Candor

I think this post won't be uplifting. Well...maybe at the end it is. It's a post of facts and current events. 

I've had such a hard few days. I'm not being a pessimist here, but I know the next few days (like, ten?) will get gradually worse. As my month ends, I get more inflamed; my head also becomes alarmingly more disjointed. It's scary. But I survive every time; this time will be no different. The pattern has been so for a few years. 

Today was my weekly day "out." Here's what I did. 

-Doctor appointment...productive, but sobering and emotionally draining

-Bee venom injections in the back

-Bought, like, seven bottles of pills (have been running low or without)

-IVs: ozone, Myers, PK, glutathione

-Paid a boatload of money

-Zoned by my friend. She said my body is struggling way more than usual, especially my brain, liver, and duodenum (I can tell)

That's a lot of stuff for me, FYI. I'll get my antibiotic IV tonight. I have a few prescriptions to fill. 

This regimen is tough. To repeat it, twice as hard and with even more stuff, is burdensome. I'm starting to feel like death again. I'm going through the stages of grief again. I feel like I have the worst cold ever, but without drainage and hacking, and with gut and joint pain and a pained, foggy brain. There is lead in every muscle cell, so it's hard to move. 

It's just not a fun time. I think I knew this was coming, but last week was pretty good. I thought I'd dodged calamity. It's catching up to me more now. 

But there are things to look forward to:

-Reading Four by Veronica Roth

-Pajamas all day and all night

-The Cosby Show reruns on DVD

-Zoning out emotionally over the next few days. (I have to, or I'll crumble.)

-Out-of-state family coming into town 

Stuff I currently love:

-The assorted, fluorescent daisies my visiting teacher's preschool-aged daughter picked out for me that are still alive and drinking water after two or three weeks

-The framed "Choose Joy" picture that my Relief Society president gave me and is displayed by the flowers

-Leftovers from meals our thoughtful friend and our moms brought us

-The scriptures, books, Redbox, Netflix

-Submitting, accepting, and not fighting the way I feel

-Spring blossoms EVERYWHERE on the trees and in our flower garden

Things are ok. I'll just keep hanging on, I guess. 

The Most-Forgotten Commandment

"The Savior summarized the Ten Commandments in two principles—love for the Lord and love for our fellow men: 

"'Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself' (Matthew 22:37–39)."*

How many parties are involved? I count three: God, my neighbor, and myself. I guess loving myself is pretty important too (more on this later). 

With Jesus' "summary" in mind, read the Ten Commandments as listed in Exodus 20.

  1 Thou shalt have no other gods before me.

  2 Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image. 

  3 Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain. 

  4 Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy.

  5 Honour thy father and thy mother. 

  6 Thou shalt not kill.

  7 Thou shalt not commit adultery.

  8 Thou shalt not steal.

  9 Thou shalt not bear false witness.

10 Thou shalt not covet.

When the Ten Commandments were given, it was a BIG deal. "All the people saw the thunderings, and the lightnings, and the noise of the trumpet, and the mountain smoking: and when the people saw it, they removed, and stood afar off" (Exodus 20:18). 

We still live by these commandments today because they are "eternal gospel principles that are necessary for our exaltation."* For a brief read on each, I recommend the link down below for interesting insights (for example, honoring our father and mother includes honoring our Heavenly Parents). 

Let's get to that forgotten commandment. As you read through the list, were there any you glossed over because you're totally keeping it or don't know what it means? 

For me, and maybe for lots of us, it's the last one. Thou shalt not covet. Maybe we're too tired of reading commandments by the time we get to the last one, and we overlook it. 

I grew up thinking that coveting meant you wanted your neighbor's car, for example, SO badly that you acted on it and stole it. Coveting required jealousy toward other people plus an action. But actually, coveting is much simpler than all of this. 

Coveting is wanting something you don't have. 

The Bible refers to other people's property, but I submit that we covet more than that. We can be jealous and covet the person we want to be. Examples: we may want to be in a different financial situation, to be done with school already, to control our environment, to get a promotion at work, to secure lasting relationships that do not yet exist, or to have a different body. For me (among many things I'm sure), I wanted my health and vitality back so I could get the heck ON with my life and have that "quiver full" of children I always wanted, etc.

But if there is anything I've learned from the last few years, it's that we can't control everything...or maybe even anything. If we go on wishing for things or circumstances to be just the way we want them, we'll be miserable little people!

True to the Faith summarizes this idea so nicely. (I underlined for emphasis). 

"Coveting, or envying something that belongs to another, is damaging to the soul. It can consume our thoughts and plague us with constant unhappiness and dissatisfaction. It often leads to other sins and to financial indebtedness." *

Hmm. Other sins... Envy? Greed? Pride? Being controlling? Being unsatisfied? Wanting more? Thinking I know better than God? I've been there and done all that, people, and hopefully I'm growing out of it.

Sometimes childish statements grow up with us and become our anthems even though we're (mortal) adults already:

I want that toy. 

I want to win. 

I want to be first. 

I want to be bigger and stronger. 

I want to make me happy. 

I want things my way. 

I want it now. 

Perhaps learning not to covet helps us to extinguish some of the selfish childishness within us. (Jesus wants us to be child-LIKE. That's different.) 

Certainly, not coveting gives us more satisfaction, gratitude, maturity, and peace. We are happy with who we are when we do not covet. That helps us develop self-love I spoke of earlier. I'm still guilty of coveting sometimes, but NOT coveting helps me to think in a different way...maybe something like:

"I love the life God has given me. I love my two children. I love my limitations. I love the surprises in the form of lessons my Father is giving to me. I love how perfectly He tends to me and knows my needs better than I do. I love that He loves and trusts me enough to let me suffer so I can grow. I love the person I am today. I love basking the light of God's love."

We are all just children, and our loving Father loves us and knows what we need. If we are open to the gifts He has for us (many times disguised as challenges or trials), I think we recognize them easier and can love them sooner. The more I accept this, the happier I am. 

 

* Source: True to the Faith: "Ten Commandments," https://www.lds.org/topics/ten-commandments?lang=eng

Learning to Receive

I might say I was a powerful person, always on "the fast track," before illness set in. I was a great dancer and student; childbearing mother and homemaker; and then mother of two, AND full-time working nurse, AND part-time dancer, to top it off!

To go from being physically and mentally powerful to becoming mostly bed-bound was a slow decline. Over time, I have become more and more dependent on others for help. This has conflicted greatly with my personal, fast-track moral code. 

I read an article about learning to receive a long time ago. The biggest thing that hit me was to stop keeping score. There is no way to repay voluntary service that comes from the heart. It's too stressful to keep a tally and try to make up for it, even though it rips at me to accept that (I'll explain). I'm so far in the hole service-wise, that all I can do is show love whenever and however I can. And just so you know, I genuinely feel overwhelmed with gratitude with every gesture--every kind word, card, text, gift, hug, real look in the eyes--it's all internalized by me and warms my heart. Thank you. 

"We are all just walking each other home." I'm a wife, mom, nurse, big sister, and caregiver in so many ways, but maybe it's ok if I am helped along instead of helping others all the time. 

I had an interesting talk with my doctor about learning to receive. I was worried about my sweetheart--how he's both mom and dad in a lot of ways, and the sole provider, and my caregiver and sounding board in addition to being my husband. I expressed concern about all the weight on him and hoping it doesn't affect him negatively. 

A lot went into this conversation, but this is the part I want to share. 

My doctor asked me to think of our feelings. What were our hearts telling each other? 

His expressed joy and eagerness in being able to help me. Mine expressed gratitude, but also regret that I had put him in this position of working so hard without being able to help him. 

"Now put Jesus in his place," my doctor said. "Do you feel the same way?"

I embraced Jesus in my mind. We connected hearts. I had to think and feel for a moment before I answered. 

"I don't feel the same way," I said, "because He wants to help. He loves me and has already has done everything to help me; I just need to accept it. I would be rejecting Him and the gift of His Atonement to carry me if I didn't allow Him to help me."

The thought resonated in the air for a few seconds. 

"Do you think," my doctor quietly asked, "that maybe your husband, and some of the people who help you, have hearts like Jesus'?"

Boom. Clarity. 

Of course they do. 

Of course they do!

Why, in my pride, would I reject the gifts of others in my heart when they come from Christlike character, when they are His angels on earth? Why wouldn't I accept that? I tell myself I am not worthy of care and that I should be able to make it all on my own. That's a lie!

Receiving service allows us to receive the Savior and His gifts through the hands of His earthly angels. 

Giving service allows us to internalize the Savior's love for God's children by feeling His charity and giving it to others. 

We can't make out our own salvation. We are dependent, forever in debt to Jesus Christ. I believe He wants us to receive Him, and gifts from Him that are given to us in any way, even acts of charity from others. 

It is getting easier to receive because I see the Christlike hearts inside the people who reach out to me. I want to accept Jesus' love in whatever way He wants to give it. I am worthy of His care. 

And so are YOU. 

So many of you have especially reached out to me. I started a list, but got overwhelmed, and realized I was keeping tally again. 

Thank you so much for your Christlike hearts. I love you so much. 

My Second PICC Line

Got 'er done!

It was easy breezy, except when the line briefly took a wrong turn and headed toward my neck. I tucked my chin and told my vessels to guide it where it needed to go, and it did arrived in my superior vena cava (SVC) without much fuss.

This PICC line is in my dominant arm and will be sore for a few days like last time. I REALLY thought it would be cool to have two "eyeball" scars on the same arm, but the nurse insisted we give my left arm a break. I guess the eyeball scars will have to stare at each other from across the way. 

Once, the nurse told me I had great skin turgor. I told her, "Thank you! I've always prided myself on my turgor." (It's the best and oddest compliment I've received in awhile. I liked it. We laughed. :)

My husband got to assist. He was very capable and was even (jokingly) offered a job on the spot by the nurse who placed this PICC. She is the department manager and has the right to do that sort of thing!

My prizes at the end (besides my fantastic new upper arm accessory) were two pairs of unused clamps and scissors, a new stockinette (with the green stripe), and a new shower cover for my arm. Those kinds of things should go in adult happy meals, you know?! First aid supplies in happy meals--I smell a winner. 

Things are just swell. Everything is as it should be. 

Great Weekend!

I know you have better uses for your time than reading about the details of my life. But I just want you to know, great days happen for me! Heavenly Father gives me clarity and drive some days to do what would otherwise be impossible, or detrimental. 

But guys, this was a great weekend! He blessed me so much to accomplish things that would make home a more healing place for me before I'm kind of laid up in the coming months. Thank Thee, Father!

On Saturday, I took my time getting up, but once I was up, I was moving and grooving (mostly in a chair) until midnight. It felt awful, but the satisfying rush of accomplishment trumped the faint, sickening feelings as we ruthlessly purged our closet and put through a few loads of laundry. More than anything, I needed results, and together, we achieved them. Meanwhile, our children played and played and played. Nothing wrong with that!

We had Paleo chicken pot pie for dinner; my mom made it for us after reading my Pi Day rant earlier that day. (*meeep*) Thanks Mom! 

My extended family is appreciating the merit and tastiness of Paleo cooking--yay!

My husband worked a little, but spent most of the day being my reacher and lifter and honey-doer. We got so much done together. SO MICH!!! With our vision and his efficiency, we made our home more pleasant to live in! That's going to make a big difference for me in the coming weeks since I'll continue to be home a lot. 

We went to bed laughing over something silly my taller half had said. Sometimes we go to bed laughing, and last night was one of those nights. Going to bed laughing is a good thing, and too rare for me the last several months! This was a great end to our day. I'm so GRATEFUL we got to spend it together. 

Today I felt like we were all well-dressed for church, and it made a difference. Mentally, I was put together. It felt good to be in our Sunday best instead of just throwing stuff together. Since our closet was pared down, it was easy to see what we had! 

My husband has owned one suit for all our eight years of marriage, and it gave up the ghost last fall. He has been improvising ever since with slacks and sweaters. But a few weeks ago, we got him two snazzy suits. Today he wore his delicious new "shark suit" with an orange tie. He looks positively fierce to me--whew! I wore a pleated, polka dot skirt I found at the thrift store. It's 100% polyester and looks like it belonged to an old lady before it was mine, but I LOVE the polka dots and the way it swishes. The polyester keeps it colorfast and a dreamy texture. 

My children looked cuter than Jane and Michael Banks, with my daughter in her frilly, bright pink dress and my son in his snazzy, navy suit. I love those guys. Give your mother a kiss--mmmuah!

Church itself was so spiritually saturated for me. I could hardly take it all in! I took so many notes to ponder on this week. I. Loved. It. I love church. I NEED it. We can endure to the end seven days at a time, people. Just make it to the next Sacrament Meeting, and you'll be a new person, born again, clean as a whistle! Don't think of enduring decades--just make it to Sunday! (Like that? Read Brad Wilcox's The Continuous Atonement.)

After church I played my guitar for few minutes and tweaked the lyrics to a song I've been working on. Then I finally rested my body in the recliner and enjoyed watching my husband make Paleo chocolate chip cookies--and also our whole family snitch some while they were still warm. :) Seeing my sweetheart in the kitchen, wearing an orange tie and apron--woooo-ee! That makes my heart go pitter-patter if you know what I mean! I had to take a picture so I could keep cherishing this memory. 

We went to our extended family dinner. I had my husband show his new shark suit to everyone because he just looked so nice. We ate abundantly and well. It was my first big meal since my pain attack last Tuesday, and it felt AMAZING to get full and not have a problem afterwards. We topped off the meal with dessert--cookies! The Paleo cookies were a hit! (Want the recipe? Looks for "Real Deal Chocolate Chip Cookies" on the Against All Grain website. We use Enjoy Life semisweet Megachunks--because chocolate should come in chunks, wouldn't you agree?)

My sweetheart had me play the song for everyone on my guitar, and I botched it BADLY with all the new changes I'd made and not being warmed up at all. But once things were quiet, I sang it again and had my husband and father-in-law sing some harmonizing parts to the chorus. It was wonderful. 

I loved sharing this song that was given to me by heaven in the night, and having other people internalize it and feel it with me. What joy! Every other song I've helped bring into this world was from heaven too. I'd suddenly remember it from a forgotten time before earth, pen it, and play it. It's all Heavenly Father. My husband appreciates these songs because he loves me, but it was nice to have more than my solitary voice participate in this heavenly gift of this particular song tonight.  

Our kids played with aunts, uncles, and cousins; they get tons of attention and feel like a million bucks around our big family. We adults connected through visiting. It was beautiful and awesome. 

When we got home, my children asked me to sing them Ricky Gervais's "Celebrity Lullaby," and I said I would if they were ready for bed in five minutes. They each prayed, then got "serenaded" by me and my guitar. There were giggles all around. I like sending my children to bed laughing too when I can. (Don't know what lullaby I'm talking about? Look the video up on YouTube. It's worth the watch! The guitar chords are Am, F, C, G.)

This was about the most perfect weekend I could have right now. No, it was better! Heavenly Father gives me boosts just at the right times, like the water stations along a marathon route. I'm about to ascend a challenging climb, and I don't know when the next rest stop will be, so I cherish days like these!!! Tomorrow I will get a PICC line placed and start my new antibiotic regimen. It'll be a challenge. But I have the Messiah Series to watch, my friend is letting me borrow seasons of the Cosby Show, and my coloring books will arrive soon. I have a beautiful bunch of fluorescent daisies to look at from my visiting teacher (her little girl chose them:). People keep leaving love notes on my door and in the mail, and I collect and read over each one when I need a lift. Things are really grand and okay. I am grateful!

Thank Thee Heavenly Father for giving me positivity and a happy weekend. Thank Thee for knowing what I need. I am so, so grateful!

Pi Day 2015

Today is "Pi Day," a day when number enthusiasts worldwide celebrate the number 3.141592653... and eat pie.

Today is especially exciting for said number enthusiasts because the date is 3/14/15, and at 9:26:53 they experienced centennial, mathematical ecstasy. 

I used to be a number enthusiast (I'm using that term instead of 'nerd') who ate pie on Pi Day. But now food holidays are a bother. All day, I'm averting my eyes from reminders of food I used to eat. 

If I had energy to cook, then maybe I would make me a Paleo pie and join in the circular celebrations of today...or even food aspects of other holidays. 

I feel like Esqueleto in "Nacho Libre" when he says, "I hate orphans! I hate them! I hate all the orphans in the whole world!" It's preposterous! Not to like the food parts of Pi Day, or Thanksgiving, or Christmas?! I'm a fuddy duddy. 

Luckily, Esqueleto changes his mind by the end of the movie. "I like them," he smiles. 

Hopefully, someday my guts will chill out, and I'll be able to say that about food-centered holidays too: "I like them."

New Treatment Plan!

After being off of IV antibiotics for two months, my Lyme numbers increased a bunch (from 94 to 141; negative for Lyme is <17). Other labs show that my immune system is functioning now--wahoo! 

This was a good trial period without antibiotics to see if they helped and if the immune support measures of bee venom, supplementation, and hyperbaric oxygen therapy worked. 

I was optimistic. Admittedly, this regression surprised me. I cried a little at the news. I thought my numbers would be down and the Lyme would be dying off, but since I have felt a bit worse with each passing day, I guess this all makes sense. I'm glad to know I not just "weak sauce." Now we know a bit more about my Lyme's resiliency. The first round didn't take, so we'll have another go. Them are hearty critters. 

In the last couple days, I have made multiple phone calls to:

IV therapy

The hospital's billing department

My health insurance

My Homecare company

Homecare infusion pharmacy

My doctor's office

My regular pharmacy

Now I know one reason why I'm a nurse. I feel like I'm a homecare case manager again, but this time, for myself. Oh, what a high maintenance patient am I! But not by choice! Doctor's orders, you know!

So I'm starting back onto IV antibiotics again next week (with a new PICC line...hhhhhhhh). We're doubling the frequency and keeping on the highest doses we did last time, rotating through four antibiotics week to week. Luckily, since I'm a nurse (and was even a home health nurse), I can sidestep being taught IV administration, have supplies delivered to my house weekly, and administer the IV antibiotics to myself at home four days a week. One day a week, I'll (be driven) to my doctor's IV center and have vitamins and minerals and ozone administered. That's five days of IV therapy per week, ba-BAM. 

In addition, I will continue supplementation and bee venom injections. I may start doing bee venom injections on my own at home as well. Extra funnnn... 

Quick tangent: heres a fun fact. Shots don't hurt. It's the stuff inside them that hurts. Each serum has its own properties. That's why a flu shot doesn't hurt at first but gives you a characteristic ache for a couple days. That's why rocephin in the bum feels like peanut butter being injected through a dull, square needle (¡AAAAII MUCHACHA!). That's why lidocaine stings at first, then numbs afterwards. 

It's not injecting myself that bothers me; I've done it in nursing school. (On second thought, stabbing myself DOES bother me.) It's the stuff I'd inject. Obviously, bee venom stings. Aaah!

But I'm a tough, 103-pound, pioneer woman. *sniffs wrinkled nose in the air and brushes off shoulder pad* (Truth: I do own a blazer with shoulder pads.)

I say that now. Remind me when I feel like (I'm about to say a bad word) CRAP. 

Let me let you in on a secret. These antibiotics bring the Lyme spirochete cells out of their houses and kill them off. I can react with profound symptoms of Lyme as it comes out to play and/or dies off. This is called a Herxheimer reaction (herx for short). 

I used to get antibiotics only twice a week. I'd be herxing and in a daze for about 72 hours. Sunday was my best day, and people always thought I was all sorts of healthy and whatnot. Must have been the verticality, less drunk walk, and rouge talking. 

On these antibiotics, the Lyme does crazy things. I become:

-Forgetful. We're talking major memory impairment. 

-Tipsy, like a drunk person. 

-Weak, with very little vertical stamina. 

-Slow...especially when braking my car (eeeep!). 

-Jerky and/or limpy with an awkward gait. 

-Unbalanced (note to self: stop using messenger bag purse so as not to fall over. Also, don't wear heels.). 

-Aloof and pleasantly numb in my brain. I am like a happy dog living in the emotionally-saturated present: no worries for the future, no regrets about the past; I'm not even sure what month it is. It's kind of nice! It feels childish. I regret not being a more capable mother in all this, but it's either go forward or...keep descending? Anyway, the happy, present-embracing part is dreamy and cool. 

-Unable to read. No retention and no focus, bro. 

-Great at menial hand work from a reclined position, like crocheting with every scrap of yarn in the house. 

-Lazy. Unable to function (keep house, do physically-involved mom stuff). But that's not new. 

There are things I CAN do. But I'm getting tired and won't list them here. Reading to my babies is one of them. Oh! And writing letters. (Care to be my pen pal?)

Now that the weather is warming up, I'm going to drop crocheting and take up coloring intricate, adult coloring books. Coloring is very zen, you know. We adults oughtn't to outgrow coloring! In some circles, it's called "art therapy."

I don't know what to expect this time. I could be on this stuff up to a year long or more. It's going to hit me twice as hard, and there will be 33% more material to kill off and shovel out my liver and spleen and body somehow. Antibiotics target all cells, good and bad, so my body will have to recover from that even when I'm done. 

I hope it will be pleasant and that I won't waste too much time coloring and being mindless. Is it ok to be in a stupor when it's induced? I want to learn and read and be active. With my downtime, I'd really love to become a scripture scholar, but I can't say I'll retain what I read and hear. I can try to learn and retain things. 

I'll still write on the blog often. Surprises are coming down the pipe; I have yet to discover them myself. Just know I'm under the influence of some major Lyme upset (hopefully?) in my brain and body. 

Things are about to change. I prayed about this and know it's the right direction to go at this time. I felt weight, and now I feel lightness. Wish me luck and send optimistic thoughts and prayers my way! Let me do the same for you too. 

Update on Childbearing Post

The views in this post are not meant to be generalizations for everyone. This blog chronicles MY journey through these ailments. This is something I have had to work through lately. (Any personal questions? Let me know. I am pretty open and good at getting specific...but don't want to share the nitty gritty with the whole internet.)

When we got married, my husband and I made our long-term plans around having a very large family. I felt my WORTH was defined by being a childbearing mother. All my life, I had wanted to marry, have a large family, and be a stay-at-home mother. That was my understanding of what God and His prophets had asked us to do, and I was eager to do it!

What I did not know then is that our WORTH comes from being Children of our Heavenly Father. That's it. We can't make Him love us any less or any more. Our worth is infinite and is not based on performance or living up to self-imposed labels (like "childbearing mother" was for me). 

Even though I wanted to conceive immediately after our second child was born, I knew, after seeking my own witness from Heavenly Father, that it was not right. I clung to this assurance for years as I kept asking; it conflicted with our seemingly worthy goal of having a large family. 

Diagnoses eventually rolled in. There are some disconcerting medical considerations for my body. First, my nutrient absorption (especially for folate and B vitamins) is less than optimal, and could lead to spinal cord defects. (I'm not too concerned about this; babies are the best parasites and take what they need...but I don't know if I have enough to give.) Also, Lyme passes to babies. What a hard start to life that could be. It could be hard for me too: even if I become entirely well again, pregnancy could trigger recurring Lyme, since it is a bacteria that acts like a virus. Pregnancy seemed to trigger my current Lyme episode nearly seven years ago. And my husband feared for me throughout my childbearing years.

As a nurse, I like to consider and know about these risks, but I do not believe in always taking counsel from the facts or my fears. I believe in miracles. I know God can do anything. Maybe a miracle would happen: I would get well, stay well, and keep adding to our family after all. Maybe I just needed to learn stuff first...

However, I also believe that God does not want us to run faster than we have strength, and that we each have weaknesses and earthly limitations. I had to accept my life and my body as it was.

Eventually, I acknowledged the danger it would be to grow a baby based on my diagnoses. I could be a risky host, a danger to the baby and myself. That is when I really started studying out the possibility of having only our two children in this life.  

I asked God to help me find my worth as His daughter and not as a "childbearing mother." I knew this could shatter my paradigm and rearrange my world--my ideals and dreams. But He came through and helped me shed the label with heavenly peace.  

Once I was ok with myself, I talked it over with my sweetheart. We studied it out together and asked God what His will is for us. We undeniably knew that our current family is exactly as it should be, and we should not be concerned for the future. We felt sweet peace together.

In fact, shedding my labels helped me fall asleep feeling positively GIDDY with joy and peace. It was HEAVENLY, not at all from this world. I slept soundly for ten solid hours and had the most precious, sacred dream all night long. I awoke refreshed, still overjoyed with exquisite happiness. I felt more "myself" than I had in years. Eternity spoke to my heart! I was operating at a higher frequency all that night and into the morning. It was PERFECT! 

FINDING my journey and ACCEPTING it was COMPLETELY liberating. I was glad to forsake my plan and take on God's plan for us. Life has been so much more peaceful now that I am not kicking against my Father's plan for me and fighting for my own. The inner contention was dark enough to devour me if I didn't turn my will. 

I can either praise God in all things, or I can "curse God and die." I can accept His superior path, or my own myopic path. Only one ultimately leads to happiness. I choose to follow my Father!

In the days that followed (when doubt always creeps in after a great spiritual manifestation), I set out to validate or disprove our answer. I looked up all the LDS talks and quotes I could find about childbearing. I saved for last the teachings of Spencer W. Kimball, the most outspoken authority on childbearing that I knew of. 

A few remarkable things happened. 

First, I internalized the prophets' messages in a new way. I felt their love and concern instead of criticism. To me, their concern came from prophetic foresight about difficulties in the latter days. It also came from experience, knowing that many couples have a smaller window in which to bear children than they expect. My children came like a one-two punch, just thirteen months apart, prior to my health problems becoming debilitating. How grateful I am they are here and that they have each other! 

Second, I noticed that even President Kimball acknowledged that the mother's health needs to be taken into account. I want to deny my issues, but they're real. This also gives some credibility to my risk factors.  

Third, the Holy Ghost told me to stop looking for answers; I had been given everything I needed with my first assurance. All this extra research could lead to confusion if I continued to seek it out. I felt sufficiently rebuked. :)

I am adjusting to our "new" family life. I revert and feel sad once in awhile, but then I feel so satisfied and peaceful. I remember the other-worldly giddiness I have felt. I grow in confidence every day. We are excited to have each day together and to see what our family's mission will be. 

I feel grateful for Heavenly Father's plan and His kindness in my search for answers. He wants each of us to follow His plan for us, and He is more loving and understanding than we can ever realize. 

I Am So Special! A True Tale That Will Make You Feel Good About Yourself

Today, I made a few extra special choices. Long story short, I had to be rescued from the middle of a Walmart parking lot.

Against the laws of nature, we have had a month of spring already. Cousin Rachel said it best: "Punxatawney Phil sits on a throne of lies." Last year's summer heat turned me into a sofa-loving, L-7 weenie. This early spring stuff is bringing up those memories of telling my children no when they wanted to play outside, because I plain couldn't tolerate it. They've been asking for weeks. 

I figured out the problems. Being outside just isn't restful...between having to be upright in a chair or being affectionately mauled by my 67-pound "dogdaughter" if I lie on a blanket. And I can't holler to call my peeps in anymore. 

But now our landscaping is better. Maybe some shade, a drink, a recliner. and our trusty school bell will make things easier. 

By the way, I just want a recliner everywhere I go; is that too much to ask? I want one at church the most. Three hours of supporting my head and neck on my own--! I need major recovery time after that. Day of rest, indeed!

So when I went to the store to pick up the perfect, cheap, reclined chairs on the way home from the doctor's office instead of going home to rest (my first of many mistakes), I thought it was a worthy cause. My kids can play, my head can rest, and I can put my feet up on a bucket or something. I bought two chairs, ba-BAM! Strategy: I'll put a chair at my two best kid-watching spots so I won't have to haul anything around.

Ho ho ho, the cleverness of me!

Feeling like my body was made of jelly and limping a little with fatigue and pain, I made my way to the car, heroic, foolhardy, and victorious. 

I underestimated the size of the chairs and overestimated the size of my car. By a bunch. Those dang chairs wouldn't fit, no way, no how. I tried the backseat, but they wouldn't fit through the door. I hefted my 45-pound wheelchair from the trunk and put it halfway into the back seat before I realized I couldn't get it to fit, and the lawn chairs wouldn't fit in the trunk anyway. 

Dang dang dang dang dang! I used all my muscles and tried everything, losing count of all the mistakes I had made by thinking this would work. 

Admitting defeat, I huffed, plunked down into the stacked chairs, and called for backup.

My sweetheart answered. 

"Hi sweets."

"Hhhhhhhhhiiii."

"Everything ok?"

"Nnnnoo."

"Did you run out of gas?" (PS we had just figured out that my empty light was on. Because I'm uber responsible like that.) 

"Not yet. But I AM in need of rescuing."

He said I didn't need to return the chairs to the store and that he could leave to rescue me in three minutes. My gut was doing special things, but I didn't tell him that. 

Have you ever sat in the middle of a Walmart parking lot on a stack of two lawn chairs? It's kind of fascinating. I felt like a weirdie though. To pass time, I made a list of observations so passers-by wouldn't think I was a people-watching creeper who hides between cars in parking lots. I'm sure that's a real thing in parking lots across America, but I don't want that kind of recognition. 

If you like, you can browse my list. 

Observations:

Gears grinding

Parking stalls being taken within three seconds

Baby talk en espanol

Chit chat about upcoming get together

People not noticing me, like I'm a statue (stealthy, am I!)

Er, people noticing me

Indecisive choosing of parking spots

An engine idling behind me

White dog in the window beside me just popped up--hello!

Blaring radio when car turns on, then turned off

"I'm gonna soak up the sun" playing behind me somewhere--how appropriate

New chairs. New dang chairs that don't fit in my dang car. 

How I feel:

Hot

Head reclined and resting

Feeling foolish, yet comical

Need rescuing

Sun bleaching hair in March?! Me likey. 

Waiting

Sitting between stalls

Keep face directed at phone, even through my closed eyes are behind sunglasses

Tired 

Thinking "what have I done?"

I need to use the bathroom

Where is my husband?

Whiffs of exhaust--*pleh-heh-heh-heh* EW

Then I went to the app where my husband and I stalk each other's locations, and it looked like he hadn't left. I called him and the line was busy. I waited. Then I called again. Seventeen whole minutes had passed. The line was busy, but then he answered. 

"Hi."

"Hi! I can't track you!"

"I've been on the phone. Everyone is calling me at once."

"Where are you?"

"I'm three minutes away."

"OH thank goodness. My BOWELS are SCREAMING!!!!!"

And they were!! Gaa!

But he rescued me.  I told him to tell everyone his wife is an idiot, but he laughed and said NO. 

Here's what I looked like when he rescued me with his Pilot. Me and my bowels thanked him and dashed away (who cares about the empty light?). 

It wasn't without great effort, but I now have two high-backed lawn chairs so I can watch my kids when they beg to play outside this summer. That is, if I don't recede back into the couch. That twenty minutes in the sunshine sapped me. *Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh* I'm done with this post.

I Love the Mountains

I used to drive myself through this canyon until treatment brought out the ninety-nine year old grandma driver in me (with a lethal combination of a lead foot and slow reaction time--eek!). I get to enjoy beautiful mountain views twice a week as a passenger to and from the doctor's office. It's beautiful. I am so grateful for my loving, patient drivers. 

This ride has helped me see these mountains in new ways. EVERY time we go around a bend in the canyon, I see that the mountains have made HUGE changes. The mountains seem to BREATHE!

The fall was breathtaking...oh, mercy! Vegetation turned different shades every  single day. Boasting leaves flitted their new sheens and waved at me. Then as they danced off the trees, they seemed to say, "Until next year, dearest!"

The mountains themselves testify that they are ALIVE! God is Amazing to make these sacred, beautiful spaces full of intelligence and steadfast energy. I am grateful for these mountains and the rock-hard stability they vibe off to me. While their outsides change, their insides remain solid. I am comforted living in their shadows. 

I enjoy taking pictures on my phone of the beauty and personality of these spaces. I want to figure out how to share more pictures with you. (Fun fact: every word I type is from my phone because the computer we have is my husband's work computer and not even located IN the house. I have typed hundreds of pages before this on my phone, but the picture thing still eludes me...) 

This is a picture I have taken this winter. Enjoy!

It's So Heavy.

On those rare days when you are able to naturally wake on your own, do you love the moments just before your eyes flutter open? You're comfortable. You don't know what day it is. There is peace. There is only one knowing voice speaking inside you, gently allowing you be in this simple state. You bask in this feeling of existing without knowing who or how or where you are. You're in a perpetual present. It's beautiful. You feel consciousness gently crowding you, but you're able to put it off for a moment. 

As consciousness rolls in like a dark, knowing cloud over the blank canvas of your peace, you realize you're alive. You remember who and where you are. You breathe deeply of today's air, still not certain what today means for you, but you know it's today and you're living it. You don't move from your comfortable position. Your eyes are still closed. 

Trickling at first, you remember your life. Then suddenly, it splashes over you in a wave of awareness. 

Sometimes it's extra special: "I forgot I am on vacation! This is too good to be true--we're actually here! Today is going to be great. Wow!"

Sometimes it's beautiful: "It's the Fourth of July! We have a long day ahead, and we are going to create great memories. Let's get started!"

Sometimes it's routine: "It's Tuesday. That means there's school, a dentist appointment, and I am expecting an important phone call. Oh, and I can't forget to put a load of whites through."

And sometimes, it's dreadful: "Why do my eyes feel puffy? Did I fall asleep crying? Oh no...I did, and I remember why. Oh no! I didn't sleep long enough to handle this. Oh, how can I ever move from this spot? How can I face the day?"

I woke up dreadfully today. To go from the bliss of entering wakefulness to remembering reality can be so painful. 

I had a surprisingly rough day yesterday. I am still not at peace with it. My life will be taking a new path, and I don't know what that path will be or when I am to embark upon it. 

Providently, someone cancelled an hour-long time slot with my doctor because of the snowy weather, so the office called and offered it to me since we were already on my way up for my treatments. I had wanted to meet with my doctor and knew this was meant to be, but didn't know what we would cover. 

My doctor is amazing. She is very quiet and invites the Holy Ghost into her office. I've seen her discreetly pray and listen and discern. I have felt the Spirit come strongly into the room, distilling truth upon both of us simultaneously. 

My doctor wants me to find my own truth, but when she makes recommendations under the influence of the Spirit, I listen, pray for a witness from the Spirit, and generally hearken. My doctor knows a lot, listens to the Spirit, and has a gift. 

We ended up having a follow-up visit. They usually take a half hour, just to check in and cover the basics. But yesterday, I had lots of new lab results, and there were new topics to address. We needed that entire hour to zoom OUT on everything that had elapsed in the last year under her care. 

My doctor listed each of the many treatments for Lyme I have done and how I "should have" responded to each. But I have stayed the same. She is surprised. Maybe I'm even worse than where we started. 

"We need to figure this out," my doctor said. "You should be feeling much better. There is something we are missing. For some people, it takes a very long time to find the answer, but there IS an answer, and we will find it. I'll pray and think on this, and you pray and think on it too, and we'll see what we can come up with."

She wonders if my extreme fatigue is a sign of unresolved Lyme (which we retested presently) or something she is not able to test: a neurological disease. Maybe Lyme has been on the side of something bigger all this time. My doctor is sending me to a neurologist for evaluation to see if she is missing a problem with the nerves, and also to rule out MS and ALS. My devastating, worsening fatigue is concerning. 

I called for an appointment. Unfortunately, this neurologist isn't available to see me for five months. FIVE! If I can decline this much in five weeks, what could happen in five more months?

This is all so heavy to me. So heavy! 

I felt on the brink of bawling for a few hours after I received news that my nerves are in question, but I couldn't release the tears the way I wanted to. 

My sweetheart felt my heaviness as soon as he saw me and gave me a hug while he listened to a very brief summation of my doctor visit. He lifted some of the weight with his understanding and willingness to cross over anything with me. 

I cried a little once I was alone. I sang my sorrow to Heavenly Father by creating new verses to "Hallelujah." They expressed my confusion and fear, but praised Him with my desire to always love Him. 

Then I asked Heavenly Father for the ability to wait for answers, to know what is really going on, and to know His will once answers came in. 

I feel like a missionary waiting for her mission call to come. I think I am willing to do whatever He gives me to do, and go where he wants me to go. It's just awfully hard to wait for my assignment. 

It's hard for me to wake up every day. To remember my progress and how stagnant it looks to me. To feel the internal earthquakes reshaping my maturity. To feel broken. To wonder what I'll have the ability to do that day. To hope I can be brave and loving for my children. To not be a burden. To desperately reach for the sleep that just slipped through my fingers like parched sand, and to know the Sandman won't be back for another nineteen hours. 

I try to believe in today's potential, and I will do my best to praise God with my hallelujahs all the live long day. But waking up is hard. Every living day, it's hard living, painful like a muscle that is doing more reps than it can handle. It's building strength while ripping fibers and causing soreness afterwards. Boy, am I sore. 

I imagine the day I'll "wake up" from my resurrection with full love, full knowing, full power, full faculties. And I know, somehow and in some way I cannot see through the dark cloud of consciousness, that everything eventually has to be ok.