Boring Health Update

I feel I need to put this down, to document it and to let long-distance friends know what's been going on the past several days, weeks, and months, but I hate talking / writing about this stuff. I can tell you the what - it's the why that's messing with my mind.

I learned long ago (and repeatedly) that the "why" of a thing isn't necessarily going to be revealed. That it's a matter of trusting in God's goodness and faithfulness even (especially?) in the midst of uncertainty. Yet here I am again, having this same truth hammered into me - again. Oh, Jesus, I do trust You; still, there are questions . . .

Thursday morning, February 18th, I had the first of a series of what I can only call "attacks". Gnawing, burning, mind-numbing pain, during which I go into the bathroom, close the door and roll around on the floor, whimpering like a pathetic puppy. It becomes difficult to move. I haul myself to the toilet and alternate sitting on it and leaning over it for the better part of an hour. I actually welcome this because it takes my mind off the pain for a while.

Some attacks (they occur about every 7-10 days) are more vicious than others. About 2 weeks ago, the pain was so severe, I actually prayed that God would knock me out or take me home. About 4 hours later, I found myself in the ER. It was the most painful, humiliating night of my life. I'll spare you the details. I don't know what I would have done without Danny, who sat there all night with me, until the doctor finally came in around 6 AM.

It's been uphill from there. The next day a scope revealed that I had a severely inflamed duodenum (first time I ever even heard the term!), the top part of the small intestine. The doctor felt it was probably caused by the same bacteria that causes bleeding ulcers. I felt so much better, just knowing the what and the why of all this (and being on quite a few different medications!), certain that now I could put it all behind me and get on with my life.

The next week, the biopsy results came back that this was not caused by a bacteria, or any other discernible thing. My mind began spinning with questions. What happens when I'm done with the meds? Will the pain return? Will I have to live the rest of my life without eating Italian food, or having a burger with kechup, or worse still, without drinking coffee?? I'm not kidding, I actually began mourning at the thought of a lifetime without my favorite legal addictive stimulant!

And then the second blow: I had 2 more attacks while on the meds - a pretty severe one Wednesday night, and another, less severe one yesterday morning. The bad ones wipe me out for an entire day, and the not-as-bad ones, for at least half a day. It's just frustrating and humbling to know that I have no control over this. My appetite returned after coming home from the hospital, but fear has been stronger than hunger.

I guess the most difficult element of all this has been the realization that my body is getting older. For heaven's sake, I thought this was supposed to be the "prime of life" - and now I find I'm weakening and wearing out and it may just get worse from here!? Maybe I don't want answers after all!

Danny & I have decided against me seeing a GI specialist unless I have another severe attack. In the meantime, this is forcing me to take one day at a time and depend on God and on other people like never before. It's hard to acknowledge my own weakness and it's hard to need people - but being on the receiving end of cards, meals, help with the kids and concerned phone calls has been a huge blessing in the midst of humbling circumstances. There is much to praise God for.

I may never know the why or the how to prevent this from ever happening again; but what I do know is that I'm grateful for increased health and strength in the last few days. One day at a time . . .