suggestion, but one must “Pray Your Feelings”. I realized that I am quick to tell God He is fabulous and thank Him for my blessings (like that new home generator). I give umpteen supplications. My list of prayers aimed at assisting others increases faster than active bunnies. I talk to God about my difficulties. I even have improved asking for God’s will to be done rather than mine, but stating my actual feelings have been obsolete.  When Bob and I were in Marriage Encounter, we learned an integral part of good communication is to emphasize our feelings rather than our spouse’s actions. That comes down to eliminating stuff like “Darn it, Bob. If I have to pick up your socks one more time . . .” A better approach might be “I feel frustrated when I see . . .” If that advice works to ease miscommunication with my sweet hubby, it surely works with God too. Try it! It has been great guidance for me and even makes me figure out my feelings better. Hey, maybe that’s what God is going for.

Enjoy your Fourth of July activities. May you all find cool shade, a nice breeze or an escape to air-conditioning. As you gather those deviled eggs and hamburger buns, pick up a band-aid or two. We might be starting a whole new social trend. Talk to God about your feelings. Explain that nervousness, shame or glee. Then watch those fireworks with lots of ooohs and ahhhhs. Don’t be a fuddy duddy and observe that sky without any enthusiasm because God has provided a life that is very good.

God Uses My Chronic Pain to Prove that Life is Good

       -    Handicapped parking helps us sneak into great spots to watch the sky. Life is Good!