Two weeks ago, I wrote this blog post:
So, for about the past week, I've been struggling with a big o'pile of ... well, struggles.
Physically, I've had a seriously hard time breathing. Like, seriously hard. Finally, last night my friend Julie came and took me out to urgent care in the middle of the night.
On the way there, we got a flat tire, and because she was driving her son's former car which is lowered, it had to be towed. My husband was a superhero and came to wait with the car while we took his to the urgent care.
by the way, I may or may not have said a bad word when we found out the tire was actually flat.
Thank you, Julie, for not judging me.
On the way there, she asked me if I think I'm having such a rough week because I'm trying to do too much. I'm sure that's part of the trouble. Because she's been with me this week (and is a facebook friend like many of you are) she knows the stories of me forgetting to pick up the high school carpool the day after I locked my keys in the house and had to walk to do the 5th grade carpool. She knows that I've spoken at a MOPS meeting, gone to a 20th reunion planning meeting, been planning big projects at work, and dealing with some big emotional issues.
I could use this paragraph here to explain to you what the burdens on my heart are, but sadly, part of the reason they feel so burden-y is because they're not public stuff. I'm constantly aware of the the fact that I'm still morning the months-ago loss of a friendship, that we still aren't settled about some bad health news for a family member, and I'm reeling from some shocking news dredged up from the past and stirred around a bit. It's not major stuff by any means, but it is real and hard and ... exhausting.
So, when we got to the urgent care, I expected the doctor to send me home with the typical, "rest, drink fluids" lecture. Instead, he was worried. My chest was so tight, he wondered why I hadn't been in earlier. He gave orders for a chest xray, a breathing treatment, and a shot of steroids to get me to breathe a little better.
So glad to have a friend with me, one who wouldn't run screaming when the nurse let me know that I would be taking that shot in the 'bottom', AFTER I had just brought Julie in the exam room to hang out while I took my breathing treatment. aaaanyway.....
The result was that the shot hurt, the breathing treatment turned me into a shaky bundle of nerves, and the xray turned out fine. I was sent home with a bunch of prescriptions and the instruction to come back if I felt any worse.
So, today, I'm hanging out here in my bed, dozing in and out of consciousness, my chest feeling like my bigfatbeagle is sitting on it...
I didn't finish it, and decided not to publish it, because I thought it sounded all doomy and gloomy and I don't like that kind of post, so I decided to wait until I felt better.
Except I didn't get better.
I've been back to the Dr. since. I don't want to even go into all the test and prodding and horrifying things, except to say this: If people don't know how to draw blood, they shouldn't stick other people with needles several times, dig around for a while, call another friend who can't draw blood, let them dig around a little, and then call someone who is awesome and who can do it on the first try. Instead, they should do something else for a living.
Anyway, the good news is that I do not have a pulmonary embolism. I now look like a battered woman/iv drug user with trackmarks making pretty colors all over my arms, but apparently no embolisms. So, I have that.
I also still can't breathe.
But I mostly can't stand listening to myself whine any more. It's time to suck it up and press on. I can't just lay here waiting to breathe. While I'm waiting to be healed, I'm checking into everything I can, praying about ways to slow down a little bit, resting up, casting more cares upon Him, and waiting for a response to see if I can get an appt with my primary care physician before DECEMBER. In the meantime, I intend to focus my eyes on God's word. The Bible reminds us that everything that has breath can praise the Lord. It doesn't say 'Let everything that breathes well, praise the Lord'- so I'm going to just praise Him with the breath that I have.
Last week, when I was looking for that everything that has breath scripture, I found another one that just keeps turning over and over and over in my heart...
(this is the part when I apologize for a long, rambly, rusty blog post and promise to return soon with something much more organized and far less gloomy)
Because he bends down to listen, I will pray as long as I have breath!
Now, is it just me, or does the picture of our Heavenly Father, lovingly bending down to listen make you just breathe easier?