HOME! The Real Miracle

Ex. 28:17 "And thou shalt set in it settings of stones, even four rows of stones: the first row shall be a sardius, a topaz, and a carbuncle: this shall be the first row."

Home, The Last Five Days of Rehab: The Stones

Monday came. Ray and I were awakened because she had dialysis that day. They woke her, dressed her, and had her ready for pick-up. On her ‘D’ days, she was grumpy and irritable, talking and cursing under her breath, swearing she was going to find a new home. I had the feeling since she had been there for three years, this was the best place she could find. I didn’t get all of the details on her that I would’ve liked but I knew enough to know, she was settled and she was staying. The nurses loved her and that was truly important in this place.

I woke because well, they’re pretty noisy in getting Ray dressed and ready and I want to grab someone to help me before they leave, so I was always awake at five a.m. This morning I would once again wait to receive my medications but I realize that this is the norm for this place, you get them when you get them. 

Today was the day that my voice was going to be heard, about my meds, about the disaster that happened Saturday and how this place is a pit from hell with incapacitated elderly people sprawled throughout. There were some who actually walked but honestly, the only one that I saw was Santa! But they already knew all of this and it’s really not telling them anything they don’t already know.

From around the curtain popped the one nurse from Sunday that I knew, Cathy and the aide Sondra. Cathy asked if I’d had my coffee yet today and when I said no she ran and got me one while Sondra cleaned up the previous trays from the day before. I told them that I’d be leaving this place by Friday if I could and they were like, “Awww, but you’ll be missed!” I told them that this place was becoming too traumatic a journey for me and a hindrance any healing. They both nodded and understood completely.

My physical therapy consisted of some leg lifts and exercises to prepare my leg to bend. For too many days my leg had stayed straight and felt like it would never bend again but I knew, in order to get out, I would work on bending my leg, one gentle step at a time. While physical and occupational therapy lasted a half hour tops, I worked out five times a day. My right arm was becoming stronger and stronger and helped immensely when I needed to push myself back on the bed.

Today was about Jacki and Erikka. Jacki was one of the administrators of the building as was Erikka. When Jacki came in she said she wanted to hear my side of the story about Saturday because she had heard everyone else's side. She also wanted to show me a stone. A precious purple stone, so shiny it lit the room. I looked at it and thought of Santa and his words of wisdom, ‘looking at the stone reminded me of looking at a million mountains’. This stone was chiseled from someplace special I could tell. She let me hold it and then she sat it in the sun in the window. “I can only loan this to you for the day but I want this to lift your spirits.” I had tears in my eyes as I said thank you. I always had the ladies laughing and she knew I was not in a good way this day, she knew I needed a lift and at this moment God used her to bring a beautiful stone to lift my spirit. Don’t judge me, I needed EVERYTHING I could get in that place to lift me up!

When Erikka walked in a little later carrying a bigger rock, a multi-colored stone that looked like it jumped right out of a scene of a Superman movie, I cried. Why is God bringing me these beautiful chiseled stones or is satan taunting me. I was so weak I could not tell so I prayed, for wisdom and knowledge that would lead me in the way I should go. The one main thing I received from these two visitors was the realization that I had allies in this place of doom, they were the ones who would see me out the front door! 

The nights of darkness enveloped me and sealed me in a cocoon. The voices, the shadows all played like a kaleidoscope in my head. I was hurting mentally and physically and all I had to cling to was my God in the most powerful way, alone and being tried. The stone sat in the window cove with my hospital treasures awaiting the sun so the brilliance of colors could shine through. The clouds and rain kept the stone from its glory.

We had a dilemma this week. For me to get home, I would need a ramp built so I could get into the house. Everything IN the house was already handicap ready. The other thing I needed was to get my leg bent! No matter how much I was fighting to get out of here, I could go nowhere if I couldn’t get into my car.

Erikka came into my room, sat on the side of the bed and whispered in her soft angelic voice, “Just say the word, and I can have you home today.” Erikka was a thin beautiful woman with sunrise orange hair pulled on top of her head. She glided in the room so as to look like she was floating. Sometimes her hair was flowing down her back over her modest vest of a matte color, eyes as blue as a cloudless sky.

Through tears I explained the dilemma, my leg needs to bend and we need a ramp built. I could taste home. Although I forgot what the back of the house looked like, how my flowers circled the house the last time I saw them, my Sassy dog was no longer there to greet me and Riley, the guys said, was playing hide and seek, she KNEW I wasn’t there. AND there was the fear of what home held for me. Joni was in need of a miracle!

After two weeks of discussion about a ramp being built and the cost, it seemed it just couldn't be done. Worry swept in like a Texas dust storm! They will not release me until they’re sure I have everything right at home. Steven had already taken on so much with taking care of me and running back and forth getting me stuff, he was now frazzled and ready for the hospital himself, just a different ward, if you know what I mean. Then in stepped his brother. Apparently, mom had contacted him, told him of our troubles, he contacted hubby and the only day he had off work to do the ramp was Wednesday, he could get the ramp done in a day! Now, all we needed was the weather to comply.

We had five days straight of cloudy, rainy, chilly weather after the day of me sitting in the sun seeing Santa. Forty-degrees and wind is pretty chilly, no, downright cold! I needed a miracle! Hubby was looking at the weather on his computer and he said that it looked like I’d get my miracle, a break in the weather for ONE DAY, Wednesday! It would be in the seventies! I thought, yeah, that will be a miracle.

Wednesday came, the SUN rose and peeked in my window, it reported loudly that today I’d get my miracle! I waited, I had coffee, I chatted with the nurses and assured them with great certainty that Friday I would be released! They hugged me, told me how much they’d miss me, we laughed and we cried, and we all commented on how I was the little miracle of St. John’s nursing home! 

By afternoon the day had topped out at eighty some degrees! The ramp was finished, paid for by his brother, and a pic was sent to my phone so I could show the Administrators of what this little miracle was capable of. They all agreed, Joni would be going home on Friday! Ray was mighty sad because ‘we’re fwends, right?’ I’ll never forget you, Ray! 

The one lady who saw to it that I got into this place kept telling me that my insurance had agreed to pay for another week if I needed. I laughed so hard I woke Ray up from her nap. “No thank you, I AM GOING HOME!”

On Thursday the cool temps and clouds returned, I readied for my Friday release! In the wee hours of Friday morning when I pushed the button for a nurse to bring me my meds, around the corner came Erikka, the beautiful angel who only worked day shift! She came in to do night shift JUST FOR ME! 

“Joni?” she whispered in her ever soft voice.

I sat straight up, I knew the voice. I tapped my dim light and saw her aura shining, “Erikka? Is that you,” tears came too easily when she said yes and sat next to me on the edge of my bed.

After giving me my meds, she went on in her whispering voice, “I brought you a healing stone,” she went on, “this stone was broken in half, in the morning light, you’ll see the crack and how it healed itself!”

Tears were now soaking my face and dripping down my chest. I grabbed for a kleenex, I was speechless. “You came for ME?” 

“Yes,” she said, “I prayed for you, for what to give you, I bring you the healing stone.” 

Our eyes met, mine blurred from tears and her blue eyes were brimming, with joy. She pressed the stone into my hand. “I might never see you again.” I squeaked out of my hoarse voice.

“Oh, I think you’ll see me again, you can fly!” With a tight hug and our farewells, she was gone.

Friday sunrise came and it was release day. I could’ve gotten out at nine a.m. but I chose to wait for Ray to come back from dialysis. The nurses were shocked to say the least, that someone so eager to get out, would stay, just for Ray. I stayed! Ray came back, peeked around the curtain and with her last, “Whacha doin’?” I said to her, “Waiting for you!” I gave her the last of my chips tied in a purple ribbon, her favorite color! 

The nurses came in, said their goodbyes and tears were shared by all. I made an impact on every single person I came in contact with during my ten-day stay. Hubby got the car ready, emptied my room of my contents, as I looked at the trays from the prior day and the full commode from that morning I whispered, “I won’t miss you!” 

I was wheeled to my car, passing nurses as I went, I waved with the biggest smile on my face to date… I was going HOME! 

Solar Eclipse from 8-21-17

1 Kgs.10:2 "And she came to Jerusalem with a very great train, with camels that bare spices, and very much gold, and precious stones: and when she was come to Solomon, she communed with him of all that was in her heart."

Josh. 4:8 And the children of Israel did so as Joshua commanded, and took up twelve stones out of the midst of Jordan, as the LORD spake unto Joshua, according to the number of the tribes of the children of Israel, and carried them over with them unto the place where they lodged, and laid them down there.

1 Chron. 29:2 "Now I have prepared with all my might for the house of my God the gold for things to be made of gold, and the silver for things of silver, and the brass for things of brass, the iron for things of iron, and wood for things of wood; onyx stones, and stones to be set, glistering stones, and of divers colours, and all manner of precious stones, and marble stones in abundance."

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good life! 

Rehab Continues: Sunday Came

Matt. 14:14 “And Jesus went forth, and saw a great multitude, and was moved with compassion toward them, and he healed their sick.”

Rehab… Sunday Came

Sunday morning came with the flooding of lights as we woke up. Ray and I slept all through the night and I didn’t even wake for any pain meds. The night shift was leaving and the new shift was coming in and the girls stopped by before shift change to apologize for the bad night. It was NOT their fault! The administration should have been made aware of the short staff and other aides should have been in place. Today came, as did new nurses!

As the new charge nurse came with meds, I explained I needed some crackers, I hadn’t eaten. I went on to tell her about the prior evenings' atrocity and her sympathy poured out like water from a pitcher. She said, “I’ll be right back.” And she came right back too, with a styrofoam bowl full of packets of crackers. She even came back with a cup of coffee, something I had not been offered since I arrived.

She went on to remove the breakfast, dinner and lunch trays from the day before and then proceeded to give me my meds and read my vitals. She also moved the gait belt from in front of the TV so I could watch. She opened the curtains for me and commented on the chilled gloomy rainy day. I told her that to me, every day was a sunshiny day! 
She offered, “I’ll be here all day until six, (I assume a twelve-hour shift) if you need anything just ask for Jan, okay sweetie?” I melted, the good Lord sent someone. I prayed and prayed and He sent someone!

I turned the television on and began watching the morning sermon by Charles Stanley. I’ve always liked his sermons and was glad he was the first show I saw of the day. Cable TV did not impress me in the least. For the week I usually watched rehab shows, where they remodel homes. Ray liked Dancing with the Stars, a show I usually have a gag reflex to, but she turned it so loud I was forced to turn my TV off when it came on. Other than that she would watch game shows.

Then, anxiously, I clicked for a nurse, in minutes two nurses walk into the room. (if they’re tending me, I call them nurses, they earned that title to me) One was a young blonde named Sondra. I told her my son went to school with a Sondra. After small-talk, I found out she had been in the same high school as my son and actually rode the bus with him every day. The older woman, maybe about thirty-seven (older than the twenty-year-old) said she had worked in the cafeteria of his high-school. Now God has really got my attention! What are the odds?

After our dance to the commode and more gossip, I was feeling like my old joking self. I told them of the night before through tears, mind you. I had to put something funny in there or this day would be full of tears. We shared stories, the ladies laughed, I laughed, I had a feeling I would be peeing a lot that day.

My husband would arrive later in the day to hear of the story of the night before as he sits once again, through another bout of my tears. He brought me some BK onion rings to brighten my day, so I wasn’t feeling too bad if I could eat onion rings. He also brought me a box of a medley of chips. He knew I had nothing to snack on at the 5 am wake up, he thought this would help a little. He did try everything to see that I was made comfortable but he had no control over the tears I would unleash over the next couple of days.

Ray had heard the bags of chips as hubby placed them in my side-table drawer. Like a magnet she was drawn to the chips, she wheeled over and peeked around the curtain, with a bright smile as she did every day to greet me at some point in the day and asked, “Whacha doin’?” Ray loved chips! This was her vice. She hid them in her drawer and I would hear the quiet crinkling of the opening of a bag, then the soft munching so as if not to disturb me.

“Putting these chips away that my husband brought me. Do you like chips?”

“Yeth, I thure do.” Her lisp was now growing on me, her smile infectious, the light of joy that she exuded was admirable!

“Would you like a bag or two? What kind you like?” 

“I like them Fritoth, and cheethy oneths too.”

I held up a bag of green onion potato chips, bar-b-que chips, and Fritos. “You like these?”

“Oh yeah,” she said moving her chair as close as she could into my tiny little corner of her room. Her wheelchair could only reach the bottom of my bed. She reached out as I handed three bags of chips to her and her smile lit the room. I didn’t need sunshine on that rainy day.

The physical therapist had come by earlier that day and I told her of the not-so-lovely night before too. I just couldn’t resist. Everyone that came through the door heard my side of the story. The PT lady was the weekend PT because it seems even physical therapist get a break. She was originally from Farmer’s Branch Texas and we bonded over neither of us being from Nebraska. I told her I lived in Texas for six years, she squealed, “Get outta here!” I said, yeah Dallas, close to Farmers Branch. We had a nice visit, spunky chat, and a handshake as she parted. I’d never see her again since my new plan was to be out of the place by weeks end!

As for Ray? Every person that came in the room that day all she could mention was how nice her roommate was, she’d whisper, “She gave me CHIPS.” Emphasis on the chips! Ray was the best part of this nursing home by far! Now… to look forward to getting out of this place.

The Story Continues: A Ray of Light

Ezek. 37:1 “The hand of the Lord was upon me, and carried me out in the spirit of the Lord, and set me down in the midst of the valley which was full of bones,”

A Ray of Light

Darkness had fallen upon the nursing home after my husband and son left, when from around the curtain to my left rolled in a woman. 

“Whatcha doin? My name ith Ray, I’m your roommate.”
“Hi Ray, nice to meet you.”
“What time do you go to thleep?” she said in her lispy voice.
“About nine.”
“Me too. Do you like it dark?”
“Yes, I don’t mind the dark,” I said with a smile.
“I like the curtainth clothed, do you?”

Ray was a bit older than me at sixty-three but had the mind of a child. I’ll say a fifteen-year-old because she did have some intelligence as I got to know her over the next ten days. She too was immobile and needed a mechanical lift to get her in and out of bed. She had bulging blue eyes and the electric smile of innocence. Her gray hair was manly, tight and straight but well kept. She told me over and over how she loved purple and everything purple as she pointed to her pajamas. She would be one of the elements of light that God shined down on me. 

The first night I was there my dinner came at seven-thirty. To me, it was almost time for bed but I was hungry. I had not eaten since lunchtime (twelve o’clock) that day. I think my first meal was Salisbury steak with a biscuit and mashed potatoes and a small glass of water. Water, water was scarce for the next couple of days.

I brought with me a big thirty-two-ounce cup of water from the hospital. The hospital gives them to patients and well since I was so toxic, it isn’t like the cup could be reused. I took little sips because I did not look forward to peeing in this place. I could not yet put the dinner tray over both of my legs, so it was at an awkward slant over my right leg. The trauma of anything touching my wounded leg scared me to bits. I didn’t cover it in a blanket because the slightest brush of anything left me with a tinge of pain. 

My medication was due at seven and had not yet arrived and at eight-thirty when Ray pushed the button for the nurse, I asked when I would be receiving my meds. The young nurse said the ‘pill tray’ was on its way down the hall. I asked if she could help me to the commode after she was done with Ray and she said yes, finishing up placing Ray in bed with the ‘lift’, she said, “I’ll be right back in a minute.” And she left the room. 

She came back to the room at nine-fifteen with another young nurse and they were both wearing yellow protective coverings and gloves, in one hand was a gait belt. The gait belt was placed around my waist and it was used to help lift my tiny eight-eight pound body. One nurse to my right and one to my left hand, both had hands gripped on my pained hips in a two-foot space, they lifted. I always counted so we could be in sync. One, two, three, lift, small grunt, and pivot. Imagine three women in a two-foot space trying to pivot. The gait belt was a necessity so as to avoid liability in anything breaking.

“Please, hold the belt until I’m completely seated. This is how my left femur became broken, a sloppy seating on the commode.” Tears began running down my cheek as the tragic incident flooded my mind. Embarrassment, pain, vanity, all danced around in my head as I was gently seated. They removed their gowns and left the room for me to urinate. I was pushing the nurses' call button as fifteen minutes on the commode was leaving my limbs numb. They returned, put on a new set of yellow gowns and gloves, and lifted me, pivot, and I sat on my bed and was ready to just sleep. I jokingly thanked them for the dance. It was my sense of humor and personality that kept these young ladies smiling as they took care of me for the next week.

Curtains were drawn lights out. I cried quietly because I honestly was afraid to be alone. My husband had spent the ten days at the hospital with me and this place barely had sitting room for my two guests. I was alone, except for my prayers and my roommate, Ray.

“You okay?” I hear in the darkness, it was Ray.
“Yeah Ray, I’m just lonely.”
“I get like that thumbtime. Itth okay to cry. What time do you get up?”
“About five for me.”
“Yeah, me too. I go to dialithith.” I drifted off a little as she continued talking, ever so lightly, but it was comforting in the darkness. “Okay, goodnight.”
I opened my eyes a second and whispered, “Goodnight, Ray.”

I was startled awake at about one o'clock as the bright lights came on and Ray was being tended to. I called out, “Can someone get my pain meds for me and I need to pee, too.” 
“Sure Joni, let us take care of Ray first okay?” 
Okay, thank you.” 
She went and got another nurse after calling down for pain meds for me. They gowned and gloved up and came around the curtain to help me. 

I was on twelve-hour oxysomething but allowed ‘2 booster pills’ for pain if needed. And being startled awake and moved around, I certainly needed the pain medication still at this juncture of healing. It had only been eleven days since surgery. The pill lady was a different nurse, she was called the ‘charge nurse’, I guess because she was in charge of the pills? Maybe the nurses too, I don’t know. She took my vitals while she was there at two o'clock so she didn’t need to wake me at three to do it all over again. Everything normal (except me) and with a ‘I hope you sleep well’ after shutting the lights off and closing the door, she was out of the room.

“That feelth better,” I hear Ray say on the other side of the curtain.
“Yeah, it sure does,” I whispered.
“Okay, goodnight.” 
“Goodnight Ray”

Jer. 29:11 “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.”

The Story Continues...Miracles To ME!

Isaiah 26:9 (NIV) “My soul yearns for you in the night; in the morning my spirit longs for you. When your judgments come upon the earth, the people of the world learn righteousness.”

Miracles to ME

The staff that I had surrounding me during my hospital stay was quite amazing. My office oncologist paid me a quick visit when I first got to my room after the femur surgery. I would then be turned over to his colleague oncologist who works at the hospital, Dr. Biscuit. (I will not use real names!) 

Besides Dr. Slim, the surgeon who did my leg, one of my miracles was my oncologist who showed up at the right time in my journey. Remember the ER doctor gave me an oncologists name? It was Dr. Biscuit, I did not see him for my initial consultation. Dr. Bradley was the office oncologist who put me on oral chemo. Dr. Biscuit was all about IV chemo being the ONLY healer and I only met him AFTER I was in the hospital and already a patient with a protocol with Dr. Bradley. 

Dr. Biscuit and I never saw eye-to-eye in the beginning. His philosophy was one thing (slaughter/drugs/chemo), mine was the other (natural)! And you know who was whom, and you probably get a picture of who won. Dr. Biscuit is the one who WRONGLY put me on a stool softener, a steroid, something for indigestion, just a bunch of unnecessary drugs! After a bad night of stomach upset, (I won’t go into the gruesome details) I had a talk with the nurse about the DRUGS I was taking, she then put me in touch with Dr. Biscuit to straighten this pill mess out! 

I DID NOT need a stool softener! I drank tea in the morning, a NATURAL stool softener. He also had me drinking Ensure, another form of laxative! I told him NO, along with my pain meds, I wanted my vitamins A, B12, C, D3, and my oral chemo, that was it! It got changed very quickly I might add. Too many people just accept that the doctor knows what is best. A doctor DOES NOT know your body OR how it will respond. My body KNEW something was wrong with all the drugs and it let me know, too!

Then came Dr. Leeb, he was a radiologist. After a lengthy discussion with Dr. Biscuit, my husband, son and myself, Dr. Leeb would be the administrator of the radiation. NOT TO MY BREAST, to the spreading pain/cancer in my shoulder, and hopefully put a halt to what was spreading in my hip, the one that had surgery. The other hip, so he says, is too far gone, but we’ll start. Okay, all in agreement! Five days of dragging me across the bed to the gurney (in pain) to the x-ray table, then drag me to the radiation slab, then back to the gurney and back to my bed/room. This was hell in itself, but I endured. I’d also endure ten more days of radiation on my leg, from the nursing home.

My room number was 3203 by the way - my birthday - 3 23. Another top question was, ‘what is your pain level?’ On meds it was a four-five, on the dragging me all around days, the pain was at a 7-9. MY BOWELS ARE FINE!  Yeah, I was tired of that one but… little did I know, a reaction to the oral chemo I was taking, was vomiting, diarrhea, lack of appetite, and skin changes. Peeling ugly pink skin. NONE of which I had, and that PUZZLED the doctors. I was in the rare 30 percentile of ‘not affected’. Good to know two weeks into the DRUG intake.

After the doctor and I were on the same page, we got along better. He came in one day with his how are you doing, any changes banter, then he said something, yes, to ME a miracle was taking place. His exact words were, “After reviewing the x-rays and bloodwork, and upon physical inspection, it seems that the oral chemo is working. Whatever we’re doing is working.” My lymph nodes were shrinking, my tumor was shrinking, my x-rays were showing physical signs of my leg healing also. All was good. Little did they know that not for one moment was I attributing the Chemo drugs to being the reason I was healing. 

You see, all of that was happening BEFORE I started the Oral Chemo, but the OC I believe sped up the healing, along with my vitamins! I may be onto something. We had a discussion about my protocol and he had mentioned that the people in Europe reacted the same way to the Oral Chemo as my body was reacting. In America, 70% of people were having adverse reactions and THAT is why they were not recommended. I told him it all had to do with my diet and nutrition! His comment? “Are you going for a Nobel Prize here? A conference of doctors have already surmised it was the diet but we hit a dead end.” HA! I’m onto something friends! Believe it or not, I was having a positive effect on him also. His final words to me on his last visit was ‘Godspeed’! 

Another incident I had was with a wound care nurse. She was sent to change the dressing on my breast. As I had told you all in previous posts, that my breast leaked and therefore after bathing it with saltwater, I placed a non-stick gauze over it to protect my garments. Since entering the hospital I had not changed the gauze and I knew I was in the best place for it to be seen and taken care of. I told her it was ugly before she proceeded to take off the gauze. She said, “Oh my.” I was taken aback and asked, “Is it that bad?” She replied, “Not at all, it looks GOOD. What were you doing for it? I know you were taking excellent care of it, that’s for sure.” A deep sigh of relief washed over me. I told her about the saltwater bathings. She agreed that it looked well taken care of and that she had seen much worse case scenarios with breast cancer patients, so yes, to keep doing what I was doing. We’ll take the best care of it we can here, she said, and they did take the best care THEY could. 

Then there was the Palliative nurse, Jan. She was the nurse sent to be on my side and didn’t allow the doctors to bully me, but remember she works FOR the hospital. She was a semi-tall sweet woman with short bobbed blonde hair. Her voice was very soothing and relaxing and I felt comfortable telling her anything. She visited me daily, allowed me to cry on her shoulder, offered options to heal, and didn’t allow doctor Biscuit full reign of the floor.

One day I was sitting in the recliner (as opposed to being bedridden) and Jan upon seeing me, smiled, she was pleased with my progress since seeing me the day before lying in the bed. She said to me, “I have a little something for you,” she put out her hand and offered me a small book and went on to say, “This randomly fell onto my desk yesterday out of the blue as I was going through stuff on my shelf. I looked at it and thought 'who would benefit from this, Joni' that’s who.” It was a book of daily prayers and affirmations. I smiled, I cried and offered her a hug. Such a dismal reason to be in the hospital but God saw to it that Light was brought to my door on a daily basis! I tried to offer the book back before I left the hospital, thinking it was on loan but she said, “Oh no, you keep it, that book was meant for you when it fell on my desk!”

Then there was the visit from a clown. Yes you read it right, my mother-in-law and I were just sitting there chatting and my husband had gone home to shower and in the room walks a clown. “Would you like a visit from me and my friend?” She was holding a stuffed monkey. I had tears in my eyes and exclaimed, “YES! I need a visit to cheer me up, no offense, mom.” Daisybug the clown went on for twenty-five minutes of corny one-liner jokes to make my day. God really does know me and knew what I needed to cheer me up!

The list goes on and on of the miracles that happened those twenty days I was away, and this list is just some of the ten days I was in the hospital! I had wonderful physical therapists who visited daily and would leave me with exercises to do myself and I would leave them with laughter and smiles. That is what made me so strong in ten days to be released. I had attentive nurses and one day an intern stood for an hour detangling my long hair that had gotten itself knotted in just a couple of days.  I was being transformed from immobile to mobile, from bedpan to commode mode, from weary and teary to beautiful laughter and smiling. It was now time to be released. A single flower from my vases was handed to nurses, doctors, interns, physical therapists, home health aides, cafeteria workers who brought me food, and even the cleaning ladies! Anyone who helped me in any way, I gave to them a smile and a gratitude flower. My work here was now complete.

Psalm 95:1-2 "O come, let us sing unto the Lord: let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation. Let us come before his presence with thanksgiving, and make a joyful noise unto him with psalms."

The Story Continues: Hospital Stay ~ Flowers Arrive

Pss. 96:6 "Honour and majesty are before him: strength and beauty are in his sanctuary."

The Story Continues...The Hospital Stay

The aftermath wasn’t so bad, in the beginning. I woke after the operation back in my room and my husband and son looking over me with pale faces. I could see the worry and stress dripping from their eyes. His mother was in the waiting room as I had requested because I just wanted my first loves to be what I saw when I woke.

Today I’m going to write a bit about my hospital stay. The second or third day (remember, I lost all sense of time) flowers started coming in. My son had told my niece about me being in the hospital and she being the sweetheart that she is, put a post on her/my (blood)family FB page. My two long-lost brothers sent flowers and balloons, my mother and sister sent flowers as well as two of my nieces. I do remember having to wait to tell my mother what happened to me because she kept ringing my phone incessant with worry, causing me undue stress in the process. Finally, my son had to call and tell her I was in the hospital. I only used my phone for hubby and son. I couldn’t move anyway so the phone was just a comfort artifact for a couple days. This post may seem choppy but I'm trying to get it all out there.

My husbands' mom gave me flowers in a beautiful deer coffee mug and the cutest softest dog ever! My niece posted a link to the gift shop at the hospital. My sister sent up from the gift shop a precious stuffed dog. And I received two angels too! And balloons, I received balloons attached to stuff, just what, I have no idea. I now have two stuffed dogs that I named Riley and Sassy! 

My husband, well he brought me a ton of stuff, a cross necklace, a single cross that in the center crystal stone when looked at in the sun, the serenity prayer is written! No kidding, it’s pretty awesome! A coffee mug that says ‘Good morning, Punkin’ with a small pumpkin in the cup. Halloween was nearing (I had no idea) and ‘punkin’ was one of his pet names for me. Over the ten days he had to bring tons of stuff from home and the store, so no I can’t list it all, but this man really came through for me, his broken woman and the confused man that he had become. He also brought the beautiful prayer quilt that my mother-in-law’s church had made for me and prayed over every stitch as it was being made. 

My son, he brought to me White Roses, in a vase. Not real ones he said because they die. He also gave me a Squirrel and a bluebird since I couldn’t sit and look at my birds and squirrels at the feeder at home. He also gave me a plaque, a wooden wall hanging that had two ‘wings’ (angel wings?) and the words ‘Believe you can’! He arranged everything so nicely at the window for me, and my husband draped the quilt over the back of the sofa.  All of the nurses (and docs) commented on the beauty of ‘love’ that I was receiving! 

My room was being filled with treasures and I was essentially just lying there staring at them, immobile, in pain and every shred of vanity and dignity tossed out the window. By the second or third day, I was getting more comfortable in the place. I’m not sure if it took that long for the drugs to wear off but the days seemed endless.

The bright room was a nice size all for myself and the usual monitoring machines. There was a studio style sofa in front of the window whose cushions unfolded into a bed for a family member if needing or wanting to stay. Steven stayed all ten days. He’d go home, take a shower, grab a bite to eat and bring essentials back to the hospital for me. He missed too many days of work for me and the poor fella was run as ragged as a war-torn handkerchief. His mind to me, looked like a jigsaw puzzle scattered on the floor as he tried finding all the pieces to go in the proper place as we went along on this journey. It was tough on all three of us. This wasn’t just a journey for Joni to learn and GROW.

For the next ten days, I was miss popular as were my bowel movements and my birthday! Those were the questions asked daily, the birthday one was asked with every nurse visiting the room. I was also known as little miss toxic. If a nurse helped me with the bedpan they had to gown up and double glove. If they handled my oral chemo pills they had to wear gloves. Funny how I was not told of the toxicity of these pills they handed me. I handled them like they were aspirin. My room was labeled outside with the skeleton and crossbones, listing me as a toxic commodity? 

With each nurse and or doctor that entered the room, I made them leave with a smile. In only ten days I had built relationships with the nurses, x-ray people, the radiation men and women, doctors, even the women who mopped the floor and emptied garbage pails. Not one person left my room without a smile on their face. 

The doctor who did my surgery, whom if you remember, held my heel for an hour before getting my leg to straighten out, it turned out he was from Colorado and would be returning home at the end of the week. He told me that he would be leaving Nebraska a different man than the one who came. He visited me daily and on the last day, handing him a rose, I told him to, “Always smile!” He stopped by before leaving for Colo. bidding me goodbye. He didn’t have to stop by but I’m assuming as a changed man, he wanted to. 

After bantering back and forth with the oncologist about the toxic port kind of chemo (who was the colleague onc. I missed at the office), we finally saw eye to eye when my tests, x-rays and my response to the oral poison was in my favor. Everything with the oral chemo was working. Tumor was shrinking, lymph nodes physically smaller than before. I was eating normal, bowels normal, skin normal, all in all I was a model patient. He had no argument seeing I surely didn’t look or act like a Stage 4 cancer patient! 

Talk of putting me in a nursing home/rehab came up at the end of my 'welcome' and I didn’t want to go but the insurance was not going to allow me much longer in the hospital. I don’t know why I couldn’t rehab in the hospital but then I guess the journey would have been pointless. When Portia came in and told me (as I’m eating my delicious lunch meal) that they found me a spot in the nursing home/rehab and I’d be transferred at three o’clock that day. My face drained of all blood. I suddenly wasn’t hungry. More tears puddled the sheets and filled the wastebasket with kleenex. Change. That week I think I could’ve built an ark to float away on all of those tears I shed. I closed my eyes and silently prayed. Portia was sitting right in front of me and my husband to my left. She gets a call, “Oh. Uh huh, Uh huh,” She looks at me and says, the room won’t be ready until tomorrow. Talk about prayers being answered! I kicked once again into the ‘accepting whatever God turns my way’ woman. 

With each doctor, nurse, Physical therapist, palliative nurse, or janitor that came through the door that day they received a carnation, daisy, or a rose to brighten their day and as a token of remembrance of me. While they expressed how sad they were to see me go, they smiled and thanked me for my kind gesture. Only one grumpy nurse (she was young too) turned down my gesture with “I have no place for a flower.” I knew she needed prayer the most.

Nurses have so much to contend with on a daily basis, that I wanted them to know that there is one person that appreciates all that they did for me. While my three vases thinned out of flowers, I sat in reflection of the ten days I was there. The room emptied for a few moments and I was alone in silent tears. I gazed out the window, a monarch butterfly passed by, all the way up on the third floor. Must’ve seen my flowers in the window. Thank you, Jesus, I whispered. At that moment a feather, a white feather, floated by. I knew I was being watched closely and guided by everything spiritual and Godsent! The only birds I had seen during my visit were two pigeons off on a roof two or three streets over.

I came into the hospital a pure nutrition-filled body enhanced by vitamins and a strict healthy protocol and I left a drug addict, having been on Morphine, using oxy something, Percocet, oral chemo drugs, a bone-strengthening drug shot into me once a month, and a lost healthy diet. Gone. A year and a half of health ~~~ lost to this. And we wonder why the nation has an opioid crisis? The doctors made it this way, not the people!

1 John 4:18 “There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love.”

The story continues…

ER 4: One Traumatic Event

Job 14:22 “But his flesh upon him shall have pain, and his soul within him shall mourn.”

ER 4 - The Traumatic Event

I was doing everything I was supposed to be doing. Taking care of myself, visiting the doctors I was supposed to and life was moving along. I had a stool in my shower so I could safely shower, I now had a bedside commode because the journey into the bathroom alone was too risky as well as painful, I had the walker and cane and everything seemed to be moving along fine. 

The orthopod, Dr. Wrong, had told me that surgery would more than likely mean a total hip replacement, after looking at more x-rays that the office did and that work on my right side would be risky since it was covered in cancer, the ugly cells that spread like wildfire through my bones. I told him I was on oral chemo and he arrogantly said that he offered nothing oral here and thanks for coming. I did not hit it off with this ortho and quickly made an appointment with another, Dr. No.

The second ortho’s opinion differed from the first one and mixed signals were rampant in my head. I realized that all the little stuff the doctors and nurses put into the computers they carry apparently is for their eyes only. Your information is not shared with the medical community (the doctors you’re seeing) as it should be so that everyone is on the same page. Mass confusion ensues.

My shower that day would be the last for three months. I felt a twinge in my left thigh and I just figured I hit a nerve trying to get out of the shower from my awkward shower-stool. My physical therapist had surmised that my sciatic nerve was damaged, but the ‘know-it-all-doctors’ and their x-rays said it was my disease, munching on my bones like a beaver!

The rest of the day went off without a hitch and both my husband and son were home able-bodied and assisting. My bed was the most comfortable spot to rest my weary bones so there I went, to relax for a bit. 

After dinner, I needed to pee and the commode being inches from me seemed like an easy task but as soon as I put any weight on my left leg, pain shot through my leg like a bolt of lightning singing its target. I screamed. My husband came running. I think that was the last time I saw the sound, stable mind of my calm man. Fear gripped his face like a Hannibal Lecter mask. It covered every portion of visible skin. He was now someone else.

I squirmed and writhed. The pain was intensifying as was the need to pee. I just wanted to pee in the bed but knowing I was on TOXIC CHEMO, I would’ve destroyed the new mattress. My bodily fluids were now a danger to anyone who came in contact with them, so precaution was needed. Twenty-four inches is not a lot of room for two people to maneuver someone to a commode but maneuver we tried, I made it to a seating position on the commode and I screamed like a woman in childbirth, my thigh had dropped. It was gone, disfigured and dangling, a portion of my thigh just hung there as my knee no longer was where my knee should be. Between my legs is not where a knee should be. Something was seriously wrong.

My husband looked at my leg and just short of vomiting, he said, I’m calling 911. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” I screamed, in pain and a not-this-again yelp.

Yes...911 had to get me out of this literal twenty-four-inch hellhole.

I want to give all of the gory and painstaking details of the next hours after this point but as harsh as it is to read, it is even harder to write. Just know, this event was the one where I found the true living meaning of gnawing and gnashing of teeth. The pain was more intense than childbirth. Considering I’ve given birth three times (two natural) you will not read this and say 'no way'. Intense, piercing pain went on for days even with the strongest of drugs they offered.

Miracles were taking place and prayer was right there in the ER with me as the nurse held my hand and we said the Our Father as an x-ray machine was brought into the tiny cubicle to get a picture of this mangled mess before them. Their faces spoke volumes. They have seen the worst of the worst in this hospital and looking at my leg, their faces drained of blood. 

I, in my natural fashion, kept the atmosphere as light as possible and made lil jokes and comebacks as they asked for the umpteenth time my birthday and the one nurse even remarked calling me a little spitfire! The Lord did not take away my humor. In the depths of darkest pain, I cried out to Him and He kept intact what makes me special, my personality.

I was wheeled to a room, obviously going to be kept for a while and with each bump in the floor, I screamed in pain, the ER nurse held my hand through it all and even went to my room with me. She made some calls that night that went against the doctors' orders but honestly, I trusted her as I had yet to even SEE a doctor. Not calls that would put me in danger, calls that would help me, like a catheter and stronger pain medication. It was obvious to her I would not be using a bedpan for days and bless her heart for making that call!

They had to shift me from the ER bed to the bed in the room, and though I’m light, my leg was so mangled and twisted it took about six people to lift, shift, slide my body to the new bed. Tears and screams flooded the room and each nurse again, stood looking as pale as if they had just seen their dead relative walk in the room. They knew and understood the damage present.

An Asian doctor (Ming, not real name) came in and introduced himself. He looked at the nurses and knew my case was serious, the color had not returned to their faces. He informed me that my Orthopod was trying to make a call on my situation without even seeing me, ‘keep me in traction until he can get in to do the surgery on Monday.’ Dr. Ming took one look at my mangled leg and said ‘No! I call dr. here on duty. You need surgery on this leg.’ I and my husband gave him permission to do what needed to be done. 

A miracle walked in the door in the way of Dr. Slim, who was a fill-in for the original Dr. Wrong Orthopod I had seen and didn’t get along with, this doctor was here for a week doing his rounds. Tall, slender and handsome, the concern darkened his raised eyebrow. His lips were perched tightly shut as he knew he had to make a split decision. After looking at this disfigured leg in front of him, he made his call, we need to operate. The doctor overrode the ‘keep her in traction’ orthopod’s decision! Thank you, Jesus!

Now to get the sleeve that the paramedic had placed on my leg at home, to keep the leg from moving, off of my leg. Yeah, all that pain I had felt was with a protective sleeve on my leg, I did not want it removed but the doctor told me my leg would set that way and it would become almost impossible to fix.

The original ER nurse was still there, holding my hand and squeezing it tightly. They all knew about my stage 4 disease and that I was on oral chemo and practically a danger to society since I was now a toxic minefield. They didn’t care, I was the patient and their first priority. Those women became MY heroes!

Dr. Slim stood patiently with my heel in his hand, as the women went on, to slowly free the sleeve, gently and cautiously sliding it under my leg, and in between screams and clenching my teeth, and darned near breaking the poor woman’s hand, the sleeve was removed. Now, to get me to straighten the distorted injured leg.

It was now the middle of the night and yes, after holding my leg/heel for an hour, Dr. Slim did eventually get me to straighten my leg but I’ll spare you more tears and screams, the thesaurus doesn’t hold enough words to describe the angst I went through that morning.

The operation was early that morning and my husband and son were there with me before I went in. My mother-in-law postponed a trip she was going on that day but she wanted to be there for us all and waited with them for the hours the surgery took. I woke, still in pain, but not the same pain as the night before. Now it was time for healing and keeping infection away. The next ten days would be a journey of a thousand hours. Pain-filled, buckets of tears, but love and miracles abounded! My God is an AWESOME God! 

...story to be continued

Rev. 21:4 “And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.”