Today is my two year anniversary: two years have passed since I lay, unresponsive, in the ER hospital bed before physicians heeded my nurse-sister’s advice that I was most likely suffering from an adrenal crisis and knock-knock-knocking on heaven’s door.
I remember being unconscious, yet I could hear people’s voices around me. I understand that hearing is the last sense to go. I remember wondering, “Am I dead?” Not for a moment was I afraid, reliving my life’s moments. I was calm. Completely calm.
Once the 125mg of solumedrol kicked in, I felt a SURGE of energy fill every cell of my body. My eyes popped open, and I said, “I can talk.” Then, more loudly, I shouted “I can talk!”
The curtain to my room whipped open, and my physician began a barrage of questioning: “What happened to you today? How do you feel?”
I told him, “I feel like I can run a marathon!” Yeah, my body’s amazing response definitely signaled this had, indeed, been an adrenal crisis.
My hospitalization was just the beginning of my health issues, including two years of battling crippling chronic pain, infections, fatigue, and overwhelm, as I collected diagnosis after diagnosis from an all-out autoimmune attack on my body.
These past two years have been the most difficult of my entire life, and believe me when I say I have dealt with a notable number of doozies. The worst part of these years has been accepting my own limitations, as both my mind and body continue, even now, to fail me. I have been more afraid, depressed, angry, exhausted, under attack, and physically weak than I have been in all of my other years combined.
On December 31 of each year, Shawn (my husband) and I have a tradition of getting “complete” with the past year, including celebrating personal goals we have met, acknowledging where we have more work to do, and making new goals for the upcoming year.
In 2015 and 2016, I was too physically exhausted (and disappointed) to do so; in fact, I was actively wrestling with God, questioning what in the world He was doing to my life, which, by the way, looked NOTHING like what I had formulated in my 5/10/20 year game plan. Instead, God was patiently and firmly chiseling away at the parts of me in need of a major overhauling!
This July, I stopped my Lyme treatment, which was making me too sick to function. I was dizzy, weak, and unsteady on my feet, tripping and falling almost daily, as the medication was causing methemoglobinemia.
Some people look back at times in their lives where miracles occurred, and they acknowledge, “Only God could have done that.”
When I stopped taking my medicine, my doctor informed me that doing so could cause a rapid relapse and return of symptoms. I prayed about that, and I clearly received the message, “Let this be the ‘only God could have done that’ miracle.”
Since July, I have had several moments, days, and even weeks when I felt sick – very sick – but I know that God has the power to heal me, and I am resting in His promise.
As I sit here today and complete these past two years, I am not limited by my feelings of sadness, anger, loss, overwhelm, exhaustion, depression, and weakness; indeed, these past two years, I have drawn closer to God than I have been my entire life. I have never before been this calm, peaceful, happy, grace-filled, blessed, hopeful, steady, inspired, strong in my faith, resilient, bold, courageous, creative, free, and certain that God has an enormous purpose for me and my life.
I cannot explain much of this process, as it has been so intimately interwoven into my life – moment by moment, day by day. I am being molded – melted down and made anew – transformed.
So, on this 2nd anniversary of the demise of the old me, I say, “Cheers! Hallelujah!” and “Thank you, God!” I declare my grieving complete, and I excitedly celebrate what God has yet to do to and through me.
I have moved from my head to my heart, from my strength to His, from offering my opinion to accepting His perfect plan.
Thank you, God, for this experience, for forgiving me so graciously, holding me so closely, and loving me so fiercely.
2 Corinthians 12:9-10