An Ugly Enemy

The Nitty Gritty

Who: Me

What: VEEG

When: Aug 8-12

Where: University of Alabama, Birmingham (UAB)

Why: TBD

 Fear is an ugly enemy.

 UGLY. 

 He sneaks into places that you think are comfortable, places that you think he is completely banished from. 

 He stays quiet and still, working underneath the world that is staying busy all around you. 

 He uses words that are not supposed to be his, actions that have nothing to do with him, waiting patiently for a moment when you are not prepared. 

 I hate fear. 

 I fight fear pretty well, most of the time. I have had a good bit of practice and some fabulous examples to help me along the way. Spiders and snakes don't really bother me now. Enclosed spaces that don't allow movement have become a beautiful space to pray. My hubby being far away, for long periods of time, encourages both of us to spend more time in The Word and to grow toward our Savior, and toward each other. Facing death with someone I love a whole stinkin' lot was rough, but Daddy went to be with Jesus and the girls he left behind are still an amazing team of strength, beating out the fear of the unknown together, all five of us. 

 But fear, and it's ugly, sneaky self, still finds a way to hurt me. 

 Memory is priceless. PRICELESS. 

 The Drew Barrymore movie, 50 First Dates, has some funny moments. A few that make you tear up. A lot of cuss words, just a heads up. But until you have looked that possibility straight in the face and considered that it could be you....well, until then, it is simply a movie. 

 Once you have looked that possibility straight in the face though- that your memories might cease to exist, that the people you love the most could possibly become strangers to you, that the children you would give your life for without a second thought and the man who makes you complete might not be the center of your world any longer - until you have looked at that and realized that it could truly be your story, you don't really understand. 

 Memory is PRICELESS.

 I lost almost all of two weeks in Aug. From the time I posted the FB prayer request for seizures, until the post I wrote on the 21st, nothing is solid. 

 I "recovered" from three seizures, responding to the questions the doctors asked, and recognizing "My Andy"- the first thing I could recognize every time, and a direct quote of how I described him every time- with passion but with no memory of it all. 

 My sister Kelsey and her crew came to visit me in the hospital- there is a picture of us eating popsicles-but that is all I have from that visit. 

 I came home from the hospital but have no memory of the work required to get the EEG glue out of my hair. I started taking a different dose of my meds, and apparently even filled my weekly medicine container myself. I assisted with cooking, and cleaning and laundry. I made an online deposit and paid several bills. 

 And yet, there is nothing there. Nothing. 

 "My Andy" and our boys have had to tell me these stories. 

 That is the place that sneaky little fear has attacked. The "what if" of losing my men. The "what if" of not being able to make new memories, or to hold onto old ones. 

 Fear is an ugly enemy. 

 I want to post Psalm 34:4 "I prayed to the Lord, and He answered me; He freed me from all my fears."... but truthfully I am not there yet. I am not freed yet. 

 However, I am clinging to the 23rd Psalm. "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for YOU are with me;" ESV  

 I am choosing to focus on my Savior being with me, even in the valley. TPT says "Lord, even when your path takes me through the valley of deepest darkness, fear will never conquer me, for You already have!"

 I am on His path, even when it is through a valley of deepest darkness. Fear can't win, can't conquer. That is enough. 

 That is enough. 

Brain surgery?

 I have been "sick" almost my whole life. Diabetes was diagnosed over 25 years ago.
 Sick is normal. Sick is just who I am. Sometimes I realize how different I am, but most of the time I just take it for granted. Perhaps everyone else does too? No one is truly average, right? We all have something that sets us apart. Something that makes us different than everyone else.

 I am struggling with what to focus on today, writing this up. Andy wants me to express myself more often. He wants me to share my emotions, like I did years ago on this blog.
 What is right to share? How much depth do people really want to hear?

 I guess I have this desire to be perfect. To only express the "right" emotions. So, what is right?

Strength... or the honesty of weakness?
Peace... or the honesty of fear?
Happiness...or the honesty of sometimes being overwhelmed with the lack of it?

 Joy, which is not happiness, remains constant. I would have not survived without the strength that comes from the Joy of Jesus being first place in my life. Happiness comes and goes.

 I suppose we should stick with some honesty.

 The IVIG, that I wrote about last (about 18 months ago) didn’t fix the seizures. It did, however, help me to stop throwing up, so I still celebrate it. We tried one other treatment with the doc at Emory, that I can’t even remember the name of, then, dad’s cancer came back and everything else, EVERYTHING, got placed in a back corner. We had almost three months of trying to appreciate every moment of life. Then we had at least three months of grief making life a blur.
 But, around June several of the people who love me most pointed out that I hadn’t been to the doc in far too long. Emory had done nothing to draw me back to them (they never called to say “where are you,” never emailed to say “we have meds for you”. Nothing) so I asked my family doc to place a referral to UAB.
 They got me an appt. on July first- the first day Andy was back from “camp”. Got me in the hospital for a VEEG observation Aug 8-12, and after getting to see three seizures, added me to the “pre-surgery” list.

 Yes, brain surgery.

I feel like I have spent all of September at UAB, or on the road between UAB and Troy. Andy says it is time to start writing about it. This is just the summary. I am going to try to write about what God is teaching me, what emotions are surrounding me, and what knowledge the medical world is passing along to me as we wait to figure this out.

 We are just waiting right this minute. More tests. More doctors discussing my brain. But maybe there will be someone else, somewhere else, who is looking at the same thing and needs to read about it.

 One step at a time.