I went to the doctor…

First and foremost, I am not a doctor so everything I share should be taken simply as my own experience because it is not a professional opinion so never use anything I say as medical advice.

I had to check myself in to our local hospital a month ago because my doctor advised me to after all the recent blood tests came back with not so favorable results. (I was diagnosed anemic two years ago with a level 10 Hemoglobin. My physician at the time had me add an iron supplement into my diet to get me back on track and six weeks later I was declared “cured.” My level was healthy again.). Fast forward almost 2 years later and apparently the anemia is still active.

Generally speaking a normal healthy female hemoglobin level is 12 -15. (My hemoglobin red blood cell carrying oxygen) was dangerously low at 4. People can flatline at 3. So, I’m kind of a walking corpse. Nice. My love of zombie shows, movies and Spoiler Alert, I am a zombie. Minus the groaning. I went to the ER and although the ER gave me 3 units of blood and I immediately changed my eating habits from living to eat to now eating to live, like lots of spinach and red meat, my body is weaker than ever.

The last several months my husband immersed himself in research, looking for answers and asking, “what is going wrong with my wife,” as he worried I was wilting away to nothing. I was busy teaching and doing activities with our daughter. I was not by any means in denial about my ill health. I just didn’t want to deal with more stubborn-ass doctors with predetermined diagnoses. Perhaps I should have found a different doctor. My husband has been aware of the excessively heavy menstrual bleeding for a while. Being someone who tries to keep some things private between my husband and I, the thought of sharing my nightmare was on the horrific side. But I think he figured out some things when he heard me in the bathroom cursing at inanimate objects (pad failure). I should have invested a small mint in Kelly Clark. Because feminine products could have arrived in trailer shipping containers with the rate I was going. Understand I had to be prepared!

You might consider this fair warning to stop reading if you have a sensitive stomach or become queasy at the mention of blood.

But here’s what happened in the six months following the cured declaration. I stopped taking iron and I got weaker and weaker, thinking i was fine internally but because a doctor never said anything, I figured I was getting worse each day on my way out because of some other unknown culprit. That’s not suicidal. It was just a realistic acknowledgment that I thought I’d l ikely be gone before end of year with my list of health issues and all doctors pointing to MS before even asking questions or giving me the opportunity to explain my symptoms. I went to more than a dozen different doctor appointments in last 12 months asking questions and not one took the time to write up lab orders for blood tests because they already had pre-formed ideas or assumptions for what was going on. MS, anemia, osteoporosis… But what I consistently explained to doctors was that I’ve had MS almost 30 years and my symptoms do not physically feel like MS symptoms. And look this up docs, the symptoms are different and consistent with anemia. But because MS is the “bigger” health issue, no one has bothered to leave MS alone for a moment and focus on only the newer symptom stuff.

For example, I went to a lab appointment last spring and stepped out of my rig, and felt that gushing sensation (not urine, but menstrual blood) and got back in my vehicle to promptly return home and discover there was indeed an accident. A big one. Blood all over the back of my jeans. I just might need that truckload of supplies on an ongoing basis. But goodness, the truckloads I had to use. I got used to bleeding every 2 weeks with these obnoxious clots and assumed it was normal with getting older and probably indicative of menopause. Oops. That was yet another of Jenn’s misdiagnosies.

I made another appointment with my OBGYN and told her what was going on and after she examined and did some tests, she suggested uterine fibroids. She initially mentioned fibroids a year ago. I thought they might eventually go away. Oops. My bad again. The fibroids got worse. B also discovered with anemia, that might be the culprit when he came across blood disorders, anemia and fibroids in a search with bucketloads of responses, he said, Let’s make an appointment.” I needed a referral so I saw the first available physician at my clinic to get that referral.

But this time around at a new PCP, the physician I saw was different and she asked a lot of questions to understand how I determined I needed a hematologist referral. Because of my weakness in walking, I requested that B join me and he always provides wise insight as I explained everything going on. I explained my symptoms and that my weakness was increasing and I needed something to help me get better. Like today. A key component of this, that I didn’t realize was relevant is the fact I had some very very very heavy bleeding each month. And the fact that my periods lasted about 10-12 days apiece, and had a not so typical schedule of starting every two weeks, not 28 days. I was clearly bleeding about 24 days of each 31 days. Problematic. My body has been losing way more than it can possibly replace so it’s seriously no wonder that I have little strength to walk anywhere without losing my balance or falling. I can’t bleed one week each month like a normal woman. I have to bleed up to 24 days. About a year ago I gained the extra 10 days as my period bonus round. So, mathematically I was bleeding more than I wasn’t each month.

Back to the OBGYN who mentioned fibroids last year at my annual, but my failure was to not research or take it seriously. Those hell-raising fibroids are precisely why I’m anemic. She denied the possibility that anemia had any involvement with the uterine fibroids issue. One thing she did correctly was to give me a couple of referrals for surgeons. But the failure was her stating there’s no correlation between anemia and fibroids. But the surgeon said the fibroids and anemia typically go hand-in-hand. And when I was in the hospital, the physician asked if my periods were normal. Nope. They immediately scheduled a pelvic ultrasound to take a look at my abdomen, and see what they could see. Low and behold, there was something, but only doctors share the findings . The hospital suggested I make another appointment with my OBGYN. But instead, I got a call from a cancer surgeon a few days after I left the hospital. The scheduler said, “You have a mass” and scheduled an appointment with one of the physicians a few days later. Apparently there’s a reason receptionists are not supposed to say anything about anything. I shared with B what was said and between my family, friends and church, we likely have had close to 1000 people praying for me. The term “mass” leaves much to the imagination and by my own uneducated misunderstanding of a great many things, I figured I’d be dead before the end of the month with the mention of a “mass”.

We went to see the surgeon and she immediately examined me, said my uterus is the size of a cantaloupe, and went into scheduling a hysterectomy and she never mentioned “mass.” I asked if the mass would also be removed with the fibroids and hysterectomy. Is it cancer? I think she was confused and said she’d be right back. As she looked at my chart as she walked back into the room, she said, “there’s no mass, there’s no cancer.” Praise God! Because my level of worry made me sick. Literally.

Here’s the other screw-up…. The whole process of going to the ER, filling the prescription, taking the prescription, only to realize when I finally reacted with an allergy five days later from the blotchy skin, that I had hives despite the warnings all over my profile at the hospital as well as the pharmacy that I’m allergic to the primary ingredient in that particular iron product. It’s really a comedy of errors at this point with stinking everything becoming something. So it really has not been unreasonable to anticipate my life being over shortly by something ridiculously silly like a known but ignored allergy.

When I called the pharmacy and asked about the ingredients, that employee apologized immediately because she said they shouldn’t have sold me that and asked me to get some benedryl immediately to counteract the allergy. Everything else has gone wrong, so why not this too?!? The sales employee saw the flag, got a supervisor to override the allergy flag when she looked at it and the supervisor ignored the flag and sold it anyway. My poor husband. He was pissed that the pharmacy missed the flags. Then the supervisor called me and she apologized up and down after my husband had a conversation with her. I think he made her an offer she couldn’t refuse. Kidding. B never loses his temper when he is communicating a frustration with anyone. While he doesn’t yell or make a scene, I’m confident he shared his grave concern of the employee repeating her egregious error with another customer.

I guess God isn’t done with me yet. Because there were several opportunities in last five weeks for Him to figureatively “pull the plug,” yet here I am… thank you, Lord. The hysterectomy is Friday and I’m anxious to report what happens next.

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Strike 3 and the right parathyroid is outta here!

Said the Jenn 7 months ago in a blog draft immediately following the right parathyroid extraction surgery anticipating I would immediately feel better and immediately get to resume my routine. Yet, here we are and there has not been one noticeable positive change. I’ve retrogressed. Badly. So much so that in March I began to consider going to the Mayo Clinic as my last ditch effort to get fresh eyes on this situation as I’ve been determined to obtain answers. So, after filling out a ton of health background forms, I finally scheduled an appointment and reached out to my team of physicians to please provide whatever the Mayo Clinic needed. They agreed verbally, but when it came down to actually faxing my history to Mayo, they couldn’t be bothered. My neurologist, for example, got covid and almost died so unfortunately for patients like me, her priorities changed and following through on a simple commitment, in which she had a month to send the needed blood work treatment summaries information

The little culprit was taken out December 15, yet the last several months have provided an immense level of frustration. My ENT and I had placed so much hope in my health improving with the right parathyroid extraction. Imagine the disappointment of realizing I hadn’t improved. Of realizing the surgery was in vain. Of wondering if there are answers? And realizing this pile of horse-crap that I was handed might be the most and the best that the Jenn has in which to look forward…

Several months ago in March I began entertaining thoughts of going to the Mayo Clinic. Great idea, correct? I mean they’re world-renowned experts, right? My motivation was to get fresh-eyes on my situation. I have seen 3 Endocrinologists, 3 ENT’s, 2 Neurologists, 1 OBGYN (for that list of ongoing female issues) and a PCP and a naturopath in the last 12 months, yet not 1 had a fresh perspective or idea. Apparently they no longer encourage those physicians with fresh outside the box ideas like Dr. Gregory House to explore those anomalies which ultimately have a cause, but lack interesting substance or maybe it’s the ultimate motivation. Money. Perhaps doctors have written me off because of my health and that I won’t be around long enough to make it worth the effort.

The Mayo neurologist in Scottsdale definitely had a predetermined narrative. I shared everything that was going sideways with my health, when it began, etc and she had a pre- formulated prognosis. That I was experiencing PPMS. What?!? That still doesn’t make any sense. My regular neurologist had not even shared that as a possibility. Almost 28 years since the MS diagnosis in 1994, 26 of which have been symptomatic and under prescription treatment, so denial of this disease is not even in not even in the scope of possibility. Maybe your denial, but definitely not mine. Hypercalcaemia, osteoporosis, anemia, hyperthyroidism, Hashimotos, and then there are those pesky uterine fibroids that have no relation to PPMS that cause an obnoxious bleeding to excessive amounts of bleeding every month during my cycle for 3-12 days or however long my annoying Aunt Flo comes to visit. So how may I get answers to those questions, Mayo Clinic? But wait, expert Doctor, as I recall, you couldn’t be bothered to listen as you interrupted with your expert prognosis.

B and I packed-up and drove home with T after my appointment at the Mayo. We were both numb from shock, having anticipated a very different experience with hopes of driving away with positive outcomes and treatment options. I was not this round’s lottery winner.

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10 days and counting…

Which means a week from Wednesday, my ENT is surgically removing the misbehaving glands of my parathyroid, or at least removing that portion of it. Which he’s been doing for other patients. For 30 years. For patients who share a similar list of symptoms. I’m anxious to be rid of the nasty culprit. That has flipped my life in topsy turvy fashion, only to hide itself from being a team player and resist showing its entire self in medical photos. Even the best radiology center could not obtain pictures that revealed, nor was their biopsy conclusive of what was going on. However, the ENT continued to view and review a few particular images of the one gland he could see out of 4 parathyroid glands, which told him to do nuclear testing which made my parathyroid light up. No, I was not lit up like a Christmas tree. But, what my ENT saw as it was plainly bright, was enough to order several more tests to confirm his suspicions and order surgery following obtaining those additional tests to be completed as soon as possible.

The right parathyroid gland had a sizable dark spot that proved to be an adenoma. Although benign, my ENT said tumors still cause disruptions in patient’s lives because where there is 1 adenoma, there are often 2 so doctors check for another in all the glands when they do surgery. Disruptions like a patient’s gate change and hobbling around instead of walking normally, like testing positive for osteoporosis at a younger than typical age for diagnosis because her body decided to leak calcium, like the bone density scan additionally proved that because of the calcium loss, that my bones are losing density and could potentially become so brittle that tripping once more on the stairs could cause a broken bone or a few plus another few fractures.

My Endocrinologist understandably prescribed a calcium replacement drug that I started taking in June, but my ENT, whom I initially saw in early October, because of adverse side effects, wants me to stop taking the drug asap. When I was given the prescription, I did research and despite the risk to lose teeth and calcium, while also gaining calcium and bone density, I filled the prescription because there are other drugs out there that offer positive effects, but they also yield comparable negative effects. Six to one, half dozen the other…

That said, I am keeping December’s appointment to remove some of, if not all the parathyroid.

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Here we go…

This happens every year. This year I think the inauguration of Autumn baking thoughts happened when our daughter and I were watching B carve Halloween Pumpkins for our little family. But dancing skeletons evolved into dancing sugarplums. Or perhaps it was watching Charlie Brown’s great pumpkin that evolved into musings of pumpkin bread Christmas.

I love the distraction of post-Halloween plans. I mean I put up a few decorations for Halloween, and I think some decor is fun for the Holiday, but I see some people do an overload of focusing on evil and finding that humorous. For example, each year the neighbor behind us picks some dark theme and decorates accordingly. This neighbor is technically not on our street. But the upstairs master bedroom has a deck/patio that can view our backyard. Some years ago, with the rere-lease of It, for Halloween, the neighbor hung a massive decorative sheet from his upstairs bedroom patio so everyone at the end of our street, or anyone who dared take a detour down our street would have a clear leave nothing to the imagination view of Pennywise and all his bloody-faced glory, having no regard for little ones who might be traumatized by seeing a glimpse.

Unfortunately, when another neighbor asked them to take it down and to keep in mind those little and innocent trick-or-treater’s eyes who should be protected from seeing that, the neighbor saw himself as a self-appointed messenger doing everyone a favor and said, “Mind your own business, besides kids will see it eventually.” Lord, have mercy! We had the displeasure of seeing that nightmare one Halloween, but thankfully on the flip side, those same neighbors have not used their back deck since then to hang anything.

Now, I am not trying to portay myself as an innocent. I read Stephen King as a teenager and an early twenty-something, but my time reading dark literature was satisfied after I finished It. My late Granny took all five of the grandkids (I am the oldest) to the circus every year as youngsters when Ringling Brothers were in town, so I grew up liking clowns. However, the novel about Pennywise changed my appreciation of clowns and they ceased being fun. That novel really changed my simplistic view because apparently, clowns are not always happy.

Who can explain the nonsensical ramblings of a Jenn? Certainly not I. And that may or may not have any correlation to anything, When all of a sudden, my little brain thinks snowmen, more specifically, giggling about Olaf’s sweet ignorance of being a happy snowman in summer. And then there’s the fragrance of cinnamon inspired goodies like baking gingersnaps, pumpkin bread or snickerdoodles! Yum! Maybe it was because we had a short ‘bout of cooler temperatures, that reminded me of winter, though I’m about three weeks early… which then inspired me to think snowflakes again and cause me to bake because why wouldn’t I associate gingersnaps with autumn? They go together. Then winter solstice and just a few days later Christmas? Or maybe it was when my 2-year-old handed me a book to read her – the story about how that green thief who stole Christmas.

Praise God for all these distractions with my surgery coming up so there’s zero opportunity to fixate on worrying when I know God’s in control.

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One year ago…

My PCP diagnosed me with anemia. A few months later, I received the hypercalcaemia diagnosis from my endocrinologist, quickly followed by an Osteoporosis diagnosis and put on a drug that might cause me to lose a tooth or two. I want to be off that drug ASAP. Despite all the cumulative crap I’ve been dealing with since ‘17, I finally have a sliver of good news to share.

My endocrinologist at my July appointment basically threw-up his hands and said he’s sending me to an ENT because my symptoms don’t match my numbers, but he believes there’s something indicitive of a tumor, although the thyroid and parathyroid ultrasounds and nuclear medicine tests revealed nothing. My downward spiral of symptoms going from a pretty healthy patient (minus the MS) to going straight down a toilet as my gait in just a few months became that of a 90-year-old trying to be purposeful with each labored step.

Last weekend at church, as I walked to my vehicle and I heard someone behind me and glanced back to see who it was. The older gentleman has always reminded me of my late grandfather and I stopped so he could catch-up to me. He said he had never seen me walk so slow. I laughed and asked if it was really that noticable. Then he went on to explain how he’d always seen me actively chasing the little ones all over and then said he was keeping me in prayer. I tend to be guarded about sharing anything specific, but last Sunday morning, I was confident that the Holy Spirit put it on my heart to share with a few people at church that I was scheduled for surgery December 15 for a pararthyroidectomy.

My endocrinologist did send me to an ENT, who after viewing all the pictures, labs and radiology reports, sent me to another ENT. Well that ENT sent me to his ENT, who is head of the ENT department at the university in town and his MA was able to schedule me for an appointment to see him a week later. I told B I was tempted to cancel the appointment because I was tired of wasting my time and being referred and referred to another doctor, and another doctor, etc. B asked me to keep the appointment and if I still walked away after the appointment feeling dislcouraged and like I wasted my time, then we would seek other treatment. Funny how I get so frustrated that I might have some extreme tendencies to for example, jump off cliffs because it just makes more sense to me to do something drastic , ya know) and then B has this level of discernment that can reel me in and produce peace with a few words.

Well that ENT, about 60 seconds into the appointment, said he had viewed and studied the pictures of my parathyroid and explained he believed at least one part, potentially two of the four-part parathyroid had tumors. I asked him how long he had specialized in ENT studies. 30 years. Only 30 years!! Then he said, “ I’ve seen this before, these symptoms and pictures . I’m confident if we do the 15 minute surgery to take out the parathyroid, that you should start feeling better almost immediately in the recovery room.” And with those few words, those tear ducts started filling up. You might remember that this girl does not cry…. her eyes sweat.

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The end of the tunnel just became brighter…

When MS became more than MS with the unforseen truckload of additional health issues caused by the drug Lemtrada, I really questioned God and his faithfulness. I’m very aware there was never a guarantee that my life would be obstacle free. In fact as a Christian, it is a sure thing that God will allow trials for my own growth.

Having problems pushed me to know him better or have I reacted by becoming closed-up or anti-social?

As problems manifest, I have been prone to isolation. It’s way more comfortable than sharing anything for which folks will likely shun me anyway. So, in a sense I’m doing my future self a favor. Right? Totally. Except. God didn’t create any person to survive alone, but thrive with others to support, encourage, lift-up during times such as these. And there I was isolating myself at home, doing distance church from my iPad at home to avoid being a burden or a slow-poke with my cane or avoid questions like , “what happened?” from nosy-nellies posing as concerned people who care.

Ouch. Thank you, Lord for convicting me of being narcissistic and shame on me for doubting anyone’s intentions. That’s my normal reaction, but it dawned on me, (again thank you, Lord) last week watching church, that with all this crap going on with my health, that I have a fantastic testimony opportunity. And so after many weeks at home during church, but watching from a distance, I put on my big-girl pants and went back to church.

For an incredible reason. For B and I to have our two-year-old daughter dedicated at church. Didn’t I mention we had a foster child in our home? That we officially adopted at the beginning of August?

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Ongoing Variables

Prior to the five day Lemtrada treatment in ’16, a team of lab consultants and vampires phlebotemists took eight vials of blood along with the contents of my bladder to establish my base-lines for what my normal numbers were. My thyroid, and red and white blood cells were all completely within a normal range in that analysis two weeks prior to the Lemtrada commencement. Even with Multiple Sclerosis, all these were very much within the range labeled “normal.” I’m explaining this because the following will be somewhat of a brief meaning of the physiological changes that occurred following treatment. We knew of the potential side effects that could happen and from reading the disclosures, there were definitely adverse side effect occurances. With the information that MS could be eliminated through the treatment, I saw the treatment as a calculated risk.

Well, I became the Lemtrada anomaly. My neurologist received reports following those monthly labs to show how my body continued to respond to the treatment. About five months post Lemtrada my thyroid started showing things were changing so off I went to an endocrinologist who put me on medication to control the overcompensating hyperthyroid and a few months later, it became hypothyroidism for my underactive thryoid. Apparently my thyroid couldn’t make up its mind.

In the middle of all this the endocrin diagnosed me with Hashimotos, with vague instructions to stay away from gluten. I thought for a second that that was going to be easy to stay away! How silly was I? Once I researched gluten and found that it was in bread – I love baking bread – and that gluten is in so many of my favorite things {read as nearly everything} many candies I enjoy that include red licorice. But then once I became intentional to stay away from gluten for a month, which began in February 2019, things changed. Those chronic gut aches finally ceased. Over time, gluten-free has become more of a staple in grocery stores as gluten-free snack options are more available. While all these changes started in me and I needed to create my new normal , I was delighted to discover gluten-free snacks in stock with Amazon Prime. Did I mention Gluten-free chocolate covered pretzels?!?! Yum! Simply delightful.

Then a couple months later, the medication changed back to control my hyperthyroid’s overactive antics, but that didn’t go well but after all the nonsense, my numbers finally leveled-off. Then, of all the obscure causes why I didn’t respond well to the prescription, my endocrin said I was allergic to the dye in the prescription pills, so she wrote the Rx in such a way so my pharmacy filled the Rx with non-dyed pills. But then my encodcrinologist moved to Sweden and I was not responding well to the medication anyway so I opted to elimininate the idea of finding another endocrinologist. I didn’t really like her. My first appointment with her was weird. She asked many questions about when and how the MS was diagnosed and in that I explained that auto-immune was in my genes so it was definitely in my genetic make up to rear it’s ugly head. The doc’s take-away was telling me that I missed my calling to go to medical school and figure out why my MS was affecting me and why auto-immune put a target on my family or why Lemtrada screwed up my physiology. Apparently her playbook for me was to discover why I should’ve become a world-reknowned doctor who discovered a cure for MS. I’m not kidding or exagerating about one iota of this.

I would love to say I fired that doc, but timing was such that when I decided to not see this endocrin any longer, she went MIA over-seas. I took the opportunity to be in control, which I should’ve done at the beginning of all this nonsense and researched thyroid supplements and those most highly rated on Amazon. I read many reviews and ordered one supplement. I took for a couple months, but then after I decided that chronic diarhea, even as a temporary side-effect really sucked, I ordered a different highly rated supplement. And “Behold! No chronic diarhea? We had a winner!” Said Jenn after taking it for a month with no unwelcome side-effects. So with the supplement, I felt decent and have continued taking it for a few years now.

Then last September, my (now remember I had to agree to monthly labs for five years following Lemtrada.). Things started changing again with my physiology and my neurologist called and asked me to take a copy of my labs with me to see my PCP. What’s changed this time? I started feeling sick in mid-September ’20. Those labs said I was anemic. Apparently, as of February I’m no longer anemic, but if that’s true why am I still experiencing heart palpitations? Coincidentally, I just felt lousy. This coming December, it will have been five years since Lemtrada ended, but changes were still happening. My internal system has allegedly flushed the toxic chemical cocktail from my body, but things are going awry. For a couple years I put reading my Bible on hold while I was working through my anger at God for allowing our first foster placement after two years with us from birth, be sent to an unknown distant family member in St. Louis.

Perhaps the stress from that situation was another culprit for making my health go sideways. Whatever is going on, I feel like I’m in a fight for my life right now. My new Endocrin tested me for a list of about 25 things in December. A few of those things included conditions related to osteoporosis because with my initial intake appointment with him, he looked at my prior bloodwork and saw that in my urine, there is a high level of calcium, which isn’t normal. My body is leaking calcium. I’m too young to have osteoporosis. Which means I will need surgery to put a stop to this and have my parathyroid removed. I sought a second opinion and that doctor was in agreement that the parathyroid is indeed the problem child. I have an appointment for a bone density scan which should confirm the need for surgery and with the parathyroid removed, it should put a stop to the “calcium leak.”

https://youtube.com/watch?v=X1eMZWiOJ0a0&feature=share

Last June I began reading my Bible again and it’s timely that I am reading Job in the middle of my own health nightmare. God is faithful. I’ve seen and experienced healing in myself and others in years passed. But I’ve doubted him so much and prayed for my own end in order to to be rid of what I know will likely be temporary pain and discomfort. The pain and chronic discomfort that I’ve felt in the last six months is like nothing I’ve experienced before. God healed my MS in 2005. He healed my Dad’s cancer and continues to keep it away. So how dare I doubt his goodness?!?! One of B’s clients has a mom who is also a believer and she told my husband she had a dream about me and that she received a word that I would be healed. But like the Isrealites and their chronic complaining through the desert for 40 years for an 11 day journey, I have to keep my faith and remind myself that like Danny Gokey’s song, I “Just Haven’t Seen It Yet.” The light at the end of the tunnel has become faint, but I have to have faith that my struggles have not been in vain.

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I am a work in progress…

I was blogging with somewhat of a purpose, but then I started analyzing and reanalyzing every stinking thing I do and do not do.  I feel like a mouse trapped in a maze because I have been all over the map trying to figure out what my point is and answer the million dollar question of why do I do what I do? I’ve ultimately determined that my blog is for me.  When I began blogging some years ago. I had hopes illusions of reaching a massive following for those with MS and/or their care-partners and even more of those who were interested in knowing more about being a Christ-follower in the middle of battling a debilitating illness and trying to mainfain faith and trust that God was still good when my Multiple Sclerosis was spiraling out of control.

And it was. I went from being for the most part able-bodied and independent to having to learn to self-catheterize when I couldn’t empty my bladder on my own. Using a cane became obsolete when I had to graduate to using a walker and finally upgrade to a wheelchair all within six months … and back then in October 2001 when I was struggling in my position and could no longer do my job as a consumer loan officer, my neuroligist said I likely wouldn’t see my 30th birthday, which was still some years away. I’m briefly explaining all that to get around to my point that I am going to blog for me because I enjoy writing.  If anyone follows my non-nonsensical gibberish or rantings that get tossed around in my mind, then sure, I hope you enjoy yourself, are encouraged or at the least, can smile at something said, but don’t expect anything Nobel prize worthy. I’m writing for myself as it can be therapeutic. My story is not debateable because it is MY experience and I will not apologize for MY convictions. Consider that fair-warning.

As a Christian I do get mad, upset or annoyed when unexpected circumstances or events (like bad health) put a hiccup in MY plans. Really? Indeed. Because I am a control-feak extrordinaire, but am always trying to give up my own illusions of what I want and instead work toward fulfilling God’s plan for my life. I am a sinner. That’s not a badge, just a recognition that I am so far from being perfect. I have made some massive mistakes that years later, I still struggle with forgiving myself. I am a Christ-follower.  There is a difference because many label themselves as Christians, but they don’t have a relationship with God, pray etc.

Be confident that that is not a judgement of anyone because only God knows an individual’s heart. I am actively seeking God’s will for my life on a continual basis and although I mess-up many times every day, I try to stay on-track. I have a lot of Biblical head kowledge, but am trying to get myself to having more heart knowledge. That is not a pat on my back for ‘intentions’ because intentions do NOT count or provide any points for scoring if that’s how you grade yourself. 2000 years later, Jesus still remains the only perfect human. Perfection is impossble, but God is always at work in people’s lives to refine us into who we’re supposed to be for his purposes.

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You may remember…

I had mentioned/blogged some years ago about B and I being foster parents. I will review at some point the events that transpired between ’17 and ’18 when I think it’s the appropriate time to share… However, what matters most, right now, in this moment, is that we are still technically fostering, but we’re also in the process of adopting.

Our little was 2-days-old when the county called and asked, “You still have your crib available?” We gained custody directly from the hospital and the birth mom was entirely committed to being at every opportunity to see her baby and bond. About eight months later, rumors about Covid started gaining traction and by March, states began issuing the “Stay home” orders. Unfortunately, because of how quickly Covid was spreading, it was also necessary to close the visitation center where fosters and biological parents were meeting a couple of times per week.

I asked the case worker for the biological mom’s phone number and email so she and I could set up a weekly Zoom time so visual meetings could continue , which to make everything easy, was the same time I brought the baby to see her birth-mom at the center. The visitation center kept track of when all parties showed-up, so since they were closed, I kept a record of when I logged-in to Zoom meetings and when or if the mom showed-up. The heart-breaking thing is that of those twenty-some weeks opportunities to meet via Zoom, were available, the biological-mom showed less than 10 times.

Then last Fall, the expected court dates happened, TPR was finalized and the court declared to let us adopt. It’s been bitter-sweet. Please, don’t get me wrong! It’s been the most exciting thing for B and I to finally be this close to adopting. The sadness is recognizing that while T’s birth-mom has lost her daughter, we’re gaining a daughter. Thank you, God.

Bitter-sweet…

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I might need a wig

It’s been a while since I completed phase 1 of the #Lemtrada #MStreatment.  I started the Lemtrada early November 2016 and completed in five days.  With the many post-treatment symptoms I’ve experienced, I’d be lying if I said, “I have no regrets.”  I have asked myself, “Was it worth it?  Were those five days with an I-V an investment? #doubt  A small price to pay for a hopefully better, but not guaranteed future down the road?  And to be honest, I have gone through many dark episodes weeks of regretting my decision and desiring the opportunity to go back and do it over.  As if that was possible.  Well, I have regretted following-through and getting the treatment because of consistent lingering side effects like vertigo, muscle weakness, excessively painful tummy/gut aches and now hair loss.  In fact, my poor head is losing hair by dozens of strands each time I brush.  #chemo  I’m not joking about the chemo.  The Lemtrada is a diluted formula of it.  And those gut-aches?  They’re so painful, that at times I’ve prayed for God to bring me home to him so the pain will stop.  But #reminder it’s now been going on four months since I’ve had to give myself an MS drug injection.  Small blessings?  No!  Gi-normous #blessings.

That still remains the biggest adjustment as I’ve gotten out of the habit of doing shots, but I still question myself.  Have I have done my today?  No!  And then, “You’re done with shots, Jenn!”  I really do not do them any longer.  November 5 was the final self-injection.  Yay!  So, yes I regretted doing the treatment, but remind myself of the benefits.  1. No more injections.   2.  Rinse, Repeat to infinity and beyond.  3.  #Nuffsaid.  And then there’s the whole thing with my epidermis thanking me for seeking a different treatment.  No, really.  My skin and husband too, continually thank me as my skin has been able to work on returning much of its softness and a lot of its elasticity.  Yay!  #vanicream  Only the best facial moisturizer and body cream I’ve ever used!  Now here’s the really bad part…  But, before you read further, can you handle my open book?  My #honesty?  My #transparency?

With those aforementioned painful, side-effects lingering, I’ve doubted God.  I’m not by any means proud of my doubts during these rough times. I have questioned God about his goodness and good plans, which then causes me to question my own eternal status for questioning God.  #believe  Has my performance been up to par, Lord?  Have I doubted one too many times, #Jesus?  But I know better.  #faith  In Ephesians 2:8-9 NIV states, “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith – and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God – not by works so that no one can boast.”  A reminder that no one goes to the Father, but through him.”  I’m a sinner, but God is good.  Very good.  How dare I question whether I’ve earned his mercy because it’s freely given to ALL who repent.  #grace  So, I’ve failed to update anything in a long time because I haven’t felt very good in long time and lost a lot of hair.  I’m not bald, but my pony-tail over the last few months has diminished to about 1/3 of it’s prior thickness.  Reminder that hair can grow back.  I’m aware, I have nothing on those battling worse conditions, but please just stop comparing conditions because they are all so different.  Yes, some are worse, some are better per se, but when you’re in the middle of a chronic fight for your life at times, it’s challenging to see that light that’s become so faint, you almost miss seeing it, at the end of the dark tunnel.

Here’s what happened:  This morning I got up after having a really bad day yesterday filled with pain, self-doubt, about those alleged promises from #God, that will never happen (the doubts in my own head).  My mental state has been rough and this morning as I was getting Baby Girl ready for the day, I was pretty resolved to stop going to church, stop believing, etc. because I’ve become very weary in maintaining my faith.  It’s exhausting to smile when it seems pain is the new “normal” each day,  I know I should eat something, but there’s nothing enticing about any type of food, when I’ll likely throw-up again.

I want my life back.  I want to at least exist as things were prior to treatment, when I could walk only so far with MS, but it was predictable and I already knew that a short walk in the morning would require a half hour of rest, instead of the new normal to the rest of the day and the following morning.  A tad excessive?  I mean, come on, Lord!   This new normal sucks!  At least going into and following treatment, I had maintained my #faith through consistent #prayer and reading my Bible.  But after some weeks of dealing with pain, weakness  and queasiness, I became discouraged and my #prayer #Bible reading habits became easily dismissed most days.

Back to this morning, it was rough.  I didn’t have the energy to battle #Baby Girls’s one-year-old antics when we and by “we,” I mean I FINALLY got her through eating most of her breakfast after smacking the utensil full of food many times for those food donations to be clean-up by the dog, cleaned her-up and took her out of her high-chair and put down to walk on her own and play with her toys.  I finally had a #quiet moment #meditation to sit at my desk, while Baby Girl was playing just a few feet away, to look at my iPad.  The first thing that greeted me was a notification that showed me the verse of the day.  Hebrews 10:35-36 NIV, “So do not throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded.  You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised.”  Wow!  That was precisely what I needed.  #hope

God has fantastic timing, doesn’t he?  He’s always on-time and never late.  Just when I was ready to give-in to circumstantially-driven doubt, He showed up to remind me of these words I’d forgotten, but read many times throughout the years.  I needed to reread that and I’m so very #thankful to you Jesus for reminding me.  #peace

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