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.”

Questions and Answers

Pss. 145:17-18 KJV “The LORD is righteous in all his ways, and holy in all his works. The LORD is nigh unto all them that call upon him, to all that call upon him in truth.”

Questions and Answers

I think people have more questions than I do answers but I will try my best to give you the most asked questions as I face this battle of a lifetime. I don’t mind answering questions as long as you don’t counter with a negative response, it could cost me what I deem a valuable friendship.

Question: What made you opt out of doing chemo?

Answer: Well, as the oncologist would have me believe, fear. You see they instill fear so you react in fear. Meaning, they give you dire consequences before allowing you to think for yourself and possibly finding an alternative route. 
What made me opt out? Prayer, God’s answers to my prayers, and finding that there ARE options that the doctor’s don’t allow people the chance to know. 

Question: Are you sure you’re not reacting in fear? What makes you so confident?

Answer: Let me ask you, what would make YOU choose chemo, and be honest? How would YOU react and WHY? 
For me, the doctors handed me a dire diagnosis in my eyes. They wanted me to act quickly, so quickly red flags went up in my head overriding the fear. All I asked for is TIME; time to think things through. Their reactions of  ‘Joni’s not committing’ and words like ‘all I hear is fear in your voice, let us help you’, again raised red flags. THEY are the ones I fear; not the diagnosis. I knew right then and there God was answering my prayer. ‘Don’t do it’ He said. So I opted to ‘Just Say No To Drugs’; a motto that carries a lot of weight with me, a thirty-year reformed drug addict.

1 John 5:14, “This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us.” (NIV)

Question: Why do you have such confidence that you’ll beat this?

Answer: My faith gives me confidence. I’ve been through so much in my life that God has led me through, walked with me, never once led me astray, and now has chosen to lead me again, so I go with confidence in my Lord.

Question: Are you saying my faith isn’t as strong as yours?

Answer: In NO WAY am I saying my faith is stronger. We each individually have our own strengths and weaknesses. Your faith is not my faith and my faith is not your faith. As unique as this diagnosis is to every person, so is our faith and so we must do what we feel is right to US. I would never judge you for choosing chemo, or drugs for what ails you. This is MY walk and MY path and I’m just sharing with you on MY journey. If you ask for what is working for me, by all means, I’ll give you an honest answer but don’t be surprised if it turns into a God talk. *smile* 

Question: Why don’t you say the  C word, is it fear?

Answer: Saying the word c-a-, yeah I can’t even write it; it is not fear that drives me, it is empowerment. If I say it, over and over again, I’m owning the disease. I will not own this illness, this is going to flee from me and it will be the diagnosis and word for other people, just not me. Don’t judge me.

Question: How will you know you’re healed? What does your doctor say?

Answer: Like everything else in my life, I will let God tell me. I prayed for healing and He says through His stripes I am HEALED and I believe that with every fiber of my being. 
My doctor’s not surprisingly have disowned me, washed their hands of me. I imagine them pouting because they failed the pharmaceutical company that drives their pocketbook, but seriously, they’ve moved onto their next victim to instill FEAR into. 
I asked my GP if there were test she could do as I face my recovery and she said flat out, NO, there is no test. Hmm… no scans? No blood test? No measurement? No, nothing? I find that odd! They sure had a lot of toxic tests to diagnose me, but now that I’ve refused chemo, there is no test to see how I’m HEALING?
Again, I’m going to trust God on this one. The One who has NEVER let me down!

Question: What are you doing to heal?

Answer: For one, I searched and researched facts! Second, it is a fact that diet plays a key role in the c-factor. No refined sugars, no carbs, no dairy, no meat, no processed food, no grains (grains are sprayed with pesticides). All toxins need to be eliminated to the BEST of your ability. I switched immediately to a majority of all organic fruit and vegetable diet! Only recently have I allowed, non-chemical laden chicken and eggs into my diet, only because MY BODY was/is telling me what to eat and drink!
I drink purified water, green tea, detox tea, and hibiscus tea. Exciting sounding, isn’t it?
I wash my body with my new Almond soap (no toxic chemicals). I’ve changed deodorant; I now use lavender spray. I have an essential oil diffuser to cleanse the house of toxic mold and pesticides from the fields sneaking into the house. I also now exercise. I take two twenty-minute walks a day (it started out as one fifteen minute walk), weather pending!
I’m taking supplements and I’ve recently discovered the healing power of the sounds of meditative multidimensional music. (No, not rock or classical). Music being used as a healing power, who would’ve thought? Me, that’s who! Yeah, I’m weird like that. 
I’m listening. My body is telling me what I need and God has a trumpet in my ear telling me “You are HEALED! You are HEALTHY! You are WELL!” Onward Christian soldier I go, marching as to war, with the cross of Jesus, going on before. 

Question: Can you tell us the supplements you use? 

Answer: Maybe in another post (too many to mention) as I’m putting together facts for my book I’m writing so I need all of the facts and where I’ve been getting my information to take such supplements. I’m not going into this with blinders on and neither should you if ever diagnosed. Get educated! Gain knowledge! Walk with God!

Question: Don’t you need surgery? Are you going that route?

Answer: My body says NO! The doctor wants to slice me open but in all of my research, I found that it may cause the cells to spread out and go into other parts of my body. No chemo, no radiation, and no slice and dice! Fact: the tumor is not the disease! The tumor is a RESULT of damaged sick cells. Cells are tiny as dust motes. When doctors slice and dice, they take more out even if you say no, they are their own god’s and perform as such. My God is healing all of me not just a portion of me!

Question: Isn’t that asking a lot of your God? 

Answer: A RESOUNDING NO! My God created the universe. Was it too big of a job? Certainly not. He created you and every thread of DNA. Too big of a job? Not in any way, shape or form. My God is an awesome God, He reigns! 

You are free to ask me questions but this topic is not open for debate. I feel debates have a negative overtone and there is no healing in negativity! Am I crazy? Some might say I am, others say I’m brave and courageous, I say I’m just listening, to God, to my body, and the TRUTH! 

All praise and Glory to God in the highest heaven! 

Pss. 9:1 "I will praise thee, O LORD, with my whole heart; I will shew forth all thy marvellous works."

Omaha on hold...

"Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that
weep."Romans 12:15

***

My friends and followers have all been following the story of my beau’s blindness. As you may know, he was scheduled to go back to Omaha again today, but  he canceled the appointment yesterday.

Back in September, we were really excited to find out that the Lion’s Club was willing to pick up the tab. Lion lady told us that they would pay for the visits leading up to and follow-up visits. Excitement gathered as everyone couldn’t wait to hear the good news, that beau would see again!

That September visit didn’t go as planned. We got the news that one eye had shut down completely with no chance of seeing from again. The retina had begun to detach. The right eye, possibilities. The doctor didn’t look too optimistic to me as I sat across the room watching as he studied intently the two eyes. An ultrasound was needed. He said, “If we do the right eye, there’s about a fifty percent chance of success, which isn’t bad, but there are other factors, like this eczema, and your allergies.  I can’t guarantee the transplant will be 100% success or even 60%. Let’s get the ultrasound and I’ll know more.”

We both left the office in silence. My heart ached, and beau said nothing all the way home, except, “Lets eat.” We ate in silence. I could feel the cloud of disappointment lingering, and I had to drive and get us home. Tears kept filling my eyes, but we made it.
Silence.

A month passed and we had the appointment in October for the ultrasound. Hope clutched in our hands! We were in the office ten minutes after a four hour drive, only to turn right back around to go back home. We never saw the doctor, we just saw the lady who does the ultrasound.

Not much time passed and someone from the office called and said that they could operate on the right eye. With the success rate that the doctor had pointed out. Okay, now hope is back. One eye is better than none, even if it’s for one day of sight, this is a go! We were a little excited, but I still felt some form of apprehension on beau’s part. More tests need to be done.

A few days later lion lady called and said, “I hear you’re getting the operation, just let me know the day you go in so I can let my people know.” We hadn’t been given a date to ‘go in’, we were not even told anything to that affect. He was told, “More test are needed but there is potential.”

Mixed communication. Lion lady is saying one thing(we’ll pay it all) others are saying other things (they’ll pay for the op and that’s all) and all this info is rendering beau apprehensive to the point where he just doesn’t even care if he gets this operation. What started off as feeling right, now feels as if everything is going wrong. He's like a pressure cooker about to explode. Too much pressure and *KABOOM*.

Does he want to see again? YES! We all want him to see again. But it is not up to me or anyone else. He’s a grown man and can make his own decisions. I NEVER give my opinion, this is for HIM and him alone to decide. Does he want all this confusion? NO! So he has decided to take matters into his own hands! HE will choose a doctor, go and get their opinion, in April he will have medicare and if this is meant to be, he will have this done.

Is time of the essence? I don’t know what that means. It has been a year and a half, so what is five more months? Will his eye be any healthier in April? Well, there should be as much percentage of success in April as there is today. No one knows! Only the Man Upstairs.

This is a bag of mixed emotions I just wanted to toss out to those who have followed, prayed and stood by in support of us.
 
I Thank You!

It is important to distinguish between opinion and judgment. Opinions open us up, judgments close us down.

Second opinion?

1 Kings18:21 And Elijah came unto all the people, and said, How long halt ye between two opinions? if the LORD be God, follow him: but if Baal, then follow him. And the people answered him not a word.
***

When I write a novel, is my work enough to go ahead and submit? I think when you finish a novel, as many many writer’s will do, they’ll get a second opinion. Stephen King and Dean Koontz both have trusted friends that they turn to when their manuscript is completed.

Sure they’ve re-read the work, edited it, revised a little, but then their gut instinct tells them to let someone with a different opinion read this. It is precious to a writer, their manuscript, and we are not just going to trust our opinion or a family members opinion, on something so precious; we’re going to go with that gut instinct and seek out a second opinion.

So why are writer’s so willing to let their precious art of words, fall into a strangers hand after meticulously finishing a novel? Because we know, we can not bear the burden alone. We know that through a second opinion we’ll get a clearer view of what needs to be changed or fixed.

How come when a medical emergency arises, we take a doctors word as gospel truth? Why are we so willing to put our trust in a man, we barely know, never checked his credentials, his success rate or his ability to perform a major surgery?

I’ve been given ten fingers, so if the doc messes up on surgery on one of them, I have nine more, no big loss. Same goes for my toes. But when we’re talking spinal surgery? I want to know my doctor is up for the chore of performing. Same with my eyes, my liver, my heart. These are tender parts of our anatomy that warrant a second opinion from another doctor.

I know many insurance plans welcome a second opinion from another doctor. If the person was diagnosed, received the wrong info, isn’t really in need of a surgery, then that would save the company a lot of money in the long run. But when you can’t afford medical insurance, you take what you can get.

Take for example my beaus eye surgery. We didn’t have the luxury of choosing a well-known respected doctor, we had to take Lion Lady’s direction, and go to a doctor in Omaha, where the Lions fund the clinic. We get bad news that the left eye is unsalvageable, we get good news that there is a fifty percent chance that the right eye is good enough to have eye surgery, but with further testing. We get the testing, and we need even further testing to make sure the eye can be saved.

Everyone can be heard rejoicing at this news, but really nothing is definite, until we get further testing! Lion lady already called and asked when the surgery was scheduled? Scheduled? Jumping the gun lion lady, WE NEED MORE TEST!

Beau's doctor in Dallas had numerous awards and medical degrees all displayed on her wall. From Boston College to different places across the globe, her training as well as her ability, was visually present for all her patients to see, and for reassurance.

A second opinion can save a lot of heartache of botched surgeries, misdiagnosis, and it can save a writer a lot of uncertainty.

“A bird can not take flight with just one wing.” Joni

Good News! To see again...

Matt.19: 26 Jesus looked at them and said, "With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible."

***

Well folks, good news came in the way of a telephone call yesterday.

As many of you know, if you’ve read my blog, that my beau is blind. We’ve been trying to get help, we’ve been praying, and maybe our prayers have finally been answered. He needs a cornea transplant and cataract surgery and we’ve found out that one eye, his right eye, has possibilities.

Our first trip to Omaha was wind swept and the long drive was tiring and back-aching. It’s a four hour trip both ways; that’s four to Omaha and four hours back home. The first trip we met with 35 mph gusting to 45mph winds which, you might think me a big sissy, but driving on a narrow two lane interstate, with wind pushing and shoving the truck to and fro, is not a fun task.

In front of me trucks were swerving left and right trying to stay in their lane, to my left cars flying by me at no less than 80 mph, and to my right, a rippled edge to keep drivers awake? Well at 80 mph hour that ripple helps you in losing control of your vehicle. On that day, I never reached 65mph. It was sixty all the way. To top it off, it was a ninety degree day and we have no A.C. in the vehicle, so it was also a dripping wet travel experience.

This trip was more pleasant. No winds, cool temps, still back aching, but a nice trip nonetheless. We were in the office maybe twenty minutes then it was back home.

The wait. We had to wait for the dr.’s office to let us know, if after looking behind the cataract via an ultra sound, if the eye was well enough to go through surgery so beau can see again.

The call. It came and she (the assistant, never a doctor) said beau needed more test but the dr. thought that the eye looked well enough back there to perform surgery. Good news!!! A resounding WOOHOO!!

Another trip. Well actually it will be many many more trips back to Omaha, but our next trip is scheduled for November 13. The doc is going to do even more tests, hopefully put him on the cornea donor’s list, probably get him to see a dermatologist and a sinus expert (preferably in Kearney) closer to home.

The wait. More waiting as we’ll have to wait for someone to die, to donate a cornea and be a perfect match. To think that God already has someone picked out to die so my beau can see again is scary. His last doctor was scrupulous in picking out a cornea and did all the aids testing, and other transferring tests that needed to be done so that the surgery was successful. He got an eighteen year old suicide victims cornea last time. It had a life expectancy of twenty years and lasted only seven in my beaus body. I pray for that boy and the family who donated his cornea. And I pray now for the next person and their family.

We wait in anticipation of seeing again. If only for a year, two years or seven, he will see once again if things go well! That is certainly GOOD NEWS to share with you all!!!