I am ridiculously blessed.
I know this, but sometimes it's just nice to remember.
(Yes I am saying this as the second of a double dose of panadeine/codeine wears off. Blame it on the drugs.)
The tooth extraction went well, so far as we know. The surgeon had to do a bone graft to get the implant in and I have x-rays this morning. At 5am the next morning (right now), the pain has reduced to a dull throb, but there's no seeping blood or pus so far as I can tell - maybe it'll take a few more days?
But I am reminded of how I am surrounded by love all around me.
My stepdad drove me to the appointment. My mum picked me up. My sister was willing to divert from going directly to her evening bible study to bring me yoghurt if I wanted it. A bunch of friends - Some chronic pain sufferers, some medical professionals themselves - advised alternatives if the codeine didn't work. My uncles (doctors) are willing to prescribe me stronger stuff if I need it, but a local friend is willing to slip me some if I can't get it in a timely manner. My bible study leader texted me saying she was thinking of me and could she bring me a meal, two nearby RL friends offered errand services, and another friend is going to call tomorrow since she's in another state and can't come by for snacks and snarks. I know several people who are praying for me since they're too far away to do practical things, but if they were close by I'd probably be swimming in soup. Maybe it's just as well that they're halfway across town! And my online friends have been very supportive and encouraging through the last six months of my health-tagged postings.
I whine a lot. Over really small things. I know people who struggle through life - even unto death. Not just Cousin T, but another friend I was remembering the other day - A - who died in the late 00s of a congenital defect that shouldn't have let her survive childhood, let alone halfway through her twenties. She was also a faithful Christian and I have no doubt that she, like T, is rejoicing in a body that works as it's supposed to, doing things that she never could in life - walking, running, moving freely instead of confined to a wheelchair.
Friends of mine live with chronic pain and/or depression, illnesses that limit them - that mean they need an aide to do anything - occasionally including getting out of bed, families they can't rely on. Not all of them have the certainty of the love of those around them, let alone the certainty of God's love - this life is all they have and they will cling to it with their (in some cases literally) dying breath.
And here I sit, surrounded by a cloud of witnesses, as Paul said, many of whom I could call up and ask a favour. And that's a blessing that I frequently discount.
So, praise be to the LORD of all understanding,
You have given me grace,
You have made my spirit whole in you,
You have set who I am to be before me,
You see me in glorious perfection - washed clean of my sin
Even when I fail.
My salvation is in you;
I can't do it alone.
Praise be to the LORD of relationships,
For a family who are the truth of human family,
For friends who are the truth of human friends,
For their prayers and their concern and their love-in-action.
Praise the LORD, oh my soul.
Wednesday, 18 May 2016
Tuesday, 17 May 2016
tooth extraction tomorrow
I feel rather like I've failed at my faith this last month, not doing half of what I should have done, and doing what I should not have done.
Tomorrow, I go in for the extraction of the back molar (the 17 molar, not the one which had the root canal earlier this year - that was the 16 molar) and a possible implant root put in if the surgeon thinks it can be done. Afterwards, we'll see how everything settles - whether it's going to settle and, if so, how long. It's very much a relief - this is kind of what I've been aiming for since late February - but couldn't get the dental professionals to agree with. And even then it's just the 17 molar, not the 16, which is still not entirely 'normal'.
And I find myself thinking about trust - about trusting in God's plan for me. Which is never easy, sinful and determined as I am to live my own life.
I don't trust God very much generally; I don't have to. But these last few months, I have had to and it's been good.
Of course, it's also been easy to slip back out of it again when things level out.
I think I need to set some time aside to read the bible, pray, and take time to be quiet and still. First thing in the morning (all those early morning wake-ups) would probably be ideal...
Tomorrow, I go in for the extraction of the back molar (the 17 molar, not the one which had the root canal earlier this year - that was the 16 molar) and a possible implant root put in if the surgeon thinks it can be done. Afterwards, we'll see how everything settles - whether it's going to settle and, if so, how long. It's very much a relief - this is kind of what I've been aiming for since late February - but couldn't get the dental professionals to agree with. And even then it's just the 17 molar, not the 16, which is still not entirely 'normal'.
And I find myself thinking about trust - about trusting in God's plan for me. Which is never easy, sinful and determined as I am to live my own life.
I don't trust God very much generally; I don't have to. But these last few months, I have had to and it's been good.
Of course, it's also been easy to slip back out of it again when things level out.
I think I need to set some time aside to read the bible, pray, and take time to be quiet and still. First thing in the morning (all those early morning wake-ups) would probably be ideal...
Tuesday, 26 April 2016
God's will and how I don't want to do it
It's been a quiet few weeks as the issues settle down.
1. The tooth is not entirely 'healed' - it still feels a little swollen in that part of the gum, the tooth itself feels not secure, a little 'squishy' when I bite down on it.
2. The diet has helped the RHS tingling, but the swelling remains, with no indication of why it's happening.
3. About three weeks ago, I noticed a kind of grinding noise when I turned my head from side to side, like little pieces of sand or gravel rubbing against each other where my spine met my skull. There's a sensation to it; it's not painful, just...I can feel the movement, the way I can't.
4. Still getting some aches of the skull and jaw; tension in the neck, etc.
I'm seeing a chiro for #3. Not sure it's getting better. I spoke to my GP (uncle) and he indicate it was probably old age. It's a little disconcerting, though, to hear your bones (probably bones) grinding against each other - and wondering if that's why I've got the swelling in the hand and the foot - the neural/paraesthesia issue.
I'm seeing the endodontist on Monday to start dealing with the tooth that has the chronic infection above it (the 17 molar). And I'm just hoping that this time it's as pain-and-stress free as the last one wasn't. I have an appointment with an oral surgeon the week after, just in case I need the 17 removed entirely. And hopefully dealing with the 17 and the infection will end the aches in the jaw and skull (right hand side) , the swelling in my hand and foot (right hand side) will subside.
Hopefully. If it's God's will.
That's a hard thing to say. What if God's will isn't what I want? And yet, if we serve God, then His will is what we want to execute.
And speaking of God's will...
One of the things I've found in April is that it can be really easy to remember God in the little things of life, but really hard to change habits. I can remember to pray while washing the dishes or hanging out the clothes - small things to remind me to give thanks, to say sorry, to pray for people - but actually sitting down and reading the bible? Difficult. Really really difficult. As much because I fear what God has to say to me and how it will change my life.
It's a terrible cowardice. One which we all face at times; and difficult to overcome. And it kind of has to be overcome again and again and again.
I'm reading 1 Corinthians with a friend - we're studying it this year with a book by a guy called Vaughn Roberts - Pure Spirituality.
1. The tooth is not entirely 'healed' - it still feels a little swollen in that part of the gum, the tooth itself feels not secure, a little 'squishy' when I bite down on it.
2. The diet has helped the RHS tingling, but the swelling remains, with no indication of why it's happening.
3. About three weeks ago, I noticed a kind of grinding noise when I turned my head from side to side, like little pieces of sand or gravel rubbing against each other where my spine met my skull. There's a sensation to it; it's not painful, just...I can feel the movement, the way I can't.
4. Still getting some aches of the skull and jaw; tension in the neck, etc.
I'm seeing a chiro for #3. Not sure it's getting better. I spoke to my GP (uncle) and he indicate it was probably old age. It's a little disconcerting, though, to hear your bones (probably bones) grinding against each other - and wondering if that's why I've got the swelling in the hand and the foot - the neural/paraesthesia issue.
I'm seeing the endodontist on Monday to start dealing with the tooth that has the chronic infection above it (the 17 molar). And I'm just hoping that this time it's as pain-and-stress free as the last one wasn't. I have an appointment with an oral surgeon the week after, just in case I need the 17 removed entirely. And hopefully dealing with the 17 and the infection will end the aches in the jaw and skull (right hand side) , the swelling in my hand and foot (right hand side) will subside.
Hopefully. If it's God's will.
That's a hard thing to say. What if God's will isn't what I want? And yet, if we serve God, then His will is what we want to execute.
And speaking of God's will...
One of the things I've found in April is that it can be really easy to remember God in the little things of life, but really hard to change habits. I can remember to pray while washing the dishes or hanging out the clothes - small things to remind me to give thanks, to say sorry, to pray for people - but actually sitting down and reading the bible? Difficult. Really really difficult. As much because I fear what God has to say to me and how it will change my life.
It's a terrible cowardice. One which we all face at times; and difficult to overcome. And it kind of has to be overcome again and again and again.
I'm reading 1 Corinthians with a friend - we're studying it this year with a book by a guy called Vaughn Roberts - Pure Spirituality.
Tuesday, 29 March 2016
a new heaven and a new earth
I've always thought Easter is a little maligned by secular society. Christmas gets all the PR, but Easter is one of those 'fly by nights' - not a 'real holiday' at all. Then again, isn't that the primary response to the message of the cross?
This Easter, given my physical issues, I have been very very grateful for that message - the reminder that Christians, too, will be resurrected with Jesus. That if we died with him, we also will rise again with him. That these bodies are not final, that this is not all there is. It's a relief for me to think that, to carry that awareness of mortality, of a temporary existence.
On the health front, some answers, but not for the tooth.
The tingling appears related to diet - cutting out salicylates (tomatoes, onions, soy sauce, other strong-flavoured foods) has definitely helped, although having to live without the ibuprofen family of anti-inflammatories has made things more difficult since I've developed a swelling in the gum that doesn't appear to be going away.
A scan of my jaw found an abcess/chronic infection; it looks related to a tooth that had a root canal done on it fifteen years ago and hasn't given any trouble until now. The abcess might explain the swollen gum, but there's also doubts about that since the infection looks chronic - like it's been there for a while, just biding its time. My option is to get the root canal re-done, or to get it extracted. Each option has complication and issues related to it, and I need to pray for wisdom in my choices. But at least I have choices (given by a new dentist and endodontist, both of whom were a bit more helpful than my usual ones, who make me feel like I'm one in a production line).
At this point, my thought is to extract the tooth with the old root canal, clear out the infection underneath, and with that out of the way, start working out the gum swelling, the new root canal, and the physical issues that may very well be linked to the abcess. The old root canal needs to be fixed at some point; and with everything else going on, better to do it now and clear it out of the way.
What has this to do with Easter? Well, only in the sense that I spent this Easter very well aware that my body isn't working the way it should; the way I want it to. I ended up on antibiotics, and learned that I now have a limited number of 'spoons' to use in a day. I spent a lot of time trying not to fret over all the sensations in my body (and mostly failing), while cooking and preparing food that won't trigger intolerance symptoms.
And, perhaps surprisingly, giving thanks. Because I may not have perfect health anymore, but I have a sense of humour, and a house, and a family that loves me. I have a God who thought I was worth redeeming, even though I didn't naturally want to be redeemed. I have the hope of a new heaven and a new earth - of a new body that won't ever break down or fail or suffer food intolerances...
As lives go, that's pretty good. I have to learn to adjust, but, as my psychologist pointed out today, that's not a bad thing. Life is fluid, and we need to learn to live it in the now, not in the 'as it was'.
And this 'now' is not perfect, nor will ever be. So putting my faith in this rotting meatsack (thank you, Bender) is kind of pointless; it serves me well enough, so long as I'm serving the God who showed his love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.
Happy Easter!
This Easter, given my physical issues, I have been very very grateful for that message - the reminder that Christians, too, will be resurrected with Jesus. That if we died with him, we also will rise again with him. That these bodies are not final, that this is not all there is. It's a relief for me to think that, to carry that awareness of mortality, of a temporary existence.
On the health front, some answers, but not for the tooth.
The tingling appears related to diet - cutting out salicylates (tomatoes, onions, soy sauce, other strong-flavoured foods) has definitely helped, although having to live without the ibuprofen family of anti-inflammatories has made things more difficult since I've developed a swelling in the gum that doesn't appear to be going away.
A scan of my jaw found an abcess/chronic infection; it looks related to a tooth that had a root canal done on it fifteen years ago and hasn't given any trouble until now. The abcess might explain the swollen gum, but there's also doubts about that since the infection looks chronic - like it's been there for a while, just biding its time. My option is to get the root canal re-done, or to get it extracted. Each option has complication and issues related to it, and I need to pray for wisdom in my choices. But at least I have choices (given by a new dentist and endodontist, both of whom were a bit more helpful than my usual ones, who make me feel like I'm one in a production line).
At this point, my thought is to extract the tooth with the old root canal, clear out the infection underneath, and with that out of the way, start working out the gum swelling, the new root canal, and the physical issues that may very well be linked to the abcess. The old root canal needs to be fixed at some point; and with everything else going on, better to do it now and clear it out of the way.
What has this to do with Easter? Well, only in the sense that I spent this Easter very well aware that my body isn't working the way it should; the way I want it to. I ended up on antibiotics, and learned that I now have a limited number of 'spoons' to use in a day. I spent a lot of time trying not to fret over all the sensations in my body (and mostly failing), while cooking and preparing food that won't trigger intolerance symptoms.
And, perhaps surprisingly, giving thanks. Because I may not have perfect health anymore, but I have a sense of humour, and a house, and a family that loves me. I have a God who thought I was worth redeeming, even though I didn't naturally want to be redeemed. I have the hope of a new heaven and a new earth - of a new body that won't ever break down or fail or suffer food intolerances...
As lives go, that's pretty good. I have to learn to adjust, but, as my psychologist pointed out today, that's not a bad thing. Life is fluid, and we need to learn to live it in the now, not in the 'as it was'.
And this 'now' is not perfect, nor will ever be. So putting my faith in this rotting meatsack (thank you, Bender) is kind of pointless; it serves me well enough, so long as I'm serving the God who showed his love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.
Happy Easter!
Saturday, 12 March 2016
Isaiah 43 - they lie down, they cannot rise, and it is enough.
In the last four months my health has gone down very swiftly.
Starting with a slight swelling in my foot, working through a tooth filling gone seriously wrong, currently in a state of parasthesia (tingling and buzzing) in my right hand and right foot, and battling exhaustion, possibly due to all these issues converging together, possibly due to one of the 'nebulous' health maladies like CFS or Lyme Disease.
All the concrete tests have come back negative, and I'm struggling with my body and it's new limitations, when once I could do anything I wanted just about anytime.
It's been a rough and uncomfortable journey - not only physically, but mentally, and emotionally.
Spiritually... It's been uplifting in many ways.
I've had the call to comprehend my own mortality in the last year. Starting with my cousin T, whose last months of life were depicted in swift, sure strokes by our Creator's brush, before He took her home. An emotional and spiritual challenge for me: T was two weeks older than me and one of the people of my own age whom I admired greatly. We weren't close, but her life was a joy and a blessing, even from the distance that her energy levels required. And T was so certain of her faith, so sure in the resurrection of Jesus and of her own redemption all the way to the end. Did I carry that certainty, too?
The last few months have made me question who I am, why I'm here on this planet. It's made me understand the sinfulness of the world, and how sin has permeated everything - our broken and struggling bodies, our quenched and drowning spirits. Eternal life in these bodies would be hell, indeed. God has promised to make us anew - first spiritually, then, after death, in the new heaven and Earth that he's prepared for us.
Today's thoughts are based off the reading from my ABM Lent 2016 app:
Personally, I've always preferred Isaiah 40:31 "They that hope in the Lord will renew their strength..." So much more uplifting! So much more encouraging!
And yet, right now, it's harder to be uplifted and encouraged.
This passage spoke to me today.
Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old... One of the issues I'm struggling with right now is the prospect of all the things I haven't done. The things I thought I would have 'later' to do and quite possibly may not; certainly not as I imagined them. My physical strength these days is extinguished, quenched like a wick - I'm hoarding my energy to do the things that are most important right now.
I can't live in the past (and I'm going to find a psych to talk this through with); I have to look forward. And while I struggle with the loss of my physical capabilities and the prospect that this may be long-term, or even permanent, this verse reminds me that God is about to do a new thing; to make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. And I'm well aware that this 'way in the wilderness' may not necessarily be a physical improvement; that it might be a spiritual challenge to draw closer to God than I've been walking these last few years, and to meet Him in a place where I don't have the strength, but He does. I don't think that's a bad thing; I've become spiritually complacent in the last couple of years, and it's been troubling me - although not enough to do anything about it until this year.
"For I...give drink to my chosen people, the people whom I formed for myself so that they might declare my praise."
This has been something that I've learned in the last six months - that really hit home with T's life and her death: we are here to declare God's praise. That's all. It's a horrifying thing to someone who doesn't believe; aren't we worth more than this? But somehow, in the trembling knowledge that life is short and I may never leave the mark I wanted to leave on the world, it's enough for me to say, "I am here to declare God's praise."
I don't know if I can explain it, or if people reading this will understand, but it satisfies something in me.
Starting with a slight swelling in my foot, working through a tooth filling gone seriously wrong, currently in a state of parasthesia (tingling and buzzing) in my right hand and right foot, and battling exhaustion, possibly due to all these issues converging together, possibly due to one of the 'nebulous' health maladies like CFS or Lyme Disease.
All the concrete tests have come back negative, and I'm struggling with my body and it's new limitations, when once I could do anything I wanted just about anytime.
It's been a rough and uncomfortable journey - not only physically, but mentally, and emotionally.
Spiritually... It's been uplifting in many ways.
I've had the call to comprehend my own mortality in the last year. Starting with my cousin T, whose last months of life were depicted in swift, sure strokes by our Creator's brush, before He took her home. An emotional and spiritual challenge for me: T was two weeks older than me and one of the people of my own age whom I admired greatly. We weren't close, but her life was a joy and a blessing, even from the distance that her energy levels required. And T was so certain of her faith, so sure in the resurrection of Jesus and of her own redemption all the way to the end. Did I carry that certainty, too?
The last few months have made me question who I am, why I'm here on this planet. It's made me understand the sinfulness of the world, and how sin has permeated everything - our broken and struggling bodies, our quenched and drowning spirits. Eternal life in these bodies would be hell, indeed. God has promised to make us anew - first spiritually, then, after death, in the new heaven and Earth that he's prepared for us.
Today's thoughts are based off the reading from my ABM Lent 2016 app:
Thus says the Lord,
who makes a way in the sea,
a path in the mighty waters,
who brings out chariot and horse,
army and warrior;
they lie down, they cannot rise,
they are extinguished, quenched like a wick:
"Do not remember the former things,
or consider the things of old.
I am about to do a new thing;
now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness
and rivers in the desert.
The wild animals will honour me,
the jackals and the ostriches;
for I give water in the wilderness,
rivers in the desert,
to give drink to my chosen people,
the people whom I formed for myself so that they might declare my praise."
~ Isaiah 43:16-21 ~
Personally, I've always preferred Isaiah 40:31 "They that hope in the Lord will renew their strength..." So much more uplifting! So much more encouraging!
And yet, right now, it's harder to be uplifted and encouraged.
This passage spoke to me today.
Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old... One of the issues I'm struggling with right now is the prospect of all the things I haven't done. The things I thought I would have 'later' to do and quite possibly may not; certainly not as I imagined them. My physical strength these days is extinguished, quenched like a wick - I'm hoarding my energy to do the things that are most important right now.
I can't live in the past (and I'm going to find a psych to talk this through with); I have to look forward. And while I struggle with the loss of my physical capabilities and the prospect that this may be long-term, or even permanent, this verse reminds me that God is about to do a new thing; to make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. And I'm well aware that this 'way in the wilderness' may not necessarily be a physical improvement; that it might be a spiritual challenge to draw closer to God than I've been walking these last few years, and to meet Him in a place where I don't have the strength, but He does. I don't think that's a bad thing; I've become spiritually complacent in the last couple of years, and it's been troubling me - although not enough to do anything about it until this year.
"For I...give drink to my chosen people, the people whom I formed for myself so that they might declare my praise."
This has been something that I've learned in the last six months - that really hit home with T's life and her death: we are here to declare God's praise. That's all. It's a horrifying thing to someone who doesn't believe; aren't we worth more than this? But somehow, in the trembling knowledge that life is short and I may never leave the mark I wanted to leave on the world, it's enough for me to say, "I am here to declare God's praise."
I don't know if I can explain it, or if people reading this will understand, but it satisfies something in me.
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