Low Risk

Last Thursday found us back at KU for a second attempt at completing Jason's heart ct scan.  This time they were able to get his heart rate in the low 70's with various medicines, so were able to go ahead with the test. The nurse said we should get results in 5-7 business days, so I resigned myself to waiting ever so patiently. Of course, I was considerably relieved to hear from them this afternoon.  The nurse said that Jason's test results were good.  She went on to say that the cardiologist feels Jason is at low risk for surgery, so he would clear him for transplant!  This was our last major hurdle before he's placed on the transplant list.  We are immeasurably grateful for such life-changing news.  

"I know that you can do all things; no purpose of yours can be thwarted." (Job 42:2)

Echoes

My sister is always the first one to notice when I begin to fray at the edges.  The past several months have been especially difficult, and took their toll.  I've been finding myself increasingly emotional and not coping well.  Yesterday she casually asked if I had plans for today, and informed me that she had a surprise getaway in store for me.

After we'd been on the road for a bit, I realized our secret destination was Jamesport, Missouri. This is a quaint little town surrounded by an Amish community.  It was one of my favorite spots to visit when Jason and I were first married, but I hadn't been there for many years.  As we drove through the peaceful countryside, I felt my inner turmoil quietly slip away.  She had arranged for a private tour given by the owner of a bed and breakfast, who directed us to a country schoolhouse, Amish farms, and fascinating little shops.  After our tour, we thoroughly enjoyed a delicious lunch before exploring more stores and bakeries.  I was delighted to discover the very same candles Jason used to purchase for me.  The scent is aptly called Amish Country Clothesline. This evening before I lit one, I held it under Jason's nose.  He immediately said, "Jamesport".  

I imagine my sister's arms are growing weary from holding me up all these years.  She effuses a contagious joy that never fails to calm me.  She advises, coaxes, insists, and cajoles as only an older sister can.  I would truly be a mess without her.

"Good deeds have echoes." ~Amish proverb

Teach Us To Sit Still

We went to KU today for Jason's coronary CTA test.  This is a CT scan of the heart after a contrast dye has been injected.  When we were taken back to a room, they decorated his chest with sticky pads and hooked him up to monitor leads.  They also inserted an iv line in preparation for the dye.  We had been told that his heart rate needed to be between 50-60 in order to ensure accuracy of the test.  To try and achieve this, he was given a medicine to take last night and this morning.  I also acted as the caffeine police to remind him to abstain.
Since Jason's heart rate was 82 when they first checked it,  he was given a drug through his iv to try and slow it down.  After a second dose, his rate was still hovering between 77-80.  At this point, the nurse made a phone call to the doctor.  We were cordially invited to return another day to try again.  Sigh.  We will be going back next Thursday afternoon.  This time Jason will take five doses of the medicine before we go.  We felt bad to have wasted the afternoon since our trusty sidekick Keith has family in town for a wedding. We would be pitiful indeed without the immeasurable support we receive from others.
"Teach us to care and not to care.  Teach us to sit still." ~T.S. Elliot

Happy Place

Sometimes when life becomes a bit overwhelming, I escape in my mind to my happy place. I find myself on the family farm of my youth. Some of my most peaceful memories are of springtime. At the first hint of a balmy breeze, my brothers and I would bound from the confines of the house. As the bright sun melted the lingering snow, we would use sticks to form tiny tributaries from the icy puddles in our yard. This simple activity would occupy us for hours.
The return of warm weather also meant we could engage in our favorite activities. The great outdoors provided more room to impersonate Bo, Luke, and Daisy Duke who encountered various obstacles. I also had more space to twirl in my Wonder Woman swimsuit. I battled the forces of evil in this ensemble, complete with bangles, a lasso, and boots.
We spent hours exploring the grove of trees on our property. We would take turns holding open the barbed wire fence so we could squeeze through, and race across the pasture to the trees. My favorite spot was among the lilac bushes that bordered the north end. I often slipped away to this space for quiet contemplation, where the only sounds were the songs of chickadees.
Of course, the passing of years brings countless changes. Gone are the days of playing Matchbox car garage or belting out Charlie Pride tunes. We will no longer take turns on the tire swing or relentlessly search for new kittens among the dusty straw bales in the barn. While those carefree days will never return, the memories provide respite.
"Childhood is measured out by sounds and smells and sights, before the dark hour of reason grows."
-John Betjeman

Indeterminate

Jason had a nuclear stress test last Friday as one of the final steps toward transplant.  The cardiology nurse called today to say the results were "indeterminate"...meaning they saw something on the scan which requires further investigation.  He will be scheduled for a CTA (coronary CT angiography) to take a closer look.  We are trusting God for a positive outcome.
We still haven't completely settled into the overnight dialysis.  My nights are fairly restless since I'm not entirely comfortable with Jason's activities while I'm snoozing.  Several times I've woken to find he's stopped the machine, and is sitting on the side of the bed.  When I inquire, he answers that he's headed to the bathroom.  His catheter is surgically implanted inside...and the tubing doesn't reach the bathroom, so it's a bit unsettling each time this happens.  A couple nights ago he screamed, "Ow!!!!"  When I asked what was wrong, he said, "I'm trying to pull this tube out!"  When he's half-asleep, he's just not aware that he's hooked up to the machine.
We are enjoying the added freedom during the daytime.  It's so much easier doing just one manual treatment each day instead of five.  As his kidney doctor said, "Five treatments a day is just not livable"...it left room for little else.  I've been slowly trying to get back on a schedule for cleaning houses. It's been good for me to get out for a few hours, even if the time is spent dusting and mopping.  I've found great solace in the quiet time alone with my thoughts. I work hard to keep my emotions in check around Eli since he doesn't know every detail of the current struggles within our family. Sometimes I need those moments of release.

"I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in His word I put my hope." (Psalm130:5)