Sunday, November 10, 2013

Confessions of a distraught wife…



I don’t do a good job of taking care of myself.

Ian is having a not-so-good day.

Sometimes I’m a work-a-holic.

My pile of mending is about to cascade off the sewing table onto the floor.

I didn’t clean our bathroom for over a month.

Baskets of clean, unfolded laundry sit around.  Most of the time.

I’m funny sometimes.  But normally I’m not.

I drink coffee every morning.  I didn’t used to.

Tonight I thought about running away.
Only thing… I would have to leave my heart behind.  It would hurt too much to take it with me.  Since being heartless isn’t an option.  I guess I’ll stay.

Shadrach bit me because he wasn’t excited about having Meshach and Abednego as friends.

Since I’ve moved to IA I’ve become a terrible driver.

Ian is often hungry and I usually don’t know what to feed him.

I bought another plant yesterday.

My refrigerator makes our food smell and taste funny.

I cry most days.  Every day.  Mostly.

I hurt when I see strength.  I cry when I see goodness.  I’m so mixed up and confused inside sometimes, mostly.

It’s the moments when hope is wiped away.  When I can’t see anything in the future.  It’s simply a void pulling me along.  Some days I hate time.  I hate the feeling of needing to do the never-ending list of, ‘have tos’, ‘should dos’ and ‘must dos’.  I hate the feeling of time slipping away.  And when I realize that Ian might get worse instead of better, I’m annoyed at myself for wasting these moments we do have together.  I’m annoyed at myself for crying.  I’m annoyed at myself for not treasuring life.

Sometimes I don’t know how I will go on.  Sometimes I don’t know how I will face the next few moments let alone tomorrow or in five years.  Sometimes I want to scream even though it would make my throat hurt and even though I don’t like screaming at all.

We talk those serious talks about the future.  We try to take into consideration all the options.  Even death.  And it all hurts too much.

I tell myself not to worry.  I tell Ian not to worry.  I say, “Stop worrying!”  I realize I am worrying.  What do I do?  What do I say?  What is worry?  How do I learn to quiet myself before God without a heart of worry?

I’ve fallen into a holding pattern that swings between, living as if Ian will someday change for the better, and the reality that not much has changed at all.


We spent a week a Mayo and then returned the following Tuesday for an MRI for Ian.  The doctor reported to us that the MRI showed nothing.  So far every single test Ian has gone through has come back normal except for the EMG.

EMG stands for Electromyography, a test that uses shocks and needles in the muscle to detect a problem with the nervous system or the muscles themselves.  Ian’s EMG did not find anything wrong with the nervous system but found some abnormalities in the muscles.  The EMG is not a diagnostic test but can only show that there is a problem.

We will go to Mayo for another appointment sometime within the next month for a muscle biopsy.  The doctor looked at us and said that there is, “Very, very little chance that we will find anything wrong, even with the muscle biopsy.”  We are going to go ahead with the biopsy.  Not as a last resort but as the next step.  We know that God is always the first and last resort and that is where we started and where we will end.  While we walked the halls of Mayo like hundreds and thousands before us with hopes of healing we also understood that there is only one true Physician and He can not only heal our illness and disease but He can heal our sin wracked lives with His precious blood.  And so while we are coming to the end of modern science’s understanding in this area, we know a God that created man and breathed life into him.  We are learning His faithfulness.

Thank you for your continued prayers, love and support for us.

Sunday, November 3, 2013

Why do rabbits die?


It’s the Mayo Clinic haze.  It’s the first thing that hit me when I realized we were going and it remains hanging over our time as if I didn’t drink enough caffeine and I’m still trying to wake up.  Or maybe I hit my head on one of those marble pillars that support the elevator system between the Mayo and the Gonda building.  Sometimes my head throbs like I did.

Our first visit with Doctor Milone didn’t reveal much.  She sent Ian through the paces and gathered all the info from the previous tests that he has undergone.  She ordered more tests and a return visit on Friday.  The following days were a series of tests, not too intense, aside from the EMG on Thursday morning and a physical strength test on Friday that will have Ian wiped out for several days.

Ian’s sisters, Mary Heather and Rebecca came and spent almost the entire four days with us.  It was special to have them there.  They helped to cheer us on and cheer us up during the waiting times.

At one point I sat in the waiting room and looked over and saw another young couple sitting together.  He was the one there for an appointment and she sat next to him silently crying.  We didn’t get a chance to talk to them as we were called away to our appointment but it struck a cord in my heart.  So many, many, many ill people come and go through the halls of Mayo.  Each one is there seeking answers to some of life’s biggest questions.  Just like Ian’s little brother Clyde asked Ian last night.  “Ian, why do rabbits die?”  There is much in that simple question.  Hopes and dreams of today and tomorrow tied up and left to the inconsistencies of life.  And what is God saying in all of this?  I find the only place to rest is at the feet of the One who says, “I change not.”

Doctor Milone asked us if we wanted to go ahead and pursue a MRI and yet another muscle biopsy.  Why not?  Because it might reveal an incurable muscle disease.  So we ask, we wonder.  We hold tight to each other through the haze, and through the tears.  And like I read on the back of a pink sweatshirt that walked by, “Let us run with endurance the race that God has set before us.”

We’re home from Mayo for the weekend and we’ll head back up again on Tuesday.  Most likely for the rest of the week.