Riding out the storm

As some of you know, I’m on a bit of a medical journey these days. I’m not going to go into detail here (yet). 

In the past 3 months, I’ve had an ultrasound followed up by an MRI. I have been in the middle of borderline-aggressive self advocacy with my doctor’s office to schedule an angiogram, which is the step required before I can take the next step. I’m a do-er so the wait portion of the process was unbearable. I have a lot of grace in the medical field since I work with insurance as well, but a few “middle men’s” slow pace and occasional incompetence were killing me as I squeezed in phonecalls and such during breaks between treating my own patients. Did I mention I'm a "do-er" who appreciates immediate results?

I wish I was kidding, but my hair was nearly falling out. My head looked crazy with what looked like cradle cap. I was restless at night. I have faith, I do. I just came off a year of tangible miracles. Still, my humanness shined through and the stress captured my thoughts and health. I said I believed that all of this would be okay yet I still stressed daily to the point of depression, and I mean a spiral down the darkest hole. I let my anxious mind move me forward to uncertain places. I was so many steps ahead of reality. There’s a fine line between preparedness and craziness.

One day, I realized that I just couldn’t do it anymore. I had prayed, but I had not REALLY prayed as I should. It was that day, in my car with tears rolling, that a single heartfelt prayer changed everything. I just gave it all up. It was the kind that came from deeeeeeeeeep down inside. I would still think about what I needed to in order to jump the next insurance or medical hurdle, but I’d only focus on the current information. I acknowledged I’d been doubtful. I knew grace covered that. I also knew that it was okay that “humanness” took over because that’s what I am. I just restated all of my emotions ranging from what you think is “holy” and appropriate to say to the Big Guy all the way to what you think is “no one remotely ‘religious’ would say.” All of it was okay. I knew this. God wanted to hear it. This is our relationship. It’s real. He already knows my thoughts so why not acknowledge them? My scalp, which had turned into a weird mess, cleared. My mind cleared to focus on happy things, such as wedding planning. I just didn’t feel the worry. Gone.  All of it, gone. It crossed my mind, but as in technicalities and not realities or worries. 

My angiogram was scheduled for Monday Feb. 3. I was a bit anxious about it—just thinking of the details and procedure but I no longer had fear. In addition to my prayer of release, a parent I met through work connections, to whom I am so soo soooo thankful, had walked me through a lot of the medical procedure and process. She had researched doctors and given me input. I was much more at ease about a lot of things after conversations with her. She’s a busy mom, yet she always had time to answer a medical question, investigate a new or possible doctor on the case, etc.

[K.D. I could squeeze you with appreciation as D. and I squeeze each other, that’s how much I appreciate you! But don’t worry, I’ll refrain]

 I knew it would come out fine. I no longer thought of the significant risks of such a procedure. My divine gift of comfort came the day before the procedure. It was like the cherry on top of my “few worries” worry-free high.  On Sunday, I woke up as usual and when I sat down to breakfast, I started thinking of a boat. I had a very specific image in my mind of what the boat looked like. I wasn’t sure what it meant but I sat for the longest time thinking of that boat which led me to think of stormy waters. I saw the waves as my circumstances and how I had not maintained my eyes on Jesus as much as I should have. I had started to focus on circumstances that I could not change or help and those are what prompted the downward spiral. Point taken. I got it, loud & clear. Then, Luba & I rushed off to church. Our lead pastor, Dave, began the sermon on Mark 4:35. Ok, now I really got it. This message was for me, directly to me, unbeknownst to anyone else. Here’s the passage (Message version):

^35-38 Late that day he said to them, “Let’s go across to the other side.” They took him in the boat as he was. Other boats came along. A huge storm came up. Waves poured into the boat, threatening to sink it. And Jesus was in the stern, head on a pillow, sleeping! They roused him, saying, “Teacher, is it nothing to you that we’re going down?”

^39-40 Awake now, he told the wind to pipe down and said to the sea, “Quiet! Settle down!” The wind ran out of breath; the sea became smooth as glass. Jesus reprimanded the disciples: “Why are you such cowards? Don’t you have any faith at all?”

⁴¹ They were in absolute awe, staggered. “Who is this, anyway?” they asked. “Wind and sea at his beck and call!”

It was a reminder, as Dave G said, that storms come, but Jesus is in the boat with us. We ask questions stemming from our humanness. Jesus rested despite the storm. Even though they saw him sleeping WITH them, the disciples still feared. In the end, he calmed the storm, well- along with a “tsk tsk” moment with the disciples. It served as a reminder for me that I’m not alone—physically and spiritually. No circumstance is too big although it feels overwhelming to me. He wouldn’t rest or “stand by” while I sink in my situation, circumstances, worry, etc. We are in this boat together.

And we were. We still are.

The angiogram went as expected. The results were clear. There are so many comical blog posts that could come from those hours in the hospital. My word for the year is revealed more and more but nothing says “vulnerability” like a day in the outpatient surgery recovery unit. OR-when you are in the early days with your partner and don’t even care what he sees IN the recovery room as you are half dressed in that sexy backless blue gown that you don’t have the energy to clasp together as you hobble, IV intact, groin throbbing, to the bathroom, thankful that you didn’t have to use the bedpan as threatened if you had to go within 3-4 hours after angio. I had plenty of time to think through all of this after the angio as I lay flat (not even picking my head up) for hours. It was hard to be this view for 3 hours until I could sit up:

More to come….

Thanks for continued thoughts, well wishes, & prayers!

Danielle