Happy thanksgiving everyone. Even though my energy is low, I thought that I would take a moment to share a shore a poem of thanks and to wish everyone a happy day of giving thanks for all that God has done for us. May you and your family enjoy a good meal and a full heart as you count your blessing and find joy in the fullness of your basket of blessings.
If I had the energy to write and then type a poem, I would probably write a poem with the title, Anemia the Misery that Never Goes Away, Anemia Why Do You Stick to Me Like Glue, or Anemia the Nightmare From Which I Never Wake Up. Because sadly, as I feared, it is time for another round of iron infusions. Hopefully if all goes well, next month I will get my 5th infusion of the year.
I am definitely looking forward to the boost in energy that an infusion gives. I just wished that it would last longer than a couple of months. My last infusion was in May or June, and my hemoglobin has already dropped to 11.2. And according to the person who saw me, my iron was actually low enough on my last test to get an infusion but for some reason they were unable to contact me (or forgot to contact me). Which is such a shame because right now I could be enjoying a burst of creative energy instead of a bout of breathless exhaustion.
Oh well, at least I know why I have been struggling more and more each day to settle down and focus on the task at hand and why I have found myself dreaming all night about a post or pack that I wanted to create only to wake up the next morning and settle down before my laptop and a few seconds later to switch over to watching a You Tube video or worse yet playing a simple video game like pet salon.
Well as bad as it is to be anemic, it is better than just being plane lazy. Which is something I fear each time the anemia strikes. Even though I have been through enough rounds of anemia that I can tell from my pale skin, racing heart, shortness of breath, spiking migraines that I am becoming seriously anemic, I always fear I am developing a lazy streak.And each time I find out that I really am anemic I want to shout for joy because my laziness is due to health and not a lack of willingness or desire to try and do what I can.
Fortunately if all goes well the sixth is not that far away. And while I would have loved to have more energy to try and plan out a few black Friday sales for my brand new Etsy Shop or try to create a few You Tube videos to advertise my shop and my Amazon books, at least it will come in time to ring in the new year with a bit of energy. And in the mean time I can take advantage of my next few days of being mostly bed ridden to try and watch some educational videos as well as create a mental outline for a few post, books, and packs that I want to create the moment my energy starts to climb.
In the meantime, here is a short little acrostic poem that I created during one of my first official bouts of enjoyment draining anemia.
As the Sabbath begins here, I hope that you enjoy this Sabbath poem.
Yesterday we took Happy to the vet and they said that his sugar was low, therefore we should not give him insulin until this morning. After dinner my sister made his poultice and we settled in for a relaxing evening. Around 9 PM I happened to turn and look at Happy to find him trying to eat his poultice plastic and all. In that moment I knew it was going to be a long sleepless night because Happy’s sugar has spiked.
After a nearly sleepless night, giving Happy water, taking him out, and trying to keep him from jumping off the chair, we were counting down the moments until he got his insulin and settled down. I was never so grateful to crawl off the sofa to give him is insulin so we could finally get some much needed rest. Unfortunately it did nothing. If anything Happy’s condition deteriorated as he went from being able to lay down for 20 or 30 minutes at a time to barely tolerating 5.
By the afternoon God had impressed upon us that we needed to take him to the vet. Fortunately, even though my mother had missed a lot of sleep, she had been able to get more rest than us and was able to drive Happy and my sister to the vet who worried that Happy’s sugar was so high that he was in ketoacidosis and might have to be hospitalized. She told my mother and sister that if we had waited a few hours more, Happy might not have made it.
Thankfully, while his sugar was seriously high, he was not in ketoacidosis. Strangely enough, even though he had drunk 15 or more bowls of water in less than 10 hours, he was dehydrated and had to receive a some fluids and nausea meds before being sent home. Thanks to the medicine he has finally been able to get some sleep. But it does not take much to upset his stomach and cause him to pass the floor.
The worrisome part is that the doctors are not sure why his sugar is suddenly spiking from very low to off the charts high. They are considering sending him so a specialist, but we are bit concerned about where we will get the funds. We are already trying to move to find something more affordable because our budget was wearing thin.
Yet what do we do? We really love Happy. And especially since the death of my father, he has been the life of our home. Cheering us up when loneliness and uncertainty was threatening to wear us down.
Ultimately our hope is that the Lord will hear our prayers and if it is for God’s glory and Happy’s best, He will put His healing hands upon Happy. Therefore we are putting Happy’s health and life in God’s hands. And if you could, we would appreciate it if you could take a moment to ask God to do what is best for our beloved four footed family member. And that if it is for Happy’s best, God will restore that sweet, cheerful, and uplifting smile back to our grieving home.
Sometimes, as I study my life, as I look upon all my short comings and failures, as I count up the truckload of disappointments that life has thrown my way, I am tempted to lose hope. But then, praise the Lord, as discouragement seeks to swallow me up, the Lord in His mercy points my eyes heavenward. With the tender love of a father, He reminds me that this life is not my source of joy and hope. He reminds me that my days upon this earth are like the falling sands of an hour glass. For a moment they stand at the edge, and in a blink of an eye they fall to the bottom and are lost sight of. So it is with the sorrows and pains of this life. Right now, if we set our eyes upon the things of this earth, even the smallest trial can seem like a matter of vital importance. But thankfully our earthly trials are only for a moment, because Jesus is coming.
The signs of the times are shouting that He is coming. The increasing birth pains of earth are screaming to us look up, because your faith is not in vain, and your redemption draweth nigh. Praise the Lord, our days of wandering are soon to draw to an end. This world with all of its fearful trials is not our hope. Our truckloads of missed dreams need not be mourned over as if all hope is gone. Because heaven with its endless ages of wonder is around the corner. Today may be full of tears. The news with all of its fearful tales of want and woe may fill our heart with anxiety for the future, yet we need not be overwhelmed.
Because Jesus is coming! He is coming to rescue us. He is coming to put an end to sin and death. He is coming to take us to a land where sickness, fear, disappointment, hunger, want, sorrow, loss, theft, intense cold or heat, destruction, and the many traumas of sin are unknown. In that blessed land, where the angels lift their voice in praise to God, we shall lay forever lay down our burdens.
With bodies made new, free of the taint of sin, we shall walk, jump, and run with the energy of a young child. For endless ages our minds will have the privilege to explore the vast universe that God has created. Our minds will thrill with delight as we dive into the depths of the sea to swim with sharks or climb to the top of the loftiest tree to hang out with the birds.
Every cell, down to the tiniest molecule will work with perfect order. No longer held back by aching back or knees, no longer kept on the sideline by anemia, migraines, MS, or any other debilitating disease, we will march along the streets of gold. We will build houses and gardens without any worry that the tax bill will prove to be too great a burden or that some stranger will find a way to claim our home and turn us out into the streets.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IfTs6Tt4gNo&list=TLPQMDExMDIwMjJRkNBBXIwdEw&index=1As I consider the wonder of that great day, my pen feels so inadequate. In vain I long for a way to share a hundredth of its hope and glory so that the hearts of all might instantly be stirred to action. If only for a few moments I could sing like an angel so that your heart might be stirred so that with all of your heart you would desire to be part of the redeemed. If only I could say something that would encourage all to long for and take solace in the good news, that Jesus is coming. And He is coming very soon.
Sometimes, when I look at how hard I have struggled to only advance a step or two, I start to feel rather discouraged. As I look around me and see how far those who have put forth half the struggle, who barely gave 50 percent of their effort while I pushed my pain ridden body until it could not take another step, yet they are the ones with a comfortable home, family, and a job. And for all my persistence, my determination to give 100 percent so that I might reach my goal, I have nothing to show except a few bruises and an AA degree that can open no doors.
When I look at window and watch the cars go by, and think of all the dreams that will never be, of the family that I longed for, but will never know, and the country home that will never be mine, I must admit that for a moment or two, my heart drops, and hope seems so far away. As I look at my long list of failed dreams, and the success of others, I have to struggle to keep back the tears.
Why are others allowed to enjoy the fruits of their labor, and although I give my all, every attempt seems to end in utter failure? Why are my dreams always denied? Why cannot I find love? Why am I not allowed to have my own home and family? Why am I not allowed to have any real hope? Or is that the case?
As my broken heart looks upon the tattered remnants of my dearest earthly dreams, I am gently reminded to look up. To look up toward heaven and by faith behold the true hope. The hope that is free of sorrow and disappointment. The hope that is free of pain, suffering, want, and any taint of sin. To look up and by faith behold the wonderful day when sin will come to an end and as promised all my years of emptiness will, in one moment, be swallowed up, and transformed into an eternity of unending possibilities.Continue reading “Hope”
Some days are definitely harder than others, and today has definitely been one of those days. Today has been a frustrating day full of interruptions and delay. Task that should have taken 5 minutes were turned into an hour plus exercise in misery as every time I started someone would come and ask a question or needed me to hear something important. On top of that, it seemed that every program was eager to reveal their peculiar quirks, crash, or somehow erase portions of the work I had struggle to complete.
Irritating and pain inducing struggle that it was, I had brushed most of it off as the unwanted misery of one of those trying days when it everything goes wrong and you wish that you could just stay in bed until today turns into tomorrow. Tired and worn, I have learned to take a deep breath and remind myself that this too shall pass, and take an extra long break to recuperate.
All would have passed with only minor notice, if it had not been for an unexpected disappointment. For weeks I have planned to get a brand new math sheet creating program that was scheduled to come out tomorrow. For days I have watched every video that I could, and planned what I would do when I got it.
That was until tonight, when less than 14 hours before its release, the breaks were slammed shut because my mother feels the price is to high. Suddenly, without any warning, hours of waiting and planning went up in a puff of smoke.. In that second my heart sunk and discouragement took hold.
It reminded me how much has changed since my father died. If he was alive the price of the program would not have been an issue. As my eager cheerleader he would have helped me pour over the different bonus packages to help me chose the right one.
It is not that money was not an issue while he was alive. As long as I can remember money has always been tight. As much as my father would have loved to give me a blank check and let me get whatever I wanted, he had to settle for long talks to help us pick and chose which items were the most important and which we might desire but must pass on for now.
But things were just better enough, that there would have been no question about whether or not we were going to get this program. After a few minutes of seeing what this program could do, the question would have been settled, it might mean waiting on other things for my little business for a few months, but he would have said it was a deal too good to pass up.
Even then, some of the heartache of missing my father and the way things were before he died might have been avoided, if it were not for the fact that all of this is a stark reminder of how my life and business have stood still. ears of fighting to go to school, years of struggling to make books, and I am still in the same place as day one. A lifetime of struggling and doing without, giving up holidays and summer vacation to study, staying up till midnight to do homework, getting up at 4am to get ready for school, some semesters enduring 12 hours without food because I could not afford to go to taco bell and get a burrito, at times having to go to class in a wheelchair, pushing myself to the point that tears were running down my checks with each step because I was ignoring the symptoms of a massive infection, enduring long hours in class with an undiagnosed and untreated migraine, for what?
Even now, after school my dream of going to school and becoming a doctor, then settling to try and become a nurse practitioner, and for now even getting a bachelor degree has been demolished, I have pushed myself to the point that every bone in body hurt. Where my nerves were so raw that it felt like someone was scratching their nails down a chalkboard or putting bare wire in water, and even worse, triggering hours of intense nausea that kept me from eating or functioning until it passed.
Why, in hopes that this puzzle book, that poetry video, blog, notebook, or activity pack would be the one to take off and earn more than a buck or two here and there. That at last, my dedication and perseverance, my willingness to work until my body said no more, would at last be rewarded. And success, even a little droplet of success, would finally come my way. And finally the pain of having to spend a lifetime on the sidelines watching my family, my neighbors, my classmates, and you tubers get their dream job, graduate from school, some become doctors, get engaged, married, have kids, buy their dream home, and live the life that will never be mine, wash away.
In that one crushing moment I felt that bitter weight of failure. That agony of knowing that no matter what I do, no matter how hard I struggle, I will never know the thrill of success or the joy of being a part of life. For good or for bad, for some reason all of my best efforts have ended up in a sea of tears that could not be kept in a hundred bottles for their multitude.
It has taken a lot of effort, but most days I am able to bury the pain of missing out on life’s dearest mile markers. It is not easy, but most of the time I can put on a brave enough face to convince those who long to be convinced that I am content not to marry and have kids, that I am satisfied to be forgotten as I sit on the sideline and watch the world go by.
Thankfully, the effort to make my books and humble little videos, keeps just the tiniest enough sliver of hope alive, that most days I can ignore the deep ache in my heart. Over and over I tell myself today will be the day, and if not, surely tomorrow will be the one. Perhaps this book will the book that will change the course of my life and allow me to enjoy the pleasure of earning my own living.
But tonight, when yet another hope crumbled into a billion particles of dust, I had to admit defeat. In spite of all my pushing myself to the point of being bedridden, the multitude of missed meals and hours of sleep, and countless other little and major sacrifices so that I might finally hold up my head instead of always having to hold out my hand, I have gotten nowhere. In a cruel twist of fate, the classrooms full of students who barely made an effort, have enjoyed the thrill of victory, have known the joys and frustrations of work, love, and family, while I, the one who gave every ounce of her feeble strength, have only tasted failure and disappointment. And all my hard work and dedication has only netted my aches, pains, infections, migraines, emergency room visits, loneliness, tears, broken dreams, and more.
Will I rise or will I fall? Will the day ever come when my hard work will translate into something greater than an empty dream, unfilled longings, and a quietly broken heart? Will I ever know the joy of finding true love, of earning my own wage, or at least being able to earn enough that every once and a while I can have the pride of being able to say, it may seem expensive to you, but its my money and I think its worth it? I do not know. But it sure seems like on this earth, success will never be mine no matter how hard I try.
The only thing that I can do is give my broken dreams to God and ask Him to dry the tears of my heart and give me the strength to get up tomorrow and keep on fighting until there is no more time to fight. And trust that one day He will keep His promise to swallow up the years that the locust have eaten up, and exchange all my tears for shouts of joy and happiness.
Have you ever had one of those days where your mind is bursting with ideas and plans, but your body feels like it is weighs a ton and all you want to do is crawl into bed. For me today is one of those discombobulated days where my mind is longing to work. I had a post that I wanted to share about the day my family got Happy. But even though half the post is already composed in my head, my tired and achy body rebels at the thought of sitting down and trying to type out the lines.
So instead I thought I would share a poem that I had written a few years back that was inspired by the frustration of having to deal with the debilitating fatigue created by chronic health issues like iron deficiency anemia, fibromyalgia, and more.
Happy Sabbath. I hope that you enjoy this short acrostic poem about this wonderful blessing from God.
Good news, hopefully anemia will not be controlling my day much longer! I am scheduled to get my first infusion this Thursday. Which is great, because even with the occasional iron pill and daily drinking of the prune, Rasin, grape, and date drink, my hemoglobin is quickly dropping, and it is becoming harder to do even simple task like eating without becoming short of breath. My iron is getting so low that even though I am spending a few minutes in the sun nearly every day to get some natural vitamin D, I am becoming as pale as a ghost.
I am still not a fan of spending most of my day hooked up to an IV, but at this point it is an answer to prayer. It will be so nice to be able to do simple things like stand up and walk down the hallway or get something out of the microwave without becoming winded. While there are many big things, I want to do like complete 5 minutes of exercise on my total gym without gasping for breath or spending ten or fifteen minutes a day completing my next poetry or story book, it is the simple things of life that I am looking forward to.
Each time my iron drops so low, I am reminded how easily we forget the many little gifts that God has granted us. The ability to eat without feeling like you are going to suffocate, to bend down without fearing that your breath will be completely taken away, or comfortably walk a few feet without hyperventilating are all too often taken for granted. Too often we spend our lives chasing the big gifts, and think ourselves ill-used and believe that our prayers have been ignored because we do not receive the big bonus that we deserved, the funds to take our dream vacation, get a promotion, or some other desire of our heart.Continue reading “A Few More Days”