He never did!

 

So, it is now 10 weeks post surgery since my finger was washed out twice following an infected cat bite.

As promised, I am writing to tell you how the LORD ministered to me during that horrible hospital stay.

Firstly, let me say that I have a fear of being in hospital and an even greater fear of surgeries. The fact that I have a sick husband at home who needs me didn't help matters.

In the 8 days I was hospitalised, I got to know all the different nurses through their shifts and we developed quite a respect for each other which later blossomed into friendship.

As it turned out, most of them were practising Christians and we had a wonderful rapport.  It was koinonia! 

For my first surgery, the nurse who was looking after me- I will call her Edith, helped an orderly transport me and paused behind the operating room door and prayed for me. Later when I came back to the room, I remarked on it and she assured me that she prays for all her patients going into surgery.

During the procedure I was talking to the anaesthesiologist who was monitoring my pain levels as I was given a nerve block and local anaesthesia. She kept me on an even keel as my fear levels were high. I expected to be put to sleep but with all my comorbidities it was safer to do locals...

During the following 5 days between surgeries, I was looked after by many Christian nurses who also kept remembering Chris in their private prayer time. Due to his illness I told him not to come in and see me. My son who lives nearby came daily to visit and check on him..

The second operation came 5 days after the first as despite IV antibiotics, the infection was still there. It was a repeat of the first except I had a deeper peace about it which I am sure was because of the prayers of the nurses.

At the end of the surgery, the plastic surgeon warned me that the skin edges looked like they were going necrotic and I may need a skin graft... praise God, it wasn't necessary.

There were many dressing changes and blood tests to keep checking on the infection and my veins were all collapsing. The IV cannula was needing to be changed and another Christian nurse who I will call Megan joined Edith in trying to place a new one.

They were having a battle. If they did get one in, it wouldn't flush. After 90 minutes, I couldn't take any more. I started to cry and the girls, who were under the pump to get another IV running, saw that I was at the end of my rope- about 12 attempts, and gathered round me. 

Edith held me against her chest and joined Megan in pleading with Jesus to make a way. They were both crying. It was an emotional time because the Holy Spirit was touching us all. When I was prayed over, I noticed a rosary in my hand. Megan had put it there for strength and trying to return it, she said it was for me to keep- but only if I wanted to..

Personally, I do not pray the rosary or to Mary, but I told her I would keep it to remind me of our blessed time with the LORD. 

We still needed to get that IV running but I needed a bathroom break and Edith came to help me. I asked her what my rights were as I couldn't take much more prodding etc and and did not want them trying to put a cannula in my feet. Not with lymphedema and fibromyalgia.She told me that I can deny any treatment but of course the catch was that my infection would spread.

Helping me back into bed, Megan joined Edith and we reluctantly agreed we must keep trying with the cannula. So after another fruitless search for a vein, Edith remarked to Megan that there was a good one but it was in the arm of the injury. 

They remarked what a pity because it looked like a goer. So I piped up and asked if they could please try it! Edith asked me if I trusted them. I replied that irregardless of whether they get the cannula in or not, I trusted them! They both teared up and decided to give it a try!  Praise the LORD, they got it in and were able to set the IV up!

Not 5 minutes later, the doctor from Anaesthetics (who would not free up the ultrasound machine to help the nurses find a vein), bustled in, saw that the cannula was situated in the side of the injury and said to me,"Glenys this is not what you want to hear, but it has to come out!" I remembered that I have rights and told her no- it stays! It did!

Behind her Edith punched the air in victory and Megan mouthed, "Praise the LORD!" The unsympathetic doctor left with more trials in mind for us.

Coming into the curtained off bed, Megan whispered in a shocked voice that they now want another blood test to which Edith retorted if they wanted to get blood out that they can come and do it! They were not allowed to use the cannula which supplied the antibiotics. 

Apparently all the bloods were up to date and the nurses decided it was a power play and I was the pawn!

Edith was helping me in the bathroom again and we discussed how we all knew the LORD was with us. She reminded me that it is OK to feel fear and not to actually feel the LORD'S Presence during trying times. It is not a lack of faith.

I thanked her for praying for me when she could lose her job if it were known. She replied that we must serve God and not man.

Another nurse called Sulah looked really unwell and I asked her if I could pray for her. We shared a joke about Eve having a lot to answer for eating that apple as Sulah was suffering from women's problems.

I dropped my phone off my bedtable and a male nurse, Joe picked it up and took it to the nurses station to repair it. He knew it was my lifeline to checking on Chris at home... and he was praying for him!

All these believers were of different nationalities and cultures yet there was a strong bond of love. Some likewise were of different denominations yet they all shared joy in Christ and His sacrificial love for us.

The day I was discharged, those nurses who were on duty came to say goodbye. Edith walked me past the nurses station to say goodbye... Joe came and gave me a holy kiss on the cheek, and the admin staff wished me well.

Edith stayed briefly while I waited for my taxi and said we now were friends. She waited until her shift began. I told her I was grateful for her reminding me that our LORD was with me even though I couldn't feel His presence at the time.

I learned that faith can be tested but if genuine, will endure. I know that faith is not dependent on feelings and I know this verse of scripture to be true, "Let your conduct be without covetousness; be content with such things as you have. For He Himself has said,“I will never leave you nor forsake you.” Hebrews 13:5    

Yes, His Word is true- "I will never leave you!" and He never did! 

We're tamers of spoons

With chronic illness and invisible diabilities...People don't see the reasons-   but people do see where you fail...and we all could do with a little validation..                                                  

The pain behind the smile. -The lined sadness on your face.

The fear behind taking a shower. -The unwashed hair.

The exhaustion behind making tea for company. -The reluctance to offer refreshments for company.

The indecision about socialising. -The reluctance to commit to a social gathering.

The angst when planning what to cook. -The canned soup and toast substituting for a cooked meal.

The panic when guests are expected. -The reluctance to invite guests to the home.

The resistance to getting dressed for the day. -The midday pajamas and slippers.

The counting of spoons before doing a task. -The disorganised life that seemingly borders on laziness.

The irksome doctor's trip when you need to rest. -The patient who cancels the doctor too many times.

Yes people see what they want to see and have no idea of what chronic illness can do. They see us as failures whereas we are conquorers of illness and tamers of spoons...

It's a rough time

 

So recently, I have noticed some worrying signs that Chris is sometimes confused and forgetful. It was especially obvious after my 8 days in hospital recently.

During his own hospital stay last year his MRI showed early Alzheimers and coupled with tremors, loss of leg movement, bladder incontinence and extreme fatigue, he is seeing a neurologist for possible Parkinsons Disease as well. 

This came to a head after he had a fall last week and we had to call an ambulance as I couldnt get him up.

I am extremely busy trying to keep Chris clean, dry and happy. I will do everything humanly possible to keep him at home with me.  I will keep you updated.

Please pray for us. It's a rough time. 

A catch up chat

 

Well a lot has happened since my last post. Two more surgeries, umpteen out patient visits to the Plastics Clinic, umpteen dressing changes and pain-killers.

I was in hospital for 8 days and am now trying to manage my home single handedly. It's not easy when you are right handed and the injury was on that hand.

Chris is unable to help me much as he is still suffering from his stroke and can hardly see.

I have managed to keep on top of the dishes and washing but the rest of the cleaning has had to wait until next Thursday when my cleaner comes.

She will change our beds and fold the washing as well as clean in general. I would be lost without her.

Sleep is not very easy as my finger throbs with every heart beat. Compounded with fibromyalgia, the pain has been unrelentless.

As soon as it is easier to type, I will write about how the Lord ministered to me in hospital, in my other blog. 

But for now, my poor finger is aching badly and our catch up chat must come to an end....

My sad tale

 

 

Cat jumped on my bedside table and misjudged the jump and fell. Instinctively I reached out to grab him and he latched on to my finger and wouldn't let go

I was punctured eleven times and couldn't stop the blood cos of my blood thinners. Like a sieve. Carpet bedding. All covered

Went to doc who started antibiotics with next day review. And that night Joey jumped onto the kitchen table and I told him to get down. He swiped at my sore hand again

Luckily I put it away away before he connected Chris said he's got to go. So I rang the pound. Went hospital as doc wasn't happy with my hand. Traralgon told me to go Dandenong for surgery so here l am

Treatment is IV antibiotics and Betadine washes and elevation

Fasting from 7pm tonight in case they want to wash it out again tomorrow

The pain is described in 1 word..childbirth. thanks for prayers. I don't want more surgery and the diabetes is not helping me heal

It's a good job they purr so nicely!

 

So I have been feeling so tired lately. Lymphedema, angina, spinal problems, painful knees and joints marinaded in a background of fibromyalgia, have made it difficult to sleep properly.

My two cats fight over me, battling for who can sleep closest to me. If it wasn't so exhausting, I would be flattered. So I never feel rested anymore.  

Mid morning, I find myself needing to take a nana nap just to get through the day. The cats Xena and Joey are mewling around me, but I still manage to nod off anyway.

I know that they will eventually settle down and possibly one of them will join Chris for a snooze. What can go wrong? I muse. Plenty, I have found.

For example there will be a resolution of a Mexican standoff by one of them attacking the other for the right to sit on my chest. Shrieking is followed by lots of fur... and I am rudely roused from my slumber.

Xena has often climbed up and tapped my open mouth kissing me awake. I am not amused.

Joey is the newest member of the family and shyly holds back but decides to viciously attack my carpet or armchair, pulling threads and even in sleep, I hear it.

I yell at him to stop the scratching, and he skittles off, sulking for a few hours and showing me his back in protest... he is of course hurt to the max...

Or if these scenarios don't happen, in a rare fit of co-operation and alliance, they both will skid on the laminated floors during a well orchestrated fit of mutual zoomies as soon as I lay down. 

Not for the first time, I wonder why I love them so much and why I always forgive them. And I know I will...and they know I will. 

It's a good job they purr so nicely! 

The Spam we don't hate.

 

As I said yesterday, I have overwhelming fatigue and pain, mainly from fibromyalgia. So like this meme, I too am creating a simple life.

Lately I have been thinking about creating nourishing breakfasts that don't take all my spoons away before I have even started the day.

So today I came across a simple breakfast of fried Spam on toast with a poached egg over the top of it.

I decided it was just what the doctor ordered and am going to prepare it for us tomorrow.  

Here is the recipe  for the Spam we don't hate...

If not now: when?

 

This fatigue from chronic illness- mainly fibromyalgia is wearing thin. My patience with myself is almost over.

Lately I am too tired to do more than 5 minutes of cooking, washing, shopping for food and even paying bills.

I sleep fitfully, waking myself up with groans of pain as I try to find a comfortable position in my sleep.

My muscles feel like they're tearing, my head aches and I literally hurt from the top of my head to the soles of my feet.

I have been taking the advice of my doctor at the pain management clinic- playing Candy Crush to take my mind off the pain. A game lasts less than 5 minutes as well.

I realise I sound like a whinger, but I am truly over this rotten condition. And there seems to be no end to it as a flare now takes residence in my body but never leaves..

Each morning I wake up, I try to gather some spoons or energy, but once the kettle's boiled and the toast is eaten, that's it for me.

I push myself to take our bloods to monitor our diabetes, I inject Chris and myself, take my tablets and mindlessly drink my tea and eat my toast. And I wait.

Fed, watered and rested, I watch the birds outside eat the food we put out for them last night, and I wonder if I will get a breath of wind under my sails this morning. Because really, if not now: when?

I am sure she does it deliberately!

 

So I finally crawled into bed a few nights ago, glad to see a day of unbearable pain from fibromyalgia, bad knees and angina, drag to an end.

My little cat Xena was under my covers, sleeping with me like she does every night.

I was in the uneasy sleep where you are aware of pain but not quite awake. I must have been groaning or making strange noises.

Gradually, I became aware that Xena was near my face, rubbing her face on mine, gently tapping me with her paws and sniffing my breath.

I pretended to still be asleep to see what she would do. After a final sniff of my breath, she seemed reassured that her mother was still alive, and returned under the covers but she kept her back against my body... purring.

Somehow her purring was very soothing and as I reflected on a loving cat's healing ability to calm, I fell asleep.

I once read about purring being calming for us humans... and not for the first time, I felt the need to share in the blessings of  owning a cat. I highly recommend it for us Sacrificial Home Keepers.

Xena's purring often occurs when she settles beside me and as I said, it does calm me. She is a very affectionate cat. I am sure she does it deliberately! 

Chronic illness is strange.

 

Chronic illness is strange.

One day I can clean the house, play with my kids, make dinner, and almost feel like myself.

The next day, brushing my hair feels impossible.

That’s the part people don’t see.

It’s not laziness.

It’s not a lack of motivation.

It’s a body that doesn’t keep its promises.

I never know what version of myself I’ll wake up to.

So if I cancel plans…

If the laundry sits another day…

If dinner comes from the freezer…

If my kids get an extra movie day…

It’s not because I don’t care.

It’s because I’m spending every ounce of energy I have just trying to make it through the day.

Chronic illness teaches you to celebrate things healthy people never have to think about.

A shower.

A trip to the grocery store.

Making it through an afternoon without needing to lie down.

If you woke up today and your body fought you every step of the way, I’m proud of you for making it this far.

Some days surviving is the victory. by Makenzie Taylor

Blessings, Glenys

It hasn't died.

 

I love collecting pictures of women joyfully cleaning and maintaining their home. But with all pictures, I can get very nostalgic.

Many moons ago, I was this industrious woman tending to her home, and I loved it.

With the beginnings of my chronic disease issues, I was often hospitalised and gradually what was achieveable with minimum effort is now impossible.

Many days now I spend most of the day in bed thanks to fibromyalgia, and even the days I am not bedridden, I can't move much thanks to torn ligaments in both knees.

At 73, I am able to get 2 hours help a week with the Aged Care Package. I look forward so much to those days. It is fun to plan what I need her to do. It soothes my soul to have a well run and clean home.

Some days, however I do get sad that I need another woman to clean for me, but as the young ones say, it is what it is!  There is no good in feeling false guilt because this only leads to the Pit of Despair.

On those days, I give thanks that there is a way to keep my home as I like it- just not with my hands. The happiness at living in a clean house still soothes the soul of this ageing Sacrificial Home Keeper who still loves her home...

and realises that spoons and muscles and knees may have died, but her love for her home, hasn't.

What chronic illness looks like.

I found this very true and interesting blog by Makenzie Taylor...

The thing people don’t understand about chronic illness is that it doesn’t just steal the big things… it steals the ordinary.

The walk from the car to the store.

Brushing your hair.

Getting dressed.

Standing long enough to cook a meal.

Carrying groceries inside.

Folding a basket of laundry.

Even getting out of bed.

These aren’t small tasks when your body is fighting itself.

Every step costs energy…

Every task comes with questioning yourself..

If I start this, will I be able to finish it?

Will I make it back to my car without feeling like I’m going to collapse?

Can I cook dinner without my body giving out?

These are the thoughts that quietly run through your mind every single day.

You learn to celebrate things most people never have to think about because sometimes simply making it through the day is the victory.

That’s what chronic illness looks like.

So true

 

Chronic illness is like being trapped inside a house that’s falling apart while everyone else only sees the front porch.

They see the lights on and assume everything inside must be fine.

They don’t hear the pipes rattling in the walls.

They don’t notice the cracks spreading across the foundation.

They don’t know which stairs you’re avoiding because they might not hold your weight today.

You become an expert in damage control.

You learn which rooms you can use and which ones are off limits.

You learn that fixing one leak might mean ignoring another.

You learn how to smile in the doorway while hiding the collapse happening behind it.

Some days you patch the holes well enough that nobody notices…

Because they can’t see the beams splintering beneath your feet.

Living with chronic illness is maintenance without an end date.

Repairs without recovery.

Survival work that starts the moment you wake up and follows you long after everyone else has gone to sleep.

You don’t get to step outside of it.

You don’t get to move away from it.

You don’t get to hand the keys to someone else and ask them to take over for a while.

You simply learn how to live among the ruins and call it home by Makenzie Taylor 

Something I hope and pray for.

 

Another issue to afflict me. An exacerbation of my lymphedema  I have been in hospital to treat my cellulitis in the legs. I was on IV antibiotics but after 24 hours they sent me home.

I am now on oral antibiotics which are very rugged on my stomach. But I need to persevere.

As Chris is unwell, I told him to stay at home. There wasn't really a lot he could do for me and thanks to mobile phones, I was able to keep in touch with him.

My doctor has told me to try to keep my legs elevated to try to encourage the swelling to recede, but she has also said that lymphedema usually is a life long problem.

My aged care personal assistant/cleaner can't come to the house if I am not there so I came home to a mess. Chris is not well enough to do much and can hardly stand up since his stroke.

At least I know that I do not have any blood clots in my legs. They did an ultrasound because my legs were hot and swollen and very sensitive to touch. They did hurt with the swelling, lymphedema and of course severe fibromyalgia.

I am planning on having an early night as they have told me to rest. Which is all very well until you see my messy house.

Tomorrow I am planning to shower and get some water on my affected limbs seeing as the doctor said I could do that. To make that happen, I will be praying for strength in the morning. A shower is very taxing these days.

I will bid you goodnight then take my final antibiotics for the night and head to bed. 

Tomorrow is another day and with God's help my legs will be a bit better. I just want some improvement- and it is something I hope and pray for.

It's my new normal...

                                                                               

Lately I have been extremely tired and in pain. My fibromyalgia has flared, my knees are sore and my lymphedema has caused my legs to swell so much that the skin has burst in places and is leaking clear fluid.

I am on strong antibiotics to prevent cellulitis and the doctor has told me to rest my legs by keeping them elevated.

So I have had to think about what needs to be done daily just to keep the domestic wheels turning. Chris is battling his own health issues and cannot help much.

At the very least I need to feed us daily and keep up with the washing of clothes and dishes. And feed the cats.

So in the morning I rise, feed the cats and birds, feed us and test our sugars and inject our insulin and take our tablets. I check emails, budget and repeat prescriptions...

I pull the blinds up and let the sunshine in and if the weather is OK, I open the windows a bit.

I do a quick ablution and get dressed. Then I put on a load of washing. I rest my legs by having a foot rub on the couch to encourage the fluid to go up towards my heart.

About 11am I put the kettle on and change the clothes from the washer to the dryer. I later sort out his and her clothes and we live out of the laundry tub.

We have a cup of tea. I decide what to have for dinner and take some meat out to defrost. Then back to the couch which usually ends up with me taking a nana nap. I just can't seem to stay awake lately...

So with extremely limited energy, I start dinner around 5pm. And I have found cooking in cookie sheets so handy when you literally can't stand for long. I found a website here that is so helpful. 

While dinner's cooking, I feed the 3 cats again then I take our blood sugars and inject us. We then eat and usually I clear the table and Chris loads the dishwasher if he has energy.

I go around pulling blinds down and turning lamps on to give a restful ambiance. Then I turn our electric blankets on low. Then I dispense the night medications and put my swollen legs up.

I know it doesn't seem like much to women who enjoy good health but it is a lot for me to do each day.

I go to bed about 10pm and listen to the Bible on YouTube. I like Sir David Suchet's readings. Most times I fall asleep pretty quickly.

I usually wake about 7am and start the day much the same as described. It's my new normal...

It was 'good' not perfect

 “The message from church and culture alike to many people with disabilities has been that their lives are, at best, an exception to God’s design and, at worst, a problem to be resolved. Their differences are often received as intrusions into an otherwise idealized human norm,” wrote John Swinton last year.⁠

 

“Such a vision turns the hospitable logic of creation on its head. It suggests that belonging is conditional, and therefore one must change in order to be welcomed. In this way, communal belonging that was meant to reflect God’s goodness becomes a place of exclusion. ⁠

⁠

The church must learn to hear and resist this distortion. If God’s creation is good, then every life within it, regardless of capacity, cognition, or conformity, is already gifted with divine affirmation.” ⁠ https://chrst.today/4lPcCIM

Follow the above link to this article from Christianity Today