What a month it has been! I started off with flu like symptoms, just before Thanksgiving. The timing could not have been worse, as my precious newborn nephew was making his debut trip to Virginia. I never had a fever, so when my symptoms subsided, I was relieved. However, the weariness and fatigue lingered. I could not take a shower without needing a nap afterwards. I got winded climbing the stairs. I felt like I could fall over if I carried a ten pound bag.
I knew that “it” was back. Pneumonia.
On Tuesday morning, just before Thanksgiving, I went to see my doctor. He took his stethoscope and confirmed, within a second, that my suspicions were dead on. Pneumonia had come to pay me yet another visit. I had it two years ago and didn’t know so I let it linger and it took me almost a full year to regain my strength. That is the year I fell out of my workout routine and to this day, I have not resumed a workout that is effective.
I sat in my car outside the doctor’s office and sobbed. Exhausted. Disappointed. Discouraged. Defeated.
I was relieved that I wasn’t contagious, as I had allowed myself to meet baby Easton a few nights before, when I was feeling better. I wept with relief that I hadn’t contaminated a precious newborn.
The next morning, Carson woke up with a cold. We were not able to see family that day and I was crushed again. My sister’s family was here from Florida for seven days and the time was fleeting.
Thanksgiving Day dawned and the sniffles were still abounding. We planned to stay home, assuming that others would not want our germs. Determined to make the most of the day, I work up early and began to decorate For Christmas. We had found a beautiful, pre-lit tree the night before, a $200-300 tree on sale for $50. That was all the motivation I needed! By the time the boys woke up, the snowmen were perched all over the new family room and beyond. The twinkle in their eyes was reward enough for my exhausted efforts. I left their ornaments for them to add to the tree.
We ended up joining my extended family later that day. What an emotional roller coaster. We’re not going, we are going. We had our meal at my cousin’s house, newly occupied by her growing family. This house is the one she grew up in. My uncle passed away three years ago and this year my aunt built a smaller house down the lane. It was a bittersweet gathering, thinking of all that has changed over the past three years. So much is still so broken, but I am seeing glimmers of hope and healing.
The following weeks have been a challenge. We have fought various illnesses in varying degrees. I don’t know if we’ve had two or three days when all five of us have felt well. I am weak and tire easily. The boys have been sluggish, achy and our stomachs have not been settled. We continue to push vitamins and Airborne and we all sleep a lot.
This week I returned to the doctor, thinking I had the flu again. Crushed with disappointment, we had to cancel plans with our dear friends, the Millers. They live in New York and we see them once or twice a year. This is not the first time we’ve had to cancel plans, due to illness. Their family has been very sick off and on for the past few months as well. When we make a plan to get together, we always preface it with, “IF we are healthy…” Ugh. Not again!
This time, inside the doctor’s office, I had another meltdown. The reality of being weak and not being able to fight off sickness hit me. I lay on the examine table, waiting to have blood drawn after my chest X-ray and my thoughts turned to the Whetzels and their dear Sam. “They went to the doctor thinking Sam had the flu and walked out of the office with a Leukemia diagnosis.” I wept as I asked the nurse to draw an extra vial of blood to check my white blood cell count.
Bronchitis. Not cancer. Not even Anemia. Bronchitis, and the realization that with my history of sinus infections, Strep, Pneumonia and Bronchitis, that I am probably a chronic asthmatic. She prescribed steroids, an inhaler and a cough syrup with codeine and sent me home with a script for a Z-pac in case an infection set in over the holidays.
As I have processed the news and the realities of dealing with a chronic breathing problem, I wrestle with many fears. Will I regain my strength soon? Will I be able to work out and lose weight again? Will I be able to read aloud to my boys for an hour or more each day without a coughing spasm? Will I be able to sing again?
Yet another meltdown was on Sunday, November 24, just prior to getting the Pneumonia diagnosis. That morning, I tried my best to lead worship and I failed. I lost my voice during the first song. The rest of the set was a disaster. Tension was high. Neither Dad nor Darrel felt confident to lead. Later I wept in the hallway, in the arms of a dear sister and just said, “I am exhausted.”
It has been another challenging and wearisome year. We wore ourselves out finishing the addition. While I didn’t do much to help with the construction, I did pick up a lot of Darrel’s responsibilities inside the house. To enable him to concentrate on the building, I carried more weight with housework and schoolwork.
Of course, the months of September and October were consumed with following Sam’s story and doing fundraising for the Whetzels. While it felt good to have something tangible to “DO,” there were many days we’d spend 3-4 hours (or for me, 6-8 hours) making bracelets. The auction morphed into a huge project and consumed about ten days. Of course, it was well worth it to be able to turn over more than $10,000 to our dear friends, but we wore ourselves out.
This month has been busy regrouping and organizing some Christmas giving projects. Last year I matched needs with resources for several families. I had no intention of doing the same this year, but when met with incredible needs every day, how could I not do something? I began a daily challenge asking folks to “Consider” and “Give.” Once again, my inbox buzzed with offers to help as needs were laid before me. In the past weeks, over probable $2000 worth of funds, gifts, gift cards and other items have been entrusted to me to pass on to those in need. While this is exhilarating and fits my calling and passion so perfectly, it has also been…exhausting.
So, here I am…It’s 3:44 a.m. on a Friday morning, just five days before Christmas. The steroids have kept me from being able to sleep tonight and I am not thrilled. I need my rest, but for tonight, that is not happening. I can rest some today, but by 5 p.m. I will have a house full of some of my favorite youth. I will be fine, but I am a bit concerned about how I will feel and if this all nighter will prolong my illness.
I know it is time to slow down (again). I know there are seasons for everything and that the season for intentional rest and self care is ever upon me. I know life is full of choices and that I need to make sure I am making good choices. And I know that, even when I am weak, He gives me what I need to press on. I am ready to kiss 2013 good bye. I know there have been MANY blessings in this year, but I am ready for a fresh start. I am cautiously hopeful (is that an oxymoron?). I am ready to feel better, to think better, to act better, to be better.It is time to regroup, reevaluate, plan and scale back. I know how to do this, and yet it seems that every six months or so, I need to examine what I do and why I do it.
Father, You know my heart. You created me and You placed within me the longings and gifts to serve and care for others. I know that Your yoke is easy and Your burden is light. I know that You welcome me, weary and heavy laden, to come into Your rest. I am running to Your open arms and falling headlong into Your embrace. I trust You. I need You, I depend upon You. My strength is gone, I put all of my hope in You. Hold me up and give me what I need to do that which You have called me to. Give me grace and discernment to release the things You have not asked me to do. I love You, Daddy and I want to honor You in all that I do and say!
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