Today I was to return to work. After my doctor's appointment, I was to spend a half of a day trying to collect and get back on track. However, after talking to the doctor, and looking at all that has transpired, he highly recommended for me to stay out another week. A bit disappointed, a bit relieved as I am still wrapping my brain on the course of events over the past week.
It's cold here, as it did not reach 50 here today and for us that is cold. With a jacket and my too big knitted hat, I took a walk on our community cushioned track. It measures a little over a 1/2 mile around and was empty of walkers. The wind was kicking up a little and I realized that I should have had a scarf with me too, but we southerners are not always the best prepared for cold weather. I took my hat down and pulled it down so I probably appeared faceless, protecting my face from the elements, as well as narrowing my view to the steps I was taking. I'm sure I was a sight. But with that limited view, it gave me time just to think, to pray, and to be, with no distractions from the world. An occasional leaf would cross my path to draw me to the foliage around me.
This past week has given me an opportunity to feel the love of those around me and support me, but there is also the sense of a part of it only I can experience. I am not unique in this situation, as anyone who has something occur whose outcome could have been much more serious and could have been where I did not have a second chance. All the support from the world can be there, but it has to come from within - the change that will make a difference.
So now I wait... actively wait.... and actually this is a perfect time for this as Advent season is here. I am trying my best to prepare for the road ahead, to give thoughtfulness and mindfulness to not only what is going on inside with my health, but also in preparing and paving the way for how Advent prepares us for the arrival of the Christ child. New life. Hope. Peace.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Friday, December 3, 2010
Advent Meditation from our Diocese
An Advent medication from our very own bishop, the Right Rev. Scott Benhase, Bishop of Georgia. I share it with you as I found it meaningful in my life. I hope you do too.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
And this is what happened
Life takes on unexpected turns as we travel through our life, some we should have known would happen, others blindside us. This past weekend offered a little of both.
Friday's lunch was none other than the leftovers from Thanksgiving - a little of this and that. As we sat together, I felt a little pain in my chest grow, but I though - I'll let this pass - certainly not mention it as to not upset others. And the pain eased off after an hour or so - nothing unbearable, just there. Friday evening, we ate again, and the same thing happened- and it passed. Ok, I am eating too much rich food and my stomach isn't liking it.
Saturday, Mom and I split a cinnamon roll at the coffee shop - and no pain. Ok, good. I was right - rich food was the culprit.
That afternoon, I moved a few pieces of furniture - nothing dramatically heavy and could be slid across the floor mostly. At some point that afternoon, I started feeling the pain again in my chest, and called my dear friend over and asked her to bring her blood pressure monitor over. Blood pressure fine. Good.
But it nagged me - should I get this checked out or should I not? Tears started forming in my eyes. What if this was a heart attack? I teetered as to whether to go, and with friends encouragement and support, we decided to go.
So to the ER we go -- saw me lickety split - I mean I never sat down to wait. Blood pressure fine. EKG fine. Blood work was the tell tale sign of what had or was happening. The enzymes produced from my heart told the medical team that I was in trouble.... trouble enough that they were sending me by ambulance to another hospital. May I tell you that ambulance ride was something else. Every bump felt like a bumpy railroad crossing.
Reached my destination and wheeled right in. It was then told to me I had had a heart attack and that I would be staying there. Two residents came in and talked to me and questioned me, examined me from stem to stern (literally - will spare the details - but it must have been a required part of the check off list of "things to do").
I got into the room around 11 and all kinds of flurrying went around that evening - another event was that my sugar levels were high, so that was being a addressed also - needless to say, sleep was kept to a minimum that night. Really folks, do you think a blood pressure cuff is supposed to so tight that your arm feels like it is going to explode? Every 5 minutes? Please.....
More doctors arrived in the morning, including the cardiologist - heart catheterization was in order. I had just one request. Give me some meds so when I go in there I don't give a rip. So when I went in there, he ordered an "I don't give a rip cocktail" - but really and truly, I found an extraordinary amount of peace before he gave it to me. I know prayers were flowing all over the place. I could feel them.
As for the heart cath, the only pain I felt was at the site of the injection in the wrist, which is where they prefer to do this - the novocain they inject to numb the area was the most "painful" part - much like at the dentist. The rest was painless. One time I felt a flushing of the face, he prepared me for that. Next thing he told me I would feel my heart flutter. And I did.
The doctor placed in two stents - one artery 100% blocked and the other 80%.
After the procedure was the best part of the day.....I had my family and our deacon and his wife brought communion to me. How is that for Thanksgiving? Anointing with oil among friends and family. Healing physically and spiritually - the best of all worlds. Thanks be to God.
Home again home again jiggedy jig arrived on Monday - and the road to recovery begins - a lifelong commitment to remaining healthy with prayer warriors, food warriors and exercise warriors to support me.
What do I blame this on? Lots of things. I'll take the majority of the blame - but I also attribute some of the blame to family history as my father and his mother had heart attacks in their 40s. My maternal father had a stroke at my age. So genetics may play a part in the scheme. Stress is certainly a component of being in the sandwich generation with a full time job to boot. But... lifestyle, exercise, food, etc..I must own that one.
A new regimen of medicines are on my plate which does not cure, but helps to prevent. The rest is up to me. I had a wake up call. Some are not so lucky.
Modern medicine is truly a gift to us, and I offer thanks to the team from Bainbridge to Tallahassee. But the biggest thanks goes to our Creator, the Great Physician and for those who have offered prayers of support and prayers for healing.
I am to rest this week, allowing the heart to rest (though I can walk!), some restrictions next week, and continued road to recovery after that.
And that's the way it was, and is.
Friday's lunch was none other than the leftovers from Thanksgiving - a little of this and that. As we sat together, I felt a little pain in my chest grow, but I though - I'll let this pass - certainly not mention it as to not upset others. And the pain eased off after an hour or so - nothing unbearable, just there. Friday evening, we ate again, and the same thing happened- and it passed. Ok, I am eating too much rich food and my stomach isn't liking it.
Saturday, Mom and I split a cinnamon roll at the coffee shop - and no pain. Ok, good. I was right - rich food was the culprit.
That afternoon, I moved a few pieces of furniture - nothing dramatically heavy and could be slid across the floor mostly. At some point that afternoon, I started feeling the pain again in my chest, and called my dear friend over and asked her to bring her blood pressure monitor over. Blood pressure fine. Good.
But it nagged me - should I get this checked out or should I not? Tears started forming in my eyes. What if this was a heart attack? I teetered as to whether to go, and with friends encouragement and support, we decided to go.
So to the ER we go -- saw me lickety split - I mean I never sat down to wait. Blood pressure fine. EKG fine. Blood work was the tell tale sign of what had or was happening. The enzymes produced from my heart told the medical team that I was in trouble.... trouble enough that they were sending me by ambulance to another hospital. May I tell you that ambulance ride was something else. Every bump felt like a bumpy railroad crossing.
Reached my destination and wheeled right in. It was then told to me I had had a heart attack and that I would be staying there. Two residents came in and talked to me and questioned me, examined me from stem to stern (literally - will spare the details - but it must have been a required part of the check off list of "things to do").
I got into the room around 11 and all kinds of flurrying went around that evening - another event was that my sugar levels were high, so that was being a addressed also - needless to say, sleep was kept to a minimum that night. Really folks, do you think a blood pressure cuff is supposed to so tight that your arm feels like it is going to explode? Every 5 minutes? Please.....
More doctors arrived in the morning, including the cardiologist - heart catheterization was in order. I had just one request. Give me some meds so when I go in there I don't give a rip. So when I went in there, he ordered an "I don't give a rip cocktail" - but really and truly, I found an extraordinary amount of peace before he gave it to me. I know prayers were flowing all over the place. I could feel them.
As for the heart cath, the only pain I felt was at the site of the injection in the wrist, which is where they prefer to do this - the novocain they inject to numb the area was the most "painful" part - much like at the dentist. The rest was painless. One time I felt a flushing of the face, he prepared me for that. Next thing he told me I would feel my heart flutter. And I did.
The doctor placed in two stents - one artery 100% blocked and the other 80%.
After the procedure was the best part of the day.....I had my family and our deacon and his wife brought communion to me. How is that for Thanksgiving? Anointing with oil among friends and family. Healing physically and spiritually - the best of all worlds. Thanks be to God.
Home again home again jiggedy jig arrived on Monday - and the road to recovery begins - a lifelong commitment to remaining healthy with prayer warriors, food warriors and exercise warriors to support me.
What do I blame this on? Lots of things. I'll take the majority of the blame - but I also attribute some of the blame to family history as my father and his mother had heart attacks in their 40s. My maternal father had a stroke at my age. So genetics may play a part in the scheme. Stress is certainly a component of being in the sandwich generation with a full time job to boot. But... lifestyle, exercise, food, etc..I must own that one.
A new regimen of medicines are on my plate which does not cure, but helps to prevent. The rest is up to me. I had a wake up call. Some are not so lucky.
Modern medicine is truly a gift to us, and I offer thanks to the team from Bainbridge to Tallahassee. But the biggest thanks goes to our Creator, the Great Physician and for those who have offered prayers of support and prayers for healing.
I am to rest this week, allowing the heart to rest (though I can walk!), some restrictions next week, and continued road to recovery after that.
And that's the way it was, and is.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
The Rune of Hospitality
Who will I feed? Who will I offer drink? Who will I offer music? Who will I serve?
Music by Alfred Houkom
I believe this selection of music is sung by the Dale Warland Singers from the December Stillness CD.
I saw a stranger yestereen;
I put food in the eating place,
drink in the drinking place,
music in the listening place;
and in the sacred names of the Triune God
he blessed me and my house,
my cattle and my dear ones,
and the lark said in her song:
Often, Often, Often,
goes the Christ in a stranger's guise.
I put food in the eating place,
drink in the drinking place,
music in the listening place;
and in the sacred names of the Triune God
he blessed me and my house,
my cattle and my dear ones,
and the lark said in her song:
Often, Often, Often,
goes the Christ in a stranger's guise.
Music by Alfred Houkom
I believe this selection of music is sung by the Dale Warland Singers from the December Stillness CD.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Take, eat
She just came to church last Sunday. Sitting at the end of the pew (our pews hold about 4 grown people), she kicked her feet up and down and had that look on her face that looked like she just might have been weaned from a sour pickle. Her aura of grumpiness encircled those around her as she made everyone know she was not happy. It was a baptism Sunday so opportunities to get up and move around to see the baptism allowed for some musical chairs to occur, and by the time the baptism had taken place she ended up in the front pew.
It's not always easy being an eight year old in a church where there are few children. But she returned this week and I saw her outside. Got a bit of a hug from her and asked if we could sit together. She requested we sit in the front pew. Ok (even though I knew it was a place where another usually sat.). So sat we did- and she saw a little boy with one of the bags we have for young children. She eased over to the pew across the aisle to "check out the loot". It was obvious she was content to sit there with a little bit of entertainment of another child. So move across the aisle I went to make sure we kept things to a low roar. It's the teacher in me.
Not to worry, she was a true trooper keeping up with how to find the pages in the hymnal and the Book of Common Prayer soaking in the busyness of finding pages and reading and singing along at the appropriate times. Sermon time came and she became enchanted with the color of the stained glass shining in and leaving red shadows on her skin. Fascinated by the light as it showed off its glorious colors as the position of the sun shines softer as the bright summer light fades.
As it was time for communion, we walked to the altar and there was just enough room for the three of us - we were at the end of the rail. All of us received the bread, and as the chalice arrived, the little boy had the bread in his hand, not knowing quite what to do with it. He whispers, "I haven't been baptized." I said, "it's ok for you to have it". The little girl had the wafer and I am not sure what happened after that, but I saw the bread in her hand. I heard the person asked "has she been baptized?" and I said I don't know.
At that point, it didn't matter. They took, they ate, and they were fed. And isn't that really what it is all about?
It's not always easy being an eight year old in a church where there are few children. But she returned this week and I saw her outside. Got a bit of a hug from her and asked if we could sit together. She requested we sit in the front pew. Ok (even though I knew it was a place where another usually sat.). So sat we did- and she saw a little boy with one of the bags we have for young children. She eased over to the pew across the aisle to "check out the loot". It was obvious she was content to sit there with a little bit of entertainment of another child. So move across the aisle I went to make sure we kept things to a low roar. It's the teacher in me.
Not to worry, she was a true trooper keeping up with how to find the pages in the hymnal and the Book of Common Prayer soaking in the busyness of finding pages and reading and singing along at the appropriate times. Sermon time came and she became enchanted with the color of the stained glass shining in and leaving red shadows on her skin. Fascinated by the light as it showed off its glorious colors as the position of the sun shines softer as the bright summer light fades.
As it was time for communion, we walked to the altar and there was just enough room for the three of us - we were at the end of the rail. All of us received the bread, and as the chalice arrived, the little boy had the bread in his hand, not knowing quite what to do with it. He whispers, "I haven't been baptized." I said, "it's ok for you to have it". The little girl had the wafer and I am not sure what happened after that, but I saw the bread in her hand. I heard the person asked "has she been baptized?" and I said I don't know.
At that point, it didn't matter. They took, they ate, and they were fed. And isn't that really what it is all about?
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Whirlwind trip to big city
Friday, I took a personal day from work - one I seldom take as most of the days I take are taking Mom to doctor or one of us being sick. But I drove to Atlanta early Friday and got to meet my dear son's girlfriend's parents. Delightful to meet and hope it is one of many times we have an opportunity to spend time together. The evening time gave us an opportunity to meet up with my friend Beth and her sister in law and we ate at a local restaurant. What an enjoyable Friday!
Early Saturday, we drove to the cathedral to hear Barbara Brown Taylor speak on the Sabbath. Lots to chew on in terms of our culture and what we have done or not done in terms of observing that sacred time. Needless to say, a bookstore was right there in the cathedral and I succumbed to temptation in a good way. Was modest in my purchases, knowing full well there will be a next time. I will share one of the books I purchased later in another post as I get a grab on what it means to me and how it will impact me spiritually.
On the way home, I could have done without a car accident, but happened it did and fenders took the brunt of the damage. Safe, I am home - not quite sure how I made it home as I was exhausted from the tension of the accident. But made it home I did.
Early Saturday, we drove to the cathedral to hear Barbara Brown Taylor speak on the Sabbath. Lots to chew on in terms of our culture and what we have done or not done in terms of observing that sacred time. Needless to say, a bookstore was right there in the cathedral and I succumbed to temptation in a good way. Was modest in my purchases, knowing full well there will be a next time. I will share one of the books I purchased later in another post as I get a grab on what it means to me and how it will impact me spiritually.
On the way home, I could have done without a car accident, but happened it did and fenders took the brunt of the damage. Safe, I am home - not quite sure how I made it home as I was exhausted from the tension of the accident. But made it home I did.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Warms the heart and makes my day
This warms my heart. It's one reason why I teach.
By the way, there were 271 flattened Capri Suns to turn into the school. We receive cash from the company for them.
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