Pneumonia

Last week, I actually felt pretty good for me. Lisa made breakfast and had our family over for Sunday brunch and a game of Mexican Train before church. As I sat there we laughed and had a wonderful time. I thought how nice it feels to just feel normal. About noon, I told Thomas we needed to go. I thought I better take a quick nap before church. I was excited to be able to partake of the Sacrament and renew my covenants with my Father in Heaven. I wanted to feel the Spirit testify to me of the testify of this cherished gospel. 

I came home and crashed. Thomas woke me up and oh how I struggled to get out of bed. I felt weighted by bricks. Each breath and each movements was excruciatingly painful. However, I was determined to go. I kept thinking I could just push through it. After all, I had felt good only a few hours ago. 

I pushed and looked awful but went to church. During the Sacrament, I prayed for healing, help to breathe bad less exhaustion. Chills abounded, bricks lined my chest and I started to burn up. Luckily I had socks and a jacket in my purse. The talks could not end soon enough. 

I struggled to understand what people said to me. All a vague whirlwind as I tried to figure out what was happening to me. I told Thomas to hold onto me and get me home quickly. 

As Thomas helped me into bed, I told him something was terribly wrong. But how? Wasn't I fine just a few short hours ago? How could I possibly gotten sick so quickly? I crashed. Hard. When Thomas came back from church, there I was, still crashed. I couldn't even get to the couch. 

For the next two days, I lay in bed. Only bathroom breaks saw me leave the bed. I struggled for each and every breath. My fever raged. I felt downright awful. 

By Tuesday, I could hardly move. I knew I had to see a dr. But how could I walk out to the car and I to the dr office, much less get ready and get dressed. Thomas called his mom to come get me. She came in as I was still on my bed trying to will this body of mine to move. 

Somehow I managed to get up and brush my teeth. Not sure if anything else got done. I hobbled to the car and struggled for each breath. Of course, the dr needed more info. Feeling out paperwork was awful and energy zapping. I then made my way to the back office. Luckily, these drs know me and are so great for me. 

He listened to my lungs and panicked. "No movement whatsoever. Completely filled lungs. Pneumonia. Bronchitis. Sinus infection. No movement. Stagnant. Trouble. Hospital. Scared. Inflamed. Incredibly sick." I was trying to make sense of the jumbled words coming out of his mouth. 

He picked up his phone, ready to call an ambulance. I objected and gently reminded him of my dr do not admit order from Mayo. 

He gave me 24 hours before admitting me. He needed to hear some movement.  So he administered breathing treatments. Shots.  Antibiotic. Steroids. Cough syrup with codeine. 

The breathing treatment helped a little. Air movement. I struggled back to the car and Walgreens really wishing Thomas was home. Hurting. Miserable. Exhausted. 

I hit the bed and crashed. I don't remember much besides horrific pain, struggling to take a breath, and hurting for the next several days. I laid in bed and struggled and plead with my Father in. Heaven for relief. When I could no longer stand the pain, my Savior would have mercy in me and slumber would come. Although a majority of the time I just pushed thru. 

Poor Hayden. For days he raised himself until his dad got home. Luckily, he had a friend come over and the two played video games nonstop. I didn't care. I was grateful he was ok and having fun. 

It felt the pneumonia was winning. The medications were not working. I folded with defeated and admitted I needed to be hospitalized, as they had wanted to do days previously. Instead, my husband again placed his loving hands on my head. As he did, the coughing gently subsided. I took a breath and felt air fill my lungs. I nestled into my husband's loving hands and waited anxiously for the words of my Father in Heaven for guidance, strength, comfort and help. 

As always, I felt wrapped in my Savior's love. I knew I was. His beloved daughter. He knew me, jerkyn. Her knew my pain. He knew my struggle. He knew how hard this trial has been on me. He loved me. He believed in me. Most of all,  he was protecting me. Sending angels to buoy me up. Sending heavenly angels to administer unto me. And  he, as always, was protecting me and sparing my life. 

As hands were removed from my head, I found the inner strength, which was just strengthened by my Father in Heaven, my Heavenly Dad, so that I could continue to endure the illness within my body. 

Sleep came. I coughed but slept during it. The next days were rough and painful. I struggled to break the infection. I struggled to breathe. I laid in bed. I rested. I slept. I drank apple juice. I read. 

Healing has started to come. It's been almost two weeks. 

The illness will fade into the background. My body will move on to fight the next bug that attacks my weakened and almost non-existent immune system. I will forget that I ever had pneumonia. But I will never forget the way my Father in Heaven reminded me that he is my Dad. He loves me even more than my earthly father. He loves me more than I am capable of loving Hayden. I am. His precious daughter. He will not leave me nor forsake me. Of Him, I bear solemn witness. He lives. He loves us. And He knows each of us personally. 

As I learned again just recently, when we turn our problems to our Father in Heaven, we are ao blessed. Our loads are lightened and our will and determination strengthened. We can find rest from the storms in His loving arms.