Today has been a day where small encouragements were given throughout the day. The first came through a very, very heavy heart this morning at church. I sat annoyed, and barely able to sing at all because I knew the words of praise would not be heart felt and honest. Somehow through the teaching this morning this verse stuck with me.
Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has gone through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are--yet without sin. let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.
--hebrews 4: 14-16
We left church and headed for the hospital.
While visiting Mom today, one of her nurses made a casual comment about how Mom reminds her of her Mom. I asked "how so?"
Apparently she had an aneurysm years ago. I asked if she had also suffered strokes because of it.
She said yes and all the doctors kept telling her family there was no hope for her. The strokes had left her in an almost vegetative state...just like Mom. They finally sent her home, and she told us that her dad said that wouldn't do. They were not going to give up. They began working with her. Slowly "like a baby" she learned everything again.
The nurse's mom was currently watching her grandkids and fixing dinner for her family.
Hows that for some hope.
A little dose of mercy...and It was just what I needed.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Friday, May 15, 2009
My beautiful Mother
This was a picture taken on the day Brad and I got married. She looked beautiful that day and this is one of my favorite pictures of her. There was intense pain in her heart as well as the joy she felt for Brad and I on that day. Just a couple of weeks prior to this picture, my mom lost her dad, my Papa. I miss him every day and cannot look at this picture without thinking about him. Now this picture takes on many bittersweet memories.
How's your heart?
How's your heart?
For years I have hated this question. I am not a fan of being vulnerable nor do I understand those that ask and expect you'll open up just like a book and lay it all down for them. So, most of the time I dodge this question and brush people off with a quick....I'm good. (or is it I'm well?...whatever.) But, one of the loveliest parts of marriage is that you cannot quickly brush someone away. They see you day in and day out. I've been a wreck. I know it, and my husband knows it. It is hard in a way to be a "minister's wife"...I'm not good at it and hate (a lot of the time) what comes with that job title. I like to run away...guess if I'm uncomfortable being open and honest, why should I put myself out there to be a person for others to be open and honest with?...and all the while with a smile on my face.
When trying to sort though all that I am feeling these days, I try to explain it and sort through it all with Brad. Am I crazy? Does that make sense? What do you think?....all questions that I pose daily to him. And, perhaps the toughest thing I've had to sort through these days is what I believe to be true about this situation and my God. I stumbled through the words yesterday trying to explain where my "heart" was. Then today I began reading a book that has sat of my shelf for years. I read the words I have been at a loss to use when describing where I'm at in all of this.
C. S. Lewis explains in A Grief Observed...
...where is God? This is one of the most disquieting symptoms. When you are happy, so happy that you have no sense of needing Him, so happy that you are tempted to feel His claims upon you as an interruption, if you remember yourself and turn to Him with gratitude and praise, you will be --or so it feels--welcomed with open arms. But go to Him when your need is desperate, when all other help is vain, and what do you find? A door slammed in your face, and a sound of bolting and double bolting on the inside. After that, silence. you may as well turn away. The longer you wait, the more emphatic the silence will become. There are no lights in the windows. It might be an empty house. Was it ever inhabited? It seemed so once. And that seeming was as strong as this. What can this mean? Why is He so present a commander in our time of prosperity and so very absent a help in time of trouble?
He goes on to explain the same fear I have...
Not that I am in much danger of ceasing to believe in God. The real danger is of coming to believe such dreadful things about Him. The conclusion I dread is not "So there's no God after all," but "So this is what God's really like. Deceive yourself no longer."
--Lewis (A Grief Observed)
There it is. All of you caught a glimpse of vulnerability from me. Honest. Real. I'm trying to find my way through all this. Christ is real...He has even questioned "why has thou forsaken me? But, it is still not easy to understand. So, I will continue to search and seek the one that knows me best...I just want to feel like He hears me.
For years I have hated this question. I am not a fan of being vulnerable nor do I understand those that ask and expect you'll open up just like a book and lay it all down for them. So, most of the time I dodge this question and brush people off with a quick....I'm good. (or is it I'm well?...whatever.) But, one of the loveliest parts of marriage is that you cannot quickly brush someone away. They see you day in and day out. I've been a wreck. I know it, and my husband knows it. It is hard in a way to be a "minister's wife"...I'm not good at it and hate (a lot of the time) what comes with that job title. I like to run away...guess if I'm uncomfortable being open and honest, why should I put myself out there to be a person for others to be open and honest with?...and all the while with a smile on my face.
When trying to sort though all that I am feeling these days, I try to explain it and sort through it all with Brad. Am I crazy? Does that make sense? What do you think?....all questions that I pose daily to him. And, perhaps the toughest thing I've had to sort through these days is what I believe to be true about this situation and my God. I stumbled through the words yesterday trying to explain where my "heart" was. Then today I began reading a book that has sat of my shelf for years. I read the words I have been at a loss to use when describing where I'm at in all of this.
C. S. Lewis explains in A Grief Observed...
...where is God? This is one of the most disquieting symptoms. When you are happy, so happy that you have no sense of needing Him, so happy that you are tempted to feel His claims upon you as an interruption, if you remember yourself and turn to Him with gratitude and praise, you will be --or so it feels--welcomed with open arms. But go to Him when your need is desperate, when all other help is vain, and what do you find? A door slammed in your face, and a sound of bolting and double bolting on the inside. After that, silence. you may as well turn away. The longer you wait, the more emphatic the silence will become. There are no lights in the windows. It might be an empty house. Was it ever inhabited? It seemed so once. And that seeming was as strong as this. What can this mean? Why is He so present a commander in our time of prosperity and so very absent a help in time of trouble?
He goes on to explain the same fear I have...
Not that I am in much danger of ceasing to believe in God. The real danger is of coming to believe such dreadful things about Him. The conclusion I dread is not "So there's no God after all," but "So this is what God's really like. Deceive yourself no longer."
--Lewis (A Grief Observed)
There it is. All of you caught a glimpse of vulnerability from me. Honest. Real. I'm trying to find my way through all this. Christ is real...He has even questioned "why has thou forsaken me? But, it is still not easy to understand. So, I will continue to search and seek the one that knows me best...I just want to feel like He hears me.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
and the brokeness continues....
Brad's grandma in Pittsburg has been given anywhere from a week to a month to live. We will be heading to Pennsylvania soon to visit and share Miles with her since she has not been able to meet him...or me in person. So...we'll just carry on day to day as our hearts continue to break a bit more.
yep, this is real
Sorry for those of you that check this blog daily in hopes that there will be new posts about Mom. The last few weeks have be a struggle for all of us. I have lost count of the days since Mom was admitted with her aneurysm, and for much of the last month, there has been little progress in Mom's healing. You are welcome to continue to check team bucklad as often as you would like. It makes us feel so wonderful to know that there are so many people caring about, praying for, and hurting with us as we go along this journey next to Mom. I will only be blogging about Mom when there is new news. So, it will continue to be random days that posts are made. Feel free to come and read...I may even start blogging a little about the Bucklad adventures along the way as Miles is growing and learning so much these days.
Yesterday was a big day. Chuck and I met at the hospital for a meeting with Mom's team of caregivers. This included all four therapists (speech, respiratory, physical, and occupational), her incontinence nurse, regular RN, pharmacist, and case manager. These meetings occur each week before paperwork is sent in to insurance. As I explained earlier, Mom can stay at the Select Care hospital on a week by week approval. This meeting allows all her caregivers to discuss where they feel Mom is in her recovery process.
Respiratory explained how they were trying Mom out with a cap on the trach. This was to test her ability to breathe completely on her own. The only oxygen Mom is receiving is through a tube that goes under her nose. The team wanted to see if Mom was able to clear her own airway as needed by coughing. It was strange hearing her cough for the first time. Up until now, her coughing was silent because of the trach. In a way it was like hearing her voice.
Then the rest of the therapist began to chime in. First, they asked about what we, the family, had observed. We shared little glimpses of awake time, smiles, and puckered lips. But, for the most part, we shared about the hours spent in her room with no response at all. They agreed. Then one at a time shared how they viewed Mom's prognosis as poor...
The likelihood of recovery is slipping away each day. And now, being six weeks after the strokes. The fact that there is no substantial action from her, is generally a sign that this may be all we get. This is how Mom is now. How she most likely will stay. It is not a vegetative state. However, it almost is. The doctor explained that sometimes this is worse. We have no idea what is going on inside her, if she is even "home".
Now, they told us that the rumors that came with her from the ICU about reading and responding was just optimism and doctors and nurses wanting to believe more was occurring than actually was. Me?...I believe that she was doing it all and was making gains. I also think that the last couple of weeks she has regressed some. So, I don't know if I fully am ready to "give up"...not that her current doctors are either. They are just sharing how it is.
What we need to look at now is what could be next.
--Mom is not coming home.
--She may live the next 30 years in the same state of mind she is in now
--She most likely will be moving to a nursing home...not a rehabilitation facility
--As a family, we may have to make a decision on continuing aid that keeps her alive. (feeding tube, antibiotics for illness like pneumonia, breathing machines if the need arises....) we may. It is not there yet, but the possibility is there that it could get to this.
I write this more broken hearted than I have ever been in my life. I have a hole that is so deep it takes my breath away when I stop to think about Mom. I cry most days and want to hide from people that reach out. I don't want to talk about the situation...in fact I don't want people to ask how Mom is doing...it just feels like people are trying to make casual conversation. At the same time I am hurt when they don't. I feel like there is not a person who understands how I feel (though I know that's not the case) When it's not sadness, it's anger. I get angry at innocent people I encounter daily at the store, work, etc. for no reason other than I have anger I just need to let out. How can you pretend that the world is not falling apart? Don't you know it is? Don't you know that nothing is ever going to be the same?...Now hand me my coffee, or move your stupid shopping cart out of my way!
So here we all are. As a family, we are hurting and all dealing with this differently. Our hearts are breaking as the stronghold of our family is slipping away. We have been slowly watching our Mom, wife, daughter, sister, and friend fight for her life for 50 + days. We are worn out and mourning at the loss of who we have always know her to be. We are fearful of the next steps. Most of all we are so empty inside. Hope is hard to come by. Faith is difficult to have. We want her back.
Yesterday was a big day. Chuck and I met at the hospital for a meeting with Mom's team of caregivers. This included all four therapists (speech, respiratory, physical, and occupational), her incontinence nurse, regular RN, pharmacist, and case manager. These meetings occur each week before paperwork is sent in to insurance. As I explained earlier, Mom can stay at the Select Care hospital on a week by week approval. This meeting allows all her caregivers to discuss where they feel Mom is in her recovery process.
Respiratory explained how they were trying Mom out with a cap on the trach. This was to test her ability to breathe completely on her own. The only oxygen Mom is receiving is through a tube that goes under her nose. The team wanted to see if Mom was able to clear her own airway as needed by coughing. It was strange hearing her cough for the first time. Up until now, her coughing was silent because of the trach. In a way it was like hearing her voice.
Then the rest of the therapist began to chime in. First, they asked about what we, the family, had observed. We shared little glimpses of awake time, smiles, and puckered lips. But, for the most part, we shared about the hours spent in her room with no response at all. They agreed. Then one at a time shared how they viewed Mom's prognosis as poor...
The likelihood of recovery is slipping away each day. And now, being six weeks after the strokes. The fact that there is no substantial action from her, is generally a sign that this may be all we get. This is how Mom is now. How she most likely will stay. It is not a vegetative state. However, it almost is. The doctor explained that sometimes this is worse. We have no idea what is going on inside her, if she is even "home".
Now, they told us that the rumors that came with her from the ICU about reading and responding was just optimism and doctors and nurses wanting to believe more was occurring than actually was. Me?...I believe that she was doing it all and was making gains. I also think that the last couple of weeks she has regressed some. So, I don't know if I fully am ready to "give up"...not that her current doctors are either. They are just sharing how it is.
What we need to look at now is what could be next.
--Mom is not coming home.
--She may live the next 30 years in the same state of mind she is in now
--She most likely will be moving to a nursing home...not a rehabilitation facility
--As a family, we may have to make a decision on continuing aid that keeps her alive. (feeding tube, antibiotics for illness like pneumonia, breathing machines if the need arises....) we may. It is not there yet, but the possibility is there that it could get to this.
I write this more broken hearted than I have ever been in my life. I have a hole that is so deep it takes my breath away when I stop to think about Mom. I cry most days and want to hide from people that reach out. I don't want to talk about the situation...in fact I don't want people to ask how Mom is doing...it just feels like people are trying to make casual conversation. At the same time I am hurt when they don't. I feel like there is not a person who understands how I feel (though I know that's not the case) When it's not sadness, it's anger. I get angry at innocent people I encounter daily at the store, work, etc. for no reason other than I have anger I just need to let out. How can you pretend that the world is not falling apart? Don't you know it is? Don't you know that nothing is ever going to be the same?...Now hand me my coffee, or move your stupid shopping cart out of my way!
So here we all are. As a family, we are hurting and all dealing with this differently. Our hearts are breaking as the stronghold of our family is slipping away. We have been slowly watching our Mom, wife, daughter, sister, and friend fight for her life for 50 + days. We are worn out and mourning at the loss of who we have always know her to be. We are fearful of the next steps. Most of all we are so empty inside. Hope is hard to come by. Faith is difficult to have. We want her back.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Mom update
Mom was moved to the Select Care hospital at Forsyth. She has her own room and a nice little view of the roof and shopping mall. The nurses seem nice and the environment seems a bit more at ease.
Mom had a good couple of days where she was awake for longer periods of time. We have been able to bring Miles in to see his "Nana". He has been bouncing on her bed and grabbing at her hand. It has been fun to watch. I see Mom smile at him often. Her smiles are not the smiles I have been used to seeing all my life, rather a slight turn up of the corners of her mouth. She has stopped responding to written commands. At this point, we are not completely convinced she is reading after all. I hope she is, but the doctors and nurses have not seen it happen. In fact, they have not seen much at all. The doctors report to Chuck that after a week there, Mom has not really shown any improvement as they thought they would see.
I don't know where this leaves us.
Select care operates on a week by week approval. My hope and prayers are that Mom shows some signs of improvement...enough to continue to stay there and get therapy. She has all different kinds of therapists...respiratory, physical, occupational, and speech. Surely she will improve in one of those areas.
Mom had a good couple of days where she was awake for longer periods of time. We have been able to bring Miles in to see his "Nana". He has been bouncing on her bed and grabbing at her hand. It has been fun to watch. I see Mom smile at him often. Her smiles are not the smiles I have been used to seeing all my life, rather a slight turn up of the corners of her mouth. She has stopped responding to written commands. At this point, we are not completely convinced she is reading after all. I hope she is, but the doctors and nurses have not seen it happen. In fact, they have not seen much at all. The doctors report to Chuck that after a week there, Mom has not really shown any improvement as they thought they would see.
I don't know where this leaves us.
Select care operates on a week by week approval. My hope and prayers are that Mom shows some signs of improvement...enough to continue to stay there and get therapy. She has all different kinds of therapists...respiratory, physical, occupational, and speech. Surely she will improve in one of those areas.
How does "real" feel?
So, things have been feeling pretty real these days. I find that I am fine one minute then crying the next. I so deeply desire to be posting great and wonderful news about our first spring as a family, the fun we are having, and the new things we are experiencing. However, this spring has been one hit after another. Sorry it has been over a week since updating....I'm going to take a moment to be open and vulnerable with you for a sec. In addition to Mom (which I will be updating shortly), more is going on with our family...Please, please do some prayin for us. We are just so worn out these days.
1. My Uncle (Mom's brother) had multiple strokes last week and spent a short amount of time in ICU. He seems to be doing better and recovering fine...in fact he was released from the hospital earlier in the week. It just hits close to home with Mom and now Uncle Tommy.
2. Brad's grandma in Pittsburg has been admitted to the hospital again. Her cancer has returned and she will likely be staying there indefinitely.
3. Brad's dad has become another casualty of this economy. He was laid off last week...and only a few years before retirement!
4. Granddad Pierce (Chuck's dad) has had his alzhiemers hit severely and cannot remember the simplest of things. We don't know what has caused this to change so drastically. He was in the hospital for some tests last week after a few incidences occurred at home. Initially we assumed it was strokes (yes him, too) but, tests show it wasn't.
5. Statesville Young Life is in deficit (another effect of the local economy) Giving is down. Like most ministries, the difficulty experienced with raising support, effects Brad's paycheck. Which is scary since we decided last year that I should quit teaching and stay home with Miles thus making us a one income family.
So yeah. Here we are. I'm not gonna lie and say things are easy and fine. Because they are not. I'm sad most days, and want to be alone more often times than not. Miles brings joy but, I experience life right now only as days with him or at Mom's side at the hospital. I miss her. I want to talk so badly to her. Everywhere I turn I am reminded of some experience with her or some conversation we had. I wish she could know how Miles is doing, how we are all doing.
I thought when she was diagnosed with cancer (almost nine years ago now), was the hardest season of my life. I was wrong. I keep remembering reading years ago about the "dark night of the soul" (Celebration of discipline) Foster tells about St. John and how he explains the dark night as something that's not bad or destructive. On the contrary, it is an experience to be welcomed. It is to set us free..a devine appointment. The dark night is one of the ways God brings us to a hush, a stillness, so that He may work an inner transformation upon the soul.
I have been reminded of this every day this spring. It hurts. I know that I belong to Christ. And, what is my job here?...To glorify Him. To enjoy Him in his presence. How do I do that?...I am being shaped and formed to be more like Christ everyday with this experience. I don't want this. It's not easy. I'm tired, hurt, and frustrated.....and feel lost in the midst of this. But, I want to glorify Him. It's just painful.
Who among you fears the Lord
and obeys the voice of his servant,
who walks in darkness
and has no light,
yet trusts in the name of the Lord
and relies upon his God? (Is. 50:10)
1. My Uncle (Mom's brother) had multiple strokes last week and spent a short amount of time in ICU. He seems to be doing better and recovering fine...in fact he was released from the hospital earlier in the week. It just hits close to home with Mom and now Uncle Tommy.
2. Brad's grandma in Pittsburg has been admitted to the hospital again. Her cancer has returned and she will likely be staying there indefinitely.
3. Brad's dad has become another casualty of this economy. He was laid off last week...and only a few years before retirement!
4. Granddad Pierce (Chuck's dad) has had his alzhiemers hit severely and cannot remember the simplest of things. We don't know what has caused this to change so drastically. He was in the hospital for some tests last week after a few incidences occurred at home. Initially we assumed it was strokes (yes him, too) but, tests show it wasn't.
5. Statesville Young Life is in deficit (another effect of the local economy) Giving is down. Like most ministries, the difficulty experienced with raising support, effects Brad's paycheck. Which is scary since we decided last year that I should quit teaching and stay home with Miles thus making us a one income family.
So yeah. Here we are. I'm not gonna lie and say things are easy and fine. Because they are not. I'm sad most days, and want to be alone more often times than not. Miles brings joy but, I experience life right now only as days with him or at Mom's side at the hospital. I miss her. I want to talk so badly to her. Everywhere I turn I am reminded of some experience with her or some conversation we had. I wish she could know how Miles is doing, how we are all doing.
I thought when she was diagnosed with cancer (almost nine years ago now), was the hardest season of my life. I was wrong. I keep remembering reading years ago about the "dark night of the soul" (Celebration of discipline) Foster tells about St. John and how he explains the dark night as something that's not bad or destructive. On the contrary, it is an experience to be welcomed. It is to set us free..a devine appointment. The dark night is one of the ways God brings us to a hush, a stillness, so that He may work an inner transformation upon the soul.
I have been reminded of this every day this spring. It hurts. I know that I belong to Christ. And, what is my job here?...To glorify Him. To enjoy Him in his presence. How do I do that?...I am being shaped and formed to be more like Christ everyday with this experience. I don't want this. It's not easy. I'm tired, hurt, and frustrated.....and feel lost in the midst of this. But, I want to glorify Him. It's just painful.
Who among you fears the Lord
and obeys the voice of his servant,
who walks in darkness
and has no light,
yet trusts in the name of the Lord
and relies upon his God? (Is. 50:10)
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