My dear Bishop and first counselor came over one night unexpectedly. They said they felt they should come. For the first time, when the bishopric has come to my house, I didn't want to come out and talk. I was hurt. I was hurting physically. And I quite honestly was in so much pain that I didn't want to move. However, Thomas insisted.
They asked the normal "how are you doing?" questions. I have learned to respond so everyone is convinced I am okay. I add just enough reality with a dose of hope and people just assume all is well and move on. That is what I was hoping for this night. If I would just do what I had practiced so well over the years, they soon would leave believing I was actually okay.
The questions came, I answered. Some truthfully, if they were not about me or how I was coping, but about me, I gave the "correct" responses.
Then, a question came that I wasn't prepared for. The question threw me so hard that tears fell freely down my face. I could no longer hide behind that deep wall I have built to let others only see the person I want them to see.
Surprisingly, the first counselor responded. He told me that being only in the ward about a year, he didn't know me as well as the rest of the ward did. However, he spoke of different lessons others had learned because of me, how others were strengthened because of me and how he knew he would be unable to handle the road I walk.
I answered that I honestly believe that we chose our journey in the pre-existence and that knowing the big picture, gladly accepted the challenge, knowing the good that would abound from it.
Again, he threw me off course. He asked me the following, "Jerlyn, are you really going to give up now and let the adversary win?" and really without pausing, continued for a while speaking, "The adversary has done all in his power to rob you of your health, your ability to leave your house, to walk, to eat, to keep you so close to death that you give up. He has physically thrown every challenge at you to cause you to crumble with the defeat of your mortal body. Yet, you have stood so strong, in spite of every single challenge presented. You have beat him time and time again.
Because you were beating him so badly, and not only was he losing you, but you have taken so many out of the grasp of his hold. That he despises you. He hates you. He has personally raged war on you.
Now, he is trying to take hold of you emotionally. The struggles and challenges facing you, that have attacked your brain and mind, are just that...another way the adversary is trying to shut you down. He is throwing all his best efforts at you, determined to see you fall.
Jerlyn, after years and years of unparalleled struggles against him, and all of his strikes and punches and fiery darts that you have dodged and endured yet conquered, are you really going to let him win now?"
I was sucker punched. My heart almost stopped. Tears fell and I sobbed.
I asked the most painful and heartfelt question, "But what if I have nothing left to fight with?"
The bishop stepped in, "That is where the Savior comes in. Jerlyn, YOU KNOW THIS! I have watched you fight him over and over for over four years. You have battled one on one with him so directly that most would have crumbled. Yet, you keep fighting him. This may be the fight of your life. But YOU CAN DO THIS! Do not let him win."
By now, my body was almost convulsing, as I tried to hold it together, very unsuccessfully. I HAD to fight. I HAD to fight because there was no way that I was letting the adversary win. I would go down fighting but I would never surrender. I HAD to fight for my son. I HAD to fight for my husband. I HAD to fight for my sister and so many others. The fight MUST be won. And this was something I HAD to face. There was no turning back now. War has been raged. The fight will continue long past my life. But one thing is for certain. He will NOT win. I will! I am on the winning team. My Savior fights with me. And I may be weak and breakable, but my Savior is strong and unyielding.
I knew in that instance that as long as I continue to breathe, my life would be a fight.
Not only would I be in a physical fight to stay alive. I would also spend every breath, every day, every ounce of mental strength to beat the adversary.
Yet, I was also certain, in those moments, that as long as I continued to try, I would not fail, but I would succeed gloriously. I would win this fight. Most likely, the fight will end with my life, but I will win the fight.
I am reminded again, "I still have a lot of fight left in me!" I guess I raise my sword and battle on.
Thomas, Jerlyn & Hayden Murphy
Thursday, April 14, 2016
Friday, April 8, 2016
EEG/ Despair (part 2)
As I found myself struggling to get out of bed or survive, I grew more and more frightened. I prayed and prayed and prayed for help or someone to help sort through these unfamilar and horrific feelings I was facing.
I received a priesthood blessing from my beloved husband. He laid his hands on my head and offered a beautiful blessing. In it, I was promised protection. Protection from the horrible medication reaction. I breathed a deep breath thinking my living hell would ease and come to an end.
The overwhelming and all encompassing peace that I am used to, didn't come. I beat myself up wondering how and when I had lost my faith and my ability to receive such blessings from my Savior. I again questioned what was wrong with me.
The world became darker and my glimmer of hope for anyone or anything to pull me out faded. I knew I was alone. All alone.
When I thought the literal gates of hell would swallow me up with the sheer misery my heart encountered, the Savior sent help in the form of the bishopric. When they came, I was hurt and angry and didn't want to go to the door. However, Thomas didn't give up as he knew it was what I needed.
When they started discussing Hayden's upcoming Trek, I again found myself telling the Savior that they must have felt inspired to come but were missing what was so needed at this minute. But how do I bring it up and what would they do if I did?
As we talked, I remained hard and cold and calm. I participated in the discussion to the point I had to, and tried to hold it together for Hayden's sake. Then, the question came, "How are you doing?" I tried with all my might to push down the flood of emotions that were ready to break the dam. No such luck.
I explained my anger of the Mayo doctor that lied to us to protect his ego. I talked of all I had lost from his decision. I explained that it took months and years to get medical help because I was labeled anxious. That during the four additional years that it took to get the diagnosis, that my illness has progressed and deteriorated to a point that doctors have no hope of curing me, but are trying to buy me time. No hope of a cure. No hope of the life I was knew. I was forever changed and so was Thomas and Hayden's lives. It wasn't fair. And most of all, I sobbed for all the relationships that suffered and disappeared because I didn't have a diagnosis that they understood. I had lost family, friends, our home, my health, my independence, my freedom, our finances, our lifestyle, our ability to go places and our ability to live a normal life. Because of one man's agency to choose his ego over the truth, my life was in shambles.
The bishop took a deep breath unsure of where to begin. But the first counselor stepped in. He told me he hasn't known me long and vocalized the respect he has for me, the inspiration I am to so many and the way that those around me truly see me. He told me that he would have stopped fighting over five years ago, if in my shoes.
He then said something that struck a cord, a ray of hope. He talked of how he admired that no matter how much Satan fought me and threw absolutely all he could at me, I never faultered but found a blessing in each trial and a fortitude for greater strength in my battles with him. He discussed how the adversary had used every technique possible to destroy me. He tried to kill my mortal body in order to break my spirit. He talked of the great faith I have because I know that I have fought satan head to head and come out victorious.
He then said what I needed to hear.... "After all the battles that have been raged against you and all the fights you have won. Why would you let him get in your head now and try to destoy you mentally?"
I hadn't thought of that. I knew I had been in the battle of my life. But why? Why would someone lie? Why would someone hide the truth?
The adversary was raging this war. This war that had to be fought head to head just me and him. I had come too close to our Savior and witnessed too many miracles to have help when I so desperately needed it. If the adversary could take me mentally with thoughts of -no one loving me, then he ultimately wins. So I couldn't let him defeat me in his last ditch effort to take me down.
All of a sudden I felt my fight come back. The clouds somewhat cleared enough for me to see with my premortal eyes and know that crushing him was the only option. Giving in is something I would never do. The circumstances may not change. It may be a fight I must face alone, but I am determined to win this one. Absolutely positive.
I received a priesthood blessing from my beloved husband. He laid his hands on my head and offered a beautiful blessing. In it, I was promised protection. Protection from the horrible medication reaction. I breathed a deep breath thinking my living hell would ease and come to an end.
The overwhelming and all encompassing peace that I am used to, didn't come. I beat myself up wondering how and when I had lost my faith and my ability to receive such blessings from my Savior. I again questioned what was wrong with me.
The world became darker and my glimmer of hope for anyone or anything to pull me out faded. I knew I was alone. All alone.
When I thought the literal gates of hell would swallow me up with the sheer misery my heart encountered, the Savior sent help in the form of the bishopric. When they came, I was hurt and angry and didn't want to go to the door. However, Thomas didn't give up as he knew it was what I needed.
When they started discussing Hayden's upcoming Trek, I again found myself telling the Savior that they must have felt inspired to come but were missing what was so needed at this minute. But how do I bring it up and what would they do if I did?
As we talked, I remained hard and cold and calm. I participated in the discussion to the point I had to, and tried to hold it together for Hayden's sake. Then, the question came, "How are you doing?" I tried with all my might to push down the flood of emotions that were ready to break the dam. No such luck.
I explained my anger of the Mayo doctor that lied to us to protect his ego. I talked of all I had lost from his decision. I explained that it took months and years to get medical help because I was labeled anxious. That during the four additional years that it took to get the diagnosis, that my illness has progressed and deteriorated to a point that doctors have no hope of curing me, but are trying to buy me time. No hope of a cure. No hope of the life I was knew. I was forever changed and so was Thomas and Hayden's lives. It wasn't fair. And most of all, I sobbed for all the relationships that suffered and disappeared because I didn't have a diagnosis that they understood. I had lost family, friends, our home, my health, my independence, my freedom, our finances, our lifestyle, our ability to go places and our ability to live a normal life. Because of one man's agency to choose his ego over the truth, my life was in shambles.
The bishop took a deep breath unsure of where to begin. But the first counselor stepped in. He told me he hasn't known me long and vocalized the respect he has for me, the inspiration I am to so many and the way that those around me truly see me. He told me that he would have stopped fighting over five years ago, if in my shoes.
He then said something that struck a cord, a ray of hope. He talked of how he admired that no matter how much Satan fought me and threw absolutely all he could at me, I never faultered but found a blessing in each trial and a fortitude for greater strength in my battles with him. He discussed how the adversary had used every technique possible to destroy me. He tried to kill my mortal body in order to break my spirit. He talked of the great faith I have because I know that I have fought satan head to head and come out victorious.
He then said what I needed to hear.... "After all the battles that have been raged against you and all the fights you have won. Why would you let him get in your head now and try to destoy you mentally?"
I hadn't thought of that. I knew I had been in the battle of my life. But why? Why would someone lie? Why would someone hide the truth?
The adversary was raging this war. This war that had to be fought head to head just me and him. I had come too close to our Savior and witnessed too many miracles to have help when I so desperately needed it. If the adversary could take me mentally with thoughts of -no one loving me, then he ultimately wins. So I couldn't let him defeat me in his last ditch effort to take me down.
All of a sudden I felt my fight come back. The clouds somewhat cleared enough for me to see with my premortal eyes and know that crushing him was the only option. Giving in is something I would never do. The circumstances may not change. It may be a fight I must face alone, but I am determined to win this one. Absolutely positive.
EEG Testing and my downward spiral (part 1)
I came home to testing. Lots and lots of testing. The first was an ambulatory EEG test that required leads all over my head and looking like I just had brain surgery along with an EKG hooked to my heart so they could monitor my seizures and heart rates.
A couple of hours in and I had a migraine. Massive migraine. It hurt. Then came the struggle to swallow and the breathing issues. So much so that even after a blessing, my breathing didn't come with any ease. I was panicking and headed into a panic attack....a huge one. Thomas loaded me and all my equipment into the car and headed for ER. I figured in my get up that I would certainly get back right away. Not so lucky. I waited as my breathing continued to get worse and worse and worse. I went to leave ER and they stopped me. But what do I do? I desperately needed oxygen. The monitor may say 97% but my toes and feet were purple from no oxygen.
They finally moved me into the ER next to the doctor station. An ER doctor saw me and my struggle to breathe and grabbed me. He said he requested me because he had never seen anyone looking so weird walking into the ER. He wanted to know what they were doing to me and why. He came in before any nurse or LPN. He listened. He wanted to know my history. I just wanted oxygen.
He tried to give me steroids and benadryl. I told him I already took three doses and had been for days. He stopped two medications and questioned the EEG machine. However, It took hours to get the IV in. After blowing multiple IV lines, they finally secured one in my inside wrist. Wowzers did that hurt. As they tried to pull blood, it collapsed. Then they started one in between my two fingers, the pinky and ring finger. OUCH! Too bad that the blood coming out would clot before they could get it out. No blood work for me. The doctor finally told them to start giving me shots as IV lines were failing. Finally a PIC team got one in between my fingers to hold for meds but nothing else. Massive doses of steroids and benadryl later and I could swallow and breathe.
I headed home unsure what to do. And still miserable.
Saturday the results were the same, migraines, struggle to breathe, unable to swallow and frustrating pain. Indescribable pain. How can an EEG hurt? I have had so many?? Yet the pain and aching is so intense.
By Sunday morning, I could no longer endure the pain of it all. I was absolutely miserable...As we took off the EEG, we found out why. My face had burns from the EEG being too tight and allergic to the gel. Burns that scabbed over and scarred. Then when Thomas unwrapped my head, blood. I was bleeding and skin ripped off. Oh the pain. The raw skin with the shampoo. Ouch doesn't describe the incredible pain.
Now, I was dealing with pain from the after math of the EEG and withdrawals of the heart and brain medications. Oh was it one hell of a week as my body went through withdrawals of hard anti-seizure meds and medications that keep my heart ticking correctly. They also stopped the paralysis medications which increased the side effects of paralysis.... more struggling to breathe. The viscous circle had begun... which thru me into a huge flare.... which made all of the symptoms worse.... which made me feel more and more horrific.
The perfect storm had started and I had to ride it out. No short cuts.... nothing to ease my pain..... nothing to stop the flare....no help.....no relief....no breaks ....which in turn created no sleep....no rest... sheer hell was all I could use to describe the horribly down-slide I was in. How to stop it? How to get help? How to find relief from the doom?
I was hoping for days but weeks continued at this pace... more anxiety from withdrawals from medications... more nausea.... more vomiting cause my medications wouldn't stay down. More struggles and more pain than I can describe. My body would shake with revolt. My head pounded. My arms shook. My legs became restless. (I wondered why anyone would ever do drugs if this is the down and withdrawal...simply stupidity. This was worse than any pain I could imagine.) I was withdrawing from seizure medications and brain medications and heart medications and medications to ease the paralysis... not anything I could do about it. Nothing taken for fun or by my choice.
My days continued to grow dimmer by the minute. I struggled to find a moment of peace. I struggled to get air. I struggled to find hope. I struggled to find anything or any reason to continue fighting. I wanted to give up. I wanted this fight to be over. I wanted to throw in the towel and say that I had given my all and there was nothing left. I had no hope.
What happens when we find ourselves that far down and that utterly done with life? The adversary steps in. He takes hold of what is left and tries to turn it against you. He tries to throw those fiery darts that are discussed in the scriptures, and pierce you to the very core. I felt on top of the struggles I was facing that the adversary and all evilness itself had determine to plague me with even more discouragement and pain and nothingness.
With the medication changes making me crazy and not knowing what was real, the adversary convinced me that I was not loved nor lovable by anyone outside of Thomas and Hayden. I was convinced that no one would care if I was never seen from or heard from again. Convinced that the only two even at my funeral would be my dear Thomas and beloved Hayden.
Then events happened that would seal that in my mind. Loved ones that I trusted felt distance. My church that had been such a strength was too busy for me. Those that I had just entrusted to help me and turn to, informed me they were too busy.
I was sitting here wondering if I died, if anyone would even pause their lives for a moment to help comfort Thomas and Hayden. I was convinced I didn't matter but was holding out hope that my precious husband and cherished son did matter to them.
Yet, at every turn that I reached out, doors were slammed closed. So much so that I didn't trust anyone or anything, even my own thoughts. I was in the deepest of all despairs. I was beyond rock bottom.
I cancelled all doctors appointments. I cancelled all activities. I cancelled all testing. I cancelled all treatments. I quit trying. I quit living. I was just enduring and pleading for it all to end, one way or another.
I could never do anything to hurt Thomas and Hayden. Absolutely nothing. I never would. I want them to have all the love and peace and joy the world has to offer.
So I simply held on as tight as I could. I would plead for help. For the Savior himself to come lift me or for him to send help from anyone in any way. I laid in bed pleading for someone to come to the door. I rocked on the couch, asking the Savior if anyone in this entire world cared, for them to show up at the door. I plead for all those that have brought in meals and dropped by and done so much for me in the past, to just come. To show me in some small way that I still mattered. that my life was worth living. That I wasn't entirely alone and unloved.
I prayed for the bishop or anyone in the ward to show up... I would have welcomed a complete stranger. Yet help and peace and hope and love did not come. Only pain....deep, deep rooted terrible pain and loneliness.
I started to wonder if this is all I had left. The three of us and it would be us vs the world and us vs the dark one himself. I knew I couldn't do it alone. I knew I was in way over my head. I knew that if my situation didn't change quickly that my finger tips were slipping and I was fading. I knew without divine intervention or our Savior sending someone, somewhere to my rescue that it would be too late.
I wondered if I should bail out of the boat before I took out Hayden and Thomas with me. I sat up all night long pleading for relief or if no one cared and help and easing my misery was not possible then please... simply let me die.
And still another several days passed as I slipped deeper and deeper into a despair and dark place that put so much pressure of my heart that I could barely breathe. I knew I had never been this low, in such a dark place and so utterly frightened and scared to death. Isolation and complete utterly lost........is this how my story and my fight for life for so many years would end?
I couldn't bear the thought of this life....so I pleaded and prayed that sleep would overcome me. Restless sleep came and I was grateful for even the small moments of relief.
A couple of hours in and I had a migraine. Massive migraine. It hurt. Then came the struggle to swallow and the breathing issues. So much so that even after a blessing, my breathing didn't come with any ease. I was panicking and headed into a panic attack....a huge one. Thomas loaded me and all my equipment into the car and headed for ER. I figured in my get up that I would certainly get back right away. Not so lucky. I waited as my breathing continued to get worse and worse and worse. I went to leave ER and they stopped me. But what do I do? I desperately needed oxygen. The monitor may say 97% but my toes and feet were purple from no oxygen.
They finally moved me into the ER next to the doctor station. An ER doctor saw me and my struggle to breathe and grabbed me. He said he requested me because he had never seen anyone looking so weird walking into the ER. He wanted to know what they were doing to me and why. He came in before any nurse or LPN. He listened. He wanted to know my history. I just wanted oxygen.
He tried to give me steroids and benadryl. I told him I already took three doses and had been for days. He stopped two medications and questioned the EEG machine. However, It took hours to get the IV in. After blowing multiple IV lines, they finally secured one in my inside wrist. Wowzers did that hurt. As they tried to pull blood, it collapsed. Then they started one in between my two fingers, the pinky and ring finger. OUCH! Too bad that the blood coming out would clot before they could get it out. No blood work for me. The doctor finally told them to start giving me shots as IV lines were failing. Finally a PIC team got one in between my fingers to hold for meds but nothing else. Massive doses of steroids and benadryl later and I could swallow and breathe.
I headed home unsure what to do. And still miserable.
Saturday the results were the same, migraines, struggle to breathe, unable to swallow and frustrating pain. Indescribable pain. How can an EEG hurt? I have had so many?? Yet the pain and aching is so intense.
By Sunday morning, I could no longer endure the pain of it all. I was absolutely miserable...As we took off the EEG, we found out why. My face had burns from the EEG being too tight and allergic to the gel. Burns that scabbed over and scarred. Then when Thomas unwrapped my head, blood. I was bleeding and skin ripped off. Oh the pain. The raw skin with the shampoo. Ouch doesn't describe the incredible pain.
Now, I was dealing with pain from the after math of the EEG and withdrawals of the heart and brain medications. Oh was it one hell of a week as my body went through withdrawals of hard anti-seizure meds and medications that keep my heart ticking correctly. They also stopped the paralysis medications which increased the side effects of paralysis.... more struggling to breathe. The viscous circle had begun... which thru me into a huge flare.... which made all of the symptoms worse.... which made me feel more and more horrific.
The perfect storm had started and I had to ride it out. No short cuts.... nothing to ease my pain..... nothing to stop the flare....no help.....no relief....no breaks ....which in turn created no sleep....no rest... sheer hell was all I could use to describe the horribly down-slide I was in. How to stop it? How to get help? How to find relief from the doom?
My days continued to grow dimmer by the minute. I struggled to find a moment of peace. I struggled to get air. I struggled to find hope. I struggled to find anything or any reason to continue fighting. I wanted to give up. I wanted this fight to be over. I wanted to throw in the towel and say that I had given my all and there was nothing left. I had no hope.
With the medication changes making me crazy and not knowing what was real, the adversary convinced me that I was not loved nor lovable by anyone outside of Thomas and Hayden. I was convinced that no one would care if I was never seen from or heard from again. Convinced that the only two even at my funeral would be my dear Thomas and beloved Hayden.
Then events happened that would seal that in my mind. Loved ones that I trusted felt distance. My church that had been such a strength was too busy for me. Those that I had just entrusted to help me and turn to, informed me they were too busy.
I was sitting here wondering if I died, if anyone would even pause their lives for a moment to help comfort Thomas and Hayden. I was convinced I didn't matter but was holding out hope that my precious husband and cherished son did matter to them.
Yet, at every turn that I reached out, doors were slammed closed. So much so that I didn't trust anyone or anything, even my own thoughts. I was in the deepest of all despairs. I was beyond rock bottom.
I cancelled all doctors appointments. I cancelled all activities. I cancelled all testing. I cancelled all treatments. I quit trying. I quit living. I was just enduring and pleading for it all to end, one way or another.
I could never do anything to hurt Thomas and Hayden. Absolutely nothing. I never would. I want them to have all the love and peace and joy the world has to offer.
So I simply held on as tight as I could. I would plead for help. For the Savior himself to come lift me or for him to send help from anyone in any way. I laid in bed pleading for someone to come to the door. I rocked on the couch, asking the Savior if anyone in this entire world cared, for them to show up at the door. I plead for all those that have brought in meals and dropped by and done so much for me in the past, to just come. To show me in some small way that I still mattered. that my life was worth living. That I wasn't entirely alone and unloved.
I prayed for the bishop or anyone in the ward to show up... I would have welcomed a complete stranger. Yet help and peace and hope and love did not come. Only pain....deep, deep rooted terrible pain and loneliness.
I started to wonder if this is all I had left. The three of us and it would be us vs the world and us vs the dark one himself. I knew I couldn't do it alone. I knew I was in way over my head. I knew that if my situation didn't change quickly that my finger tips were slipping and I was fading. I knew without divine intervention or our Savior sending someone, somewhere to my rescue that it would be too late.
I wondered if I should bail out of the boat before I took out Hayden and Thomas with me. I sat up all night long pleading for relief or if no one cared and help and easing my misery was not possible then please... simply let me die.
And still another several days passed as I slipped deeper and deeper into a despair and dark place that put so much pressure of my heart that I could barely breathe. I knew I had never been this low, in such a dark place and so utterly frightened and scared to death. Isolation and complete utterly lost........is this how my story and my fight for life for so many years would end?
I couldn't bear the thought of this life....so I pleaded and prayed that sleep would overcome me. Restless sleep came and I was grateful for even the small moments of relief.
Frightening Call
My Dad scared me to death.
Last week, I received a phone call from Jake telling me that he and Josh were headed to the hospital. Dad had been through surgery and wasn't doing okay. He had been in a surgical center and was being sent to the hospital via ambulance because of heart issues.
I asked Jake if he was breathing, ok or what was going on? Jake didn't know. He only received a panic call from Bonnie explaining that he was not breathing and his heart was having complications.
My heart sunk. It almost literally stopped. Tears fell from my face. I knew I needed to get there asap.
Luckily it was Wednesday, chemo day and Julie had stopped by with Brody so he could hang out with Hayden and Julie was going to check on me. She hadn't been here long, when the call came in. I was so grateful she was here and willing to drop me off at the hospital and take Hayden and Brody to dinner to distract Hayden.
The ride to the hospital took forever. I called Thomas and asked him to meet me there and let Jodi know what was happening.
Back in November, at my dad's birthday party, I mentioned that he didn't look right, that something looked physically wrong. But the thing that really made me think there was a problem was my Dad started talking like he was dying. I commented to others, but only me and Robert (Etherington) picked it up. We were both convinced, as both of us have asked ourselves the same questions when we came close to our own loss or mortality. There was just something different and off. His activity level was also incredibly low, especially on the cruise. I again commented that something wasn't right with Dad but everyone just brushed it off as a cold or particularly hard day. Yet, something nagged at me and I felt he wouldn't be with us much longer.
When I arrived at the hospital, Bonnie's children were in the hospital waiting room. Bonnie was with my dad. Thomas showed up right as I was dropped off and walked in with me and Jake and Josh only arrived a few moments before me. I took a deep breath as I opened the curtain and walked in. My heart dropped. He looked awful and was in terrible amounts of pain. His stats were all over the place. His heart was fluctuating between 40-170 and his blood pressure was sky high, especially since he has super low blood pressure normally. The pain medications were not cutting the pain and he was miserable while he awaited his next dose.
I talked to him, but he did not want to be hugged. I listened to what had happened. The surgery was much more involved and complicated than originally planned. As my Dad came out of surgery, he was jerking and seizing. The doctor took full responsibility and said he shouldn't have done so many things in one surgery. The began bleeding soon after and was rushed back in to the surgical room to stop the bleeding. His pain was out of control and his heart was crazy so he was rushed to the hospital.
We discussed my genetic disposition to burning through pain medications so quickly that they are completely out of my system in a quarter of the time of the average human. He said that wasn't good and he wanted someone to ease the pain somehow. I watched as he suffered so much and was so miserable. My strong dad that never shows any emotion, whatsoever, at all, was upset. My heart broke for him.
As we talked, his heart would jump around as he talked and moved. I knew the best thing for him was less people and less interruptions. Sleep was the only thing that would work. I hugged him gently after we visited for a couple of hours and prayed he would get sleep.
The way home was prayers of gratitude and prayers for him to find comfort and relief. Prayers for his recovery. Prayers that this would not be the last time I saw him.
It has been almost 29 years since the dreaded day that my mom passed away. The thought of losing my dad, simply heartbreaking. I knew I was definitely not ready to say goodbye. But was grateful for those promptings and warnings that I felt for the past several months. Because of it, I have said what I want to say, told my dad how I feel and how truly grateful I am for his love, sacrifice and things he has taught me. I am glad I hadn't left anything unsaid.
I know our dear Savior loves us and answers prayers. My prayer was our dear Savior would continue to keep his loving arms around my dad and keep him safe. I held Thomas and Hayden both a little closer that night. Nothing like a good dose of mortality to help you truly see what life is about.
Last week, I received a phone call from Jake telling me that he and Josh were headed to the hospital. Dad had been through surgery and wasn't doing okay. He had been in a surgical center and was being sent to the hospital via ambulance because of heart issues.
I asked Jake if he was breathing, ok or what was going on? Jake didn't know. He only received a panic call from Bonnie explaining that he was not breathing and his heart was having complications.
My heart sunk. It almost literally stopped. Tears fell from my face. I knew I needed to get there asap.
Luckily it was Wednesday, chemo day and Julie had stopped by with Brody so he could hang out with Hayden and Julie was going to check on me. She hadn't been here long, when the call came in. I was so grateful she was here and willing to drop me off at the hospital and take Hayden and Brody to dinner to distract Hayden.
The ride to the hospital took forever. I called Thomas and asked him to meet me there and let Jodi know what was happening.
Back in November, at my dad's birthday party, I mentioned that he didn't look right, that something looked physically wrong. But the thing that really made me think there was a problem was my Dad started talking like he was dying. I commented to others, but only me and Robert (Etherington) picked it up. We were both convinced, as both of us have asked ourselves the same questions when we came close to our own loss or mortality. There was just something different and off. His activity level was also incredibly low, especially on the cruise. I again commented that something wasn't right with Dad but everyone just brushed it off as a cold or particularly hard day. Yet, something nagged at me and I felt he wouldn't be with us much longer.
When I arrived at the hospital, Bonnie's children were in the hospital waiting room. Bonnie was with my dad. Thomas showed up right as I was dropped off and walked in with me and Jake and Josh only arrived a few moments before me. I took a deep breath as I opened the curtain and walked in. My heart dropped. He looked awful and was in terrible amounts of pain. His stats were all over the place. His heart was fluctuating between 40-170 and his blood pressure was sky high, especially since he has super low blood pressure normally. The pain medications were not cutting the pain and he was miserable while he awaited his next dose.
I talked to him, but he did not want to be hugged. I listened to what had happened. The surgery was much more involved and complicated than originally planned. As my Dad came out of surgery, he was jerking and seizing. The doctor took full responsibility and said he shouldn't have done so many things in one surgery. The began bleeding soon after and was rushed back in to the surgical room to stop the bleeding. His pain was out of control and his heart was crazy so he was rushed to the hospital.
We discussed my genetic disposition to burning through pain medications so quickly that they are completely out of my system in a quarter of the time of the average human. He said that wasn't good and he wanted someone to ease the pain somehow. I watched as he suffered so much and was so miserable. My strong dad that never shows any emotion, whatsoever, at all, was upset. My heart broke for him.
As we talked, his heart would jump around as he talked and moved. I knew the best thing for him was less people and less interruptions. Sleep was the only thing that would work. I hugged him gently after we visited for a couple of hours and prayed he would get sleep.
The way home was prayers of gratitude and prayers for him to find comfort and relief. Prayers for his recovery. Prayers that this would not be the last time I saw him.
It has been almost 29 years since the dreaded day that my mom passed away. The thought of losing my dad, simply heartbreaking. I knew I was definitely not ready to say goodbye. But was grateful for those promptings and warnings that I felt for the past several months. Because of it, I have said what I want to say, told my dad how I feel and how truly grateful I am for his love, sacrifice and things he has taught me. I am glad I hadn't left anything unsaid.
I know our dear Savior loves us and answers prayers. My prayer was our dear Savior would continue to keep his loving arms around my dad and keep him safe. I held Thomas and Hayden both a little closer that night. Nothing like a good dose of mortality to help you truly see what life is about.
Monday, April 4, 2016
Happy Birthday Puppies
Olivia turned one, Maya turned two and Maxwell turned 3 years old.
Suzi felt a birthday party was in order. So with peanut butter and yogurt dog muffins in hand, we sang to the puppies and let them go to town on treats. I am not sure who is crazier.... the three puppies or Aunt Suzi. Poor Max and Maya...it was their first birthday party. I sure love my puppies but I only spoil with love and attention. Suzi is such a perfect spoiler that she spoils in every way possible. Hence she is the funnest aunt and most loved. I am guessing the dogs agree, as well.
Headed Home
I'm going home... home... to my safe place, my comfort, my place of joy and home of love. No matter how much I love a vacation, I love the feel of going home. There is something about the safety of home...the comforts of home...my own bed....my own place...my place of joy...my peaceful retreat.
I loved every minute with all my extended family. I loved the moments that I will cling to and hold in my heart and cherish. I will always treasure this special time of bonding and unity and love.
But, my body was worn out. I was exhausted and tired and ready for calm and quiet and just laying in bed for days. No where to go... no where to be....back to my routine and my life.
I felt melancholy. Sad it was over. So very grateful it happened.
Jodi's crazy kiddos. Those faces. I will miss them dearly each and every day. I will miss the hugs....I will miss the smiles... I will miss hearing their voices and seeing smiles stretched across their faces.
Then I again am reminded of all I have, all I have been given and all that I am blessed to call mine.
On the second leg of the flight, I was exhausted. I had given my all and then a million times more. Even with my limited vacation, I had nothing left. I was so tired. I told Thomas at take off the I wasn't sure how I could keep going. He reassured me that I would have heavenly help. As the plane ride continued, I started to feel off. But what could I do?? We were flying. I leaned my head on Thomas' shoulder. I buried my head into him tightly. I could feel the seizure begin. I fought it like crazy, pleading for relief and it to stop. The anxiety kicked in and within a few short moments, I was in a full on seizure. Thomas said I was jerking everywhere and he was trying to hold me tight to minimize others seeing, especially my precious nieces and nephews. Thomas gave me a silent blessing as the seizure escalated. luckily, I think only Jake and Rosie saw the jerking and seizing. The seizure dissipated, as do most. I was exhausted and cried and cried after. Of course, that one had to hit the frontal lobe and the emotion center. I am so grateful for my husband and his protection of me. He quietly did what needed to be done. He took care of me. I am truly grateful for him and that the seizure wasn't any worse than it was.
As we arrived in the Phoenix airport, I couldn't leave without hugging each of these amazing siblings one more time. I wished JD was there for one more hug. One more moment that we were all again together. These people mean so much to me. I am so proud of who they are, who they have become and how they live their lives. I will look forward to the next time I get to be in their presence. And I will hold tight in my heart all the magical and precious moments we made. I love you all. Josh, Jake, JD and Jodi...thank you for being apart of my life. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for all you do to make my life better. I couldn't ask for better siblings. I am grateful for each of you. In this moment, I bet my mom was looking down and wrapping her arms around us all. Reassuring us that we are still her precious children. Still loved, still important and still cherished by her. I looked over my shoulder and almost could hug my mom goodbye. She cherished these moments ever bit as much as I did. I took one last look back and then looked forward. Thomas and Hayden were there. Thomas held his hand out. He knew what I was feeling without words. And I knew that what I really wanted was to head home with him.
Peace out Simonton Caribbean vacation. The trip will go down in the books as one of my most precious weeks ever. I will hold onto the memories forever.
I loved every minute with all my extended family. I loved the moments that I will cling to and hold in my heart and cherish. I will always treasure this special time of bonding and unity and love.
But, my body was worn out. I was exhausted and tired and ready for calm and quiet and just laying in bed for days. No where to go... no where to be....back to my routine and my life.
I felt melancholy. Sad it was over. So very grateful it happened.
On the second leg of the flight, I was exhausted. I had given my all and then a million times more. Even with my limited vacation, I had nothing left. I was so tired. I told Thomas at take off the I wasn't sure how I could keep going. He reassured me that I would have heavenly help. As the plane ride continued, I started to feel off. But what could I do?? We were flying. I leaned my head on Thomas' shoulder. I buried my head into him tightly. I could feel the seizure begin. I fought it like crazy, pleading for relief and it to stop. The anxiety kicked in and within a few short moments, I was in a full on seizure. Thomas said I was jerking everywhere and he was trying to hold me tight to minimize others seeing, especially my precious nieces and nephews. Thomas gave me a silent blessing as the seizure escalated. luckily, I think only Jake and Rosie saw the jerking and seizing. The seizure dissipated, as do most. I was exhausted and cried and cried after. Of course, that one had to hit the frontal lobe and the emotion center. I am so grateful for my husband and his protection of me. He quietly did what needed to be done. He took care of me. I am truly grateful for him and that the seizure wasn't any worse than it was.
Peace out Simonton Caribbean vacation. The trip will go down in the books as one of my most precious weeks ever. I will hold onto the memories forever.
Fort Lauderdale
What a perfect ending to a perfect vacation. Fort Lauderdale was simply amazing. After hanging out in Central Park on the ship with JD and Jodi's families, we departed the ship. Having three wheelchairs and a stroller, gets you through the line quickly. And we were off as fast as we boarded, with a week full of memories filed safely in our long term memory.
While on board, our family grew closer. We grew closer as individual families and as siblings and aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews and grandparents. I will always cherish some of those moments, one on one with different loved ones. I cherish the time with my sister and siblings and will always be grateful Thomas and Hayden and I could experience it together.
In Fort Lauderdale, Jake found an amazing hotel. It is the most beautiful I have ever stayed in. Jodi's family and ours shared a room or suite. It had a huge master bedroom with two queen beds, massive shower and bathtub and closets and the main room had a kitchen and pull out bed. Best part was the amazing balcony overlooking the ocean. Simply beautiful with an amazing breeze.
Before we could get into the hotel, we were able to go relax on the beach. We rented a huge umbrella, lounge chair and I curled up and took a nap, while listening to the beautiful sound of waves crashing as they rolled in. I love the sound of the waves. It resets my heart. It makes me feel alive and free. It is heaven on earth. I slept sound and peaceably, soaking in each moment of sure relaxation heaven.
Jake awoke me to go to get some amazing Italian food that was featured on some food network. It was delicious. We had the most amazing straw sandwiches and Hayden had huge slices of pizza. Thomas went back for dinner and picked up take out and their lasagna was just as yummy. Boy, I am craving it now. Delicious. As good as Italy's.
The boys couldn't get enough of the beach. Sand, waves, games, fun, and sheer heaven. We are definitely a beach family and feel our best when hearing the ocean waves. I really want beach front property in heaven. It makes my heart sing.
Hayden loved every minute of the sand and surf. He was born to live at the beach like his momma. Sheer joy abounded with the three of us. Oh how I could live there.
We had an umbrella and lounge set up just like Steph and Austin with Brinley. It was divine.
Of course the cousins were soaking in every last minute of their time together. And below is Hayden's absolutely delicious. Plus fun to go with Jake and Jodi's families. So incredibly wonderful!
The hardest part about Fort Lauderdale is saying goodbye to my baby brother, JD and his family. I love him. I enjoyed spending the week with JD, Cassie, Bryson, Coby, Tanner and Ashlyn. We hate that they live so far away. Minnesota is a long way from Arizona. It feels even farther away when we do not get to visit them as often as we like. And when they come to Arizona, it is crazy for them, as all their family lives here.
I cried saying goodbye. I love us all being together. I am grateful for the memories we made, the moments shared, the love we do have for one another, and grateful that we will see them again in July. I know it is hard on them being the only ones away from the rest of our group. I hope JD and his family know that at every family event, we wish they were with us. We miss them more than they realize and there is a definite piece missing when they are not with us.
We love you, JD! We are so grateful for our time with you. I hope you know how very much you are loved!
And just like that.... our vacation came to a close. The memories were amazing. The trip a once in a lifetime. The best part.... memories and hope and love and joy to hold on to when the world gets rocky and rough and the storms of life try to take us down. We have wonderful memories to hold tight to. We have knowledge that we love one another and would do anything for one another. And even more that those ties will go with us beyond the grave. Wherever we may find ourselves in this life, whatever differing roads we may travel, and what ever circumstances will come, the love is there, and we do cheer one another on. And someday, after this life is through, we will be able to visit each other more often and never again have to say the hard goodbyes.
While on board, our family grew closer. We grew closer as individual families and as siblings and aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews and grandparents. I will always cherish some of those moments, one on one with different loved ones. I cherish the time with my sister and siblings and will always be grateful Thomas and Hayden and I could experience it together.
Before we could get into the hotel, we were able to go relax on the beach. We rented a huge umbrella, lounge chair and I curled up and took a nap, while listening to the beautiful sound of waves crashing as they rolled in. I love the sound of the waves. It resets my heart. It makes me feel alive and free. It is heaven on earth. I slept sound and peaceably, soaking in each moment of sure relaxation heaven.
Jake awoke me to go to get some amazing Italian food that was featured on some food network. It was delicious. We had the most amazing straw sandwiches and Hayden had huge slices of pizza. Thomas went back for dinner and picked up take out and their lasagna was just as yummy. Boy, I am craving it now. Delicious. As good as Italy's.
The boys couldn't get enough of the beach. Sand, waves, games, fun, and sheer heaven. We are definitely a beach family and feel our best when hearing the ocean waves. I really want beach front property in heaven. It makes my heart sing.
The hardest part about Fort Lauderdale is saying goodbye to my baby brother, JD and his family. I love him. I enjoyed spending the week with JD, Cassie, Bryson, Coby, Tanner and Ashlyn. We hate that they live so far away. Minnesota is a long way from Arizona. It feels even farther away when we do not get to visit them as often as we like. And when they come to Arizona, it is crazy for them, as all their family lives here.
I cried saying goodbye. I love us all being together. I am grateful for the memories we made, the moments shared, the love we do have for one another, and grateful that we will see them again in July. I know it is hard on them being the only ones away from the rest of our group. I hope JD and his family know that at every family event, we wish they were with us. We miss them more than they realize and there is a definite piece missing when they are not with us.
We love you, JD! We are so grateful for our time with you. I hope you know how very much you are loved!
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