Apologies. May they be blessings.

A few weeks ago, a very dear friend was chastising me for doing so much when I was quite sick with a respiratory tract infection. Her words deeply seared my soul, but I also knew everything she was saying was out of love. She was treating me like I was her daughter. Although no one likes being scolded as one would rebuke a child, it is also so endearing that my friend felt so much love for me.

About a week later, my friend apologized to me. She realized she had treated me as if I was her daughter. Although the apology was unnecessary, it helped our friendship bloom. We both had a clear understanding of the events which unfolded, and neither one of us had bad feelings toward one another. What a blessing my friend’s apology has been.

Recently, I had a situation arise in which I misunderstood someone’s words. Oh the heartache I felt when I realized my error. I prayed that God would resolve the situation. “O LORD, make my words disappear. Please smooth over this situation.” I felt a tremendous amount of guilt. I knew needed to make amends. Scripture tells us over and over again to settle things with our neighbor. We must act. God will not make amends for us. Now I needed to obey God and His commandments. But would my apology just make everything worse? I prayed to a God, “Please let this apology be received with kind intentions and love. Please let this apology make the situation all better. Oh what a fool I have been! LORD, please forgive me; please make this all work for good.”

I sent off the apology and hoped for the best. It was very freeing writing the apology. But now it was time to wait. Time to wait to see if my foolishness had caused any permanent harm. Time to wait to see if my apology was understood and accepted. Time to see how this will all unfold. Although I could have easily not sent an apology, I know I will never be right with God if I did not act. It is better to do things God’s ways and suffer possible consequences now than to do things man’s ways and suffer consequences in the world to come. Praying my apology (and all my future apologies to come) will be a blessing.

Back to what seems to be my second home

As I gaze about my surroundings, I wonder how I am back here again. I am back in the hospital, back in the ICU. When I woke up this morning, I simply intended to go to a doctor’s appointment. My physician, as soon as he saw me, said I needed to go to the emergency department. I had a respiratory tract infection. The doctor immediately calls over to the emergency department to arrange for my arrival. As soon as the physician is off the phone, he returns to my exam room and says we are heading over to the hospital. Thankfully, the emergency department entrance is just across the street and through the emergency department parking lot from the clinic, about a two minute walk.

To my surprise, the physician gathers up my ventilator and whisks me off to the emergency department (ED) with two nurses in tow. Upon arriving at the ED, the doctor talks to the nurse in charge of triage. I skip triage and am given a room immediately. The physician uses his medical badge to make all the locked hospital ED doors instantly swing open. As we make our way through the ED, the doctor says, “Hi!” to another doctor and some nurses. As soon as I arrive in my ED room, a nurse from the hospital takes charge. My doctor informs me other physicians from his team will be taking over my case shortly. The physician prays with me and then departs.

As everything transpires, I am overwhelmed at the speed in which everything moves. Within two hours of arriving at the ED, I am transferred up to the medical ICU. It seems only when my bed is leaving the ED and heading for my future residence for an undetermined amount of time does the urge to flee take hold of my soul. I know I am sick. I know several days of IV antibiotics, IV steroids and medicines run through my nebulizer will quickly ease my severely labored breathing. I know this is my chance to perhaps kick this respiratory infection to the curb once and for all. But even with all these potential positive outlooks in my mind, I cannot help but lament the ICU.

I have spent much time reflecting back on my ICU experience from July of 2017, an experience in which a physician tried to intentionally kill me. (Click here for more details.) I have spent many of my past hospitalizations terrorized another doctor would also try to kill me. However, I have recently given up all my anxiety to God. He has saved me over and over again. If evil comes up against me again, He is my refuge. It is the LORD who directs my path and to Him shall I trust to keep me safe through all the days of my life. With a warm feeling of love and comfort flowing through my body, I resign myself to spending more days of my life confined to a hospital bed.

This is the last time I will see you...

Have you ever had the experience upon seeing someone that it will be the last time you will see each other? Have any of those feelings ever been correct? I sometimes feel as though when someone goes away on a trip or has an invasive medical procedure that this "might" be the last time we see each in this life, but I have had some distinct incidents in which the feeling came during a casual meeting. The most meaningful one was with my grandma.

A number of years ago, I was venturing off to a large medical facility in search of trying to figure out what was causing my dramatic downward health spiral. I visited my grandma two days before the trip. We talk about the trip and all the testing I was going to have. We said good-bye and parted ways. The following day, I needed to stop by her house. She had an electric scooter she said I could use for the trip. I had completely forgotten to take it with me the day before. So, unannounced, I arrived at my grandma's house to retrieve the scooter. Our visit was very brief, lasting only a minute or two. "Hi grandma! I forgot to pick up the scooter yesterday. I just stopped by to get it." My grandma replied it was in the garage and the keys were in the scooter basket. She remarked how great I looked (for indeed I was having one of the best days of health I have had since becoming debilitated with mitochondrial disease).

As I left her house, I glanced back at my grandma. (She did not know I was watching her.) She was struggling to put some dishes away in the cupboard. Her hands and upper body were shaking. As she moved her body, her bright cheerful face melted into a grimace of pain and agony. My heart broke to see her suffering so much. I instantly knew she was hiding much of her pain and struggles to the outside world. She only allowed her body to show symptoms when she was alone and thought no one was watching. As I shut her house door, a message was instilled in my heart: this would be the last time we would see each other in this lifetime. Upon hearing this message, I rejoiced I was having such a great day of health, and my grandma was able to witness it. What a tremendous blessing it is to have her last memory of me when I was having such a spectacular day of health. I still cry at this thought. God certainly gave me an incredible day of health, perhaps solely for my grandma to see me one last time not suffering, but full of energy and vitality.

Indeed, this was the last time my grandma and I saw each other. The next day, I left on my road trip to the large medical facility. That night, my grandma was rushed to the hospital. Her heart stopped while having a CT scan. The doctors revived her, but she never recovered. She was moved to a hospice facility. A few weeks later, she entered eternity. I thank God for that one last visit with my grandma. I thank God for that spectacular day of health. I thank God for lending my grandma to us for so many years. I thank God for sending me the message that that would be the last time my grandma and I would see each other in this world. "Praise ye the LORD. Praise God in His sanctuary: praise Him in the firmament of His power. Praise Him for His mighty acts: praise Him according to His excellent greatness." (Psalm 150:1-2)

Praying...unintended consequences

When I heard a large storm was slated to hit the city in which I have been receiving a significant amount of my medical care, I immediately started praying for my pulmonologist. I was so concerned for her. I prayed that she would be part of the medical team who would ride out the storm in the hospital. I knew the hospital would have food, water, electricity and would be safe from any possible flood waters. There would be no place safer for her to be than in the hospital.

Moreover, my pulmonologist is an amazing doctor. Out of the 300+ doctors I have had since 2009, she ranks among the top three. She is caring, compassionate and has the disposition to handle stressful situations. During the chaotic times of the storm, her level-headedness would keep those around her focused; her kindness would keep her patients calm. So, with these positive intentions in mind, I kept asking God to keep my pulmonologist safe, to allow her to be a blessing to her patients, to give her the stength and energy to endure the storm, and to put up a hedge of protection around her house to guard it from possible flood damage.

Five days into the storm, I spoke with a woman whose son is a nurse at the hospital. She stated he had been working for five days straight. He was very tired and was anxious to get home where his girlfriend had been riding out the storm alone. Suddenly, my heart sank. Yikes! I had been praying for my pulmonologist, but I had failed to pray for her family! How stressful it must have been for my pulmonologist and her family to have been separated during the storm. I started fervently praying for my pulmonologist's family.

After the storm passed, I continued to pray for my pulmonologist, her family and her home. I kept hoping everything was ok.

Two weeks after the storm, I received an email from my pulmonologist. She said she was ok and her home was not damaged. She had been working for 14 days straight, with five of those days being continuous in the hospital during the storm. As I read her email, my heart sank. Oh no! I had prayed for her to be safe in the hospital, but I had failed to pray she would have time off after the storm. Oh, the consequences of my short-sightedness!!! I again began fervently praying, praying God would give my doctor strength, energy and rest from her long work schedule. For the next week, I was in torment; I had prayed prayers which resulted in unintentional consequences. I felt so guilty!

Thankfully, at my next appointment, my doctor looked rested and exhibited no signs of fatigue from her previous long work schedule. I breathed a sigh of relief! "Thank You LORD for hearing all my prayers. Thank You LORD for keeping my pulmonologist safe. Thank You for protecting her home. Thank You for allowing her to be a blessing during the storm. Thank You for giving her renewed strength and energy. Please continue to give her rest and continue to guide her in all her endeavors. Please forgive my lack of foresight. I hate that my prayers could cause harm to anyone. Please continue to guide me and lead me. Amen."

When God sets a stumbling block in your way

For several months, I have been fighting daily with severe, chronic pancreas pain. After two failed GI doctor appointments, I was thrilled to be referred to a GI physician at my favorite medical center. Although the doctor did not specialize in the pancreas, I hoped I perhaps could be referred on to a doctor at the GI clinic whose expertise is the pancreas.

My appointment went well. The doctor was so kind and listened to everything I had to say. I was excited to have a great physician to be adding to my medical team. At the end of the appointment, the doctor wanted me to talked to her dear friend, the dietitian. And that’s where everything fell apart. Without going into all the details, the main theme of my encounter with the dietitian was our philosophies clashed. She had one idea about health, “You cannot get your nutrition from fruits and vegetables,” while I hold tried and true that my fruits and vegetables diet, which I have been on for the last seven years, has been the only source of food which has not made me severally sick. In fact, I was able to gain 30 much needed pounds when I started eating a produce-based diet.

During our meeting, I was told I needed to eat food in which I have adverse reactions to. Despite having Celiac Disease, I needed to eat gluten containing products. Despite having an anaphylactic reaction to rice, I needed to drink rice milk. Despite having a severe corn allergy, I needed to consume supplemental formula which contains corn as the main ingredient. If I did not overcome my “fear” of these foods, I needed to seek psychological counseling. I was not willing to oblige the dietitian in her demands.

After the nutrition expert left, a nurse gave me a summary about my visit. I noticed there was not a follow-up appointment noted. I inquired as to when I should schedule my next appointment. The nurse said, “If it is decided you need a follow-up appointment, you will be contacted.” Time has passed; no one has called me. I wonder if a follow-up appointment is not necessary, or if perhaps the dietitian swayed my doctor’s thoughts about my case. One may never know.

Although I could be frustrated, I know God directs all things. If this doctor and clinic were not the right place for me, a stumbling block will force me to search out another path. And thus, another avenue I am seeking. Perhaps some day I shall find relief from my constant, chronic pancreatitis pain. Until then, may God and His stumbling blocks continue to guide me.

A mother’s endless love

Across the many miles, my mom is always at work, trying to provide love and support to her family. Even when her daughter insists she is a big girl and can take care of herself, my mom always tries to do everything she can to improve my circumstances.

Recently, a bad case of tracheobronchitis abruptly changed a doctor’s appointment into a trip to the emergency department and a subsequent multi-day hospitalization. With my numerous food allergies and severe food restrictions due to chronic pancreatitis, I was finding it very difficult to get just plain fruits and vegetables for my meals at the hospital. In normal situations, my mom becomes my personal food coordinator, running to the store to buy me food or making food for me at home and bringing it to the hospital. This time, my mom could not come to the rescue in her usual way; she was many hundreds of miles away traveling. But, like a knight in shining armor, my mom took it upon herself to reach out to our church, neighbors and anyone else she could contact to have folks visit me and bring me some much needed food. I was stunned and shocked at the outpouring of support. I have never had so many people visit me in the hospital before. (Usually my mom is my only hospital visitor.) Despite my mom not physically being able to visit me in the hospital, she never ceased to contact me and continually asked if I had everything I needed.

Although Mother’s Day is just s single Sunday etched out on the calendar, every day I am grateful to be blessed with such an extraordinary mom. Words cannot express the immense love I have for her. She makes me smile; she makes me laugh. Hearing her voice brings great comfort to my soul. I praise God He has bestowed upon me such an abundance of love. May this day and every day be a day in which I can show my tremendous love to my mom. Love you mom to infinity and beyond!

Notes from the Past

I open up my 5-subject notebook to start another session of taking notes as I read through the Bible. I smile when my notebook flips open and lands on my old immunology notes from university. Complement, immunoglobulins, light chains, heavy changes, antigens! Oh My! I start laughing when I think about this. Oh the endless hours and the round and round pathways which never seem to end! I know these are important factors in one's immune system, but I am so happy God, the great Creator, understands all this. He created it; I will leave it to Him to understand it all. I treasure moments like this.

It is a gentle reminder of all the needless worry and stress God saved me from. He took drastic measures to get me to where I am today. But I am happy; I am joyful; I am free to study His Word and develop a better relationship with Him. What a tremendous blessing He has bestowed upon me. With that, chapter 2 of the book of Amos awaits me. Good day!

Chasing the wind

These last few days, health and healing have been on my mind. A few days ago, a woman at church asked if I was on the transplant list. After a brief moment of confusion, I realized she was asking me the question because I use a ventilator to breathe. "Oh, no. I am not on a transplant list. There is nothing to transplant. It is my respiratory muscles, in particular my diaphragm muscles, which are weak. They do not transplant these muscles," I replied.

Last night, a friend of mine mentioned a church she attended did a healing service for a woman. The Pastor demanded in the name of Jesus Christ for the cancer to leave the woman. My friend thought this was not Biblical and decided not to attend that church again. As I searched the Scriptures for several hours last night, I came to the conclusion there was nothing non-Biblical about the event. Demanding in the name of Jesus Christ for something to be done was taking the literal translation of Mark 11:22-23, "And Jesus answered them, 'Have faith in God. Truly I tell you, if you say to this mountain, "Be taken up and thrown into the sea," and if you do not doubt in your heart, but believe that what you say will come to pass, it will be done for you.'" So, the Pastor, through his faith in Jesus, was telling the cancer to remove itself from inside the woman. Asking for it to be done in the name of Jesus Christ allowed his fellow brothers and sisters to know and understand by what power he was asking for this act of healing (since healing can only be achieved by two means, by God or by Satan). What an example of this pastor's faith and belief in Jesus.

Today, as I look at all my medical appointments, tests and procedures, I feel like I have wasted my time chasing the wind. There are far too many things which happen inside us which can cause disease and illness. We still have not found a cure for the common cold or the flu, and now we seem to put our complete faith in researchers and doctors to find a cure for countless diseases which are far more complicated. This is where we all stumble--we put our faith in the wrong thing. God shows us again and again through Scripture, with one look or with one touch or with a few words, diseases can be cured. There are no pills to swallow, surgeries to endure or painful procedures to suffer through. Yet, through all His miracles, we still turn away from Him and put our trust in man. "I have seen all the works that are done under the sun; and behold, all is vanity and striving after wind. That which is crooked cannot be made straight; and that which is lacking cannot be numbered" (Ecclesiastes 1:14-15).

Some days as hard as I try...

Some days, as hard as I try, I feel like a complete failure. I try to figure out this disease; I try to find ways to live with all its complications, and yet, there are days in which my best efforts leave me feeling completely defeated.

Since the end of July, I have been fighting a respiratory tract infection. My last round of antibiotics was in February. A week after the antibiotics ended, I could feel the infection coming back. I have not directly sought medical intervention locally because I am always told the same thing: "Your chest X-ray is clear; you don't have pneumonia." During this time, I have also been fighting through pancreatitis. I have gone to the emergency department several times due to extreme pancreatic pain and nausea. Of course, my coughing and gasping for breath always arouses suspicion I might have pneumonia. A chest X-ray is ordered, but when it comes back clear, I am told I do not have pneumonia, and no treatment is given.

Of late, my trachea has become quite inflamed, making speaking and coughing very difficult. My trachea has swelled up around my trach tube, leaving almost no room for air to travel up around the trach tube, through my vocal cords and out my mouth.

Since I know nothing will be done locally, I am patiently waiting for my pulmonology appointment at the large medical facility 400 miles from my house. I would not be too upset about the difficulty breathing, talking and coughing; however, I live each week for Bible study. This last week, as hard as I tried to get through the study, I had to leave 15 minutes early because I could no longer speak and was overcome with violent coughing fits. My airways completely swelled up, leaving me coughing and gasping to breathe. Although I am very grateful God allowed me to get though almost all of the Bible study, I feel completely defeated that I could not get through the last 15 minutes. I know it is just an insignificant incidence, but I feel crushed. As hard as I tried, I simply could not overcome this respiratory infection; I could not overcome Mitochondrial Disease.