Caregiving for Me

Two weeks ago I came down with a monster cold. It was so bad even the first day, with my wimpy lungs, that I went to see the doctor for some additional medicines. Even though I had already started using my nebulizer and cough expectorant, I knew that prednisone and even an antibiotic would probably be added. And it was.

I still went home with the fear that this cold would not end without a call to 911 when my coughing spasms would turn into a choking episode. With less than half of my lungs functioning due to a deformed chest cavity (scoliosis), I just don't have the pulmonary power needed to cough up phlegm or even a tiny piece of food or water that might get lodged in my windpipe.

Three days later after an intense coughing spell, I had the phone in my hand almost ready to punch the 911, before I started to get my breath back. A week after that I actually did dial the 911 when I started to choke again, but told the paramedics I was alright and they didn't have to come.

The very next morning I had to call 911, when I couldn't get any air due to the phlegm closing off my breathing. Even though I had thankfully started breathing by the time they got there, and was using my nebulizer, they insisted I needed to go in to ER. Still in my nightgown, I thought to ask for my purse as we went out the door.

The worse part of my ambulance ride was when I looked in my purse and didn't see my car keys! Sometimes I just leave them lying by the purse and sometimes they are in. I was terrified that Dean would get in the car and drive himself to the hospital! He would be OK driving even though he hasn't been a licensed driver for fifteen years, but would he actually be able to find his way to the hospital without getting lost? I doubted it.

My cell phone was in my purse, however, so I managed to call my daughter when I got to the hospital. Bless her heart, her dad had called her about what had happened, just as she was getting off her night shift and gotten almost asleep. But she said she was on the way to the hospital. I tried to divert her to our house first, but she was determined to be by my side and was almost there.

The happy ending was that after a few tests and they didn't see pneumonia or any sign of infection, I was allowed to go home before noon, with another round of meds to get filled at the drug store. I was so thankful that my daughter was there to take me home, and the house was still standing when we got there, although Dean had been pretty shook up over it all.

I had assumed that he would go ahead and take his van to his day program that day, but he hadn't been able to get his socks on, so had stayed home. How could this man have taken care of himself, if I had been admitted to the hospital? I hope I never find out. But it was comforting to know that my daughter and son-in-law are here to step up to the plate and help. I even have a nephew fifty miles away, who would have dropped everything to come, had I needed him.

One thing that brought a smile was when Dean and I went to church this weekend, and they handed him a microphone to share a prayer request. He asked that people pray that his wife not have another coughing "spree". Yep, that described it pretty well. Some people have shopping sprees; I have coughing sprees.

I was indeed thankful that prayers did see us both through this eventful week. But as soon as I feel better, I'm going shopping instead.

my "at home" hospital

The Shirt

My usual practice isn't to be out shopping on Black Friday, but it just so happened that I found myself in a store today with my nephew, when I found a plaid flannel shirt that would be perfect for Dean. It is heavy enough, with its quilted lining, to keep him warm in the winter. And since he's been pretty coat-resistant these days, and yet saying he's cold in the house at times, this shirt seemed like the perfect answer for him.

When I brought it home, he liked it immediately with it's snaps for buttons. He put it on his T-shirt-bare frame, and even came up to me just before bedtime and said it might even make a nice nightshirt. Thankfully, he did take it off though before retiring. Had me worried.

God has offered me a special robe too. It will keep me warm in all kinds of weather. It's also a free gift. I can do nothing to earn it. He delights in seeing me so in love with His robe of righteousness that I will choose to wear it forever. It's a one-size-fits-all. Why would I ever want to take it off?

Notice his rolled-up sleeves. I don't know why I bother with tall sizes!

Missing Eyeglasses

Yesterday my daughter called and asked if her eyeglasses were still on the dining room table where she left them earlier in the day, when she was visiting here. I remember her distinctly putting them there, so we were both mystified when they showed up missing again from the table.

The first place I looked this time was on Dean's face. (See August 2012 "Connecting the Dots".) He was sporting thin-wired glasses, but they were bifocals, so we deemed him innocent this time. Then I checked the floor under the table and by the computer, but all were empty of anyone's glasses. By now, I was feeling innocent myself. The eyeglasses were evidently somewhere besides my house.

Then this morning as my nephew and I were about to walk out the door by the dining room table to leave for his work, he almost stepped on a pair of wire-framed glasses on the floor. They were invisible, lying on my dark-patterned carpet. It was fortunate that they didn't get crushed underfoot. Somehow they must have gotten knocked off the table and onto the floor, which proved to be a perfect hiding place for them.

God has promised to be a hiding place for us. When we get knocked around by life's trials, when trouble is looking for us, and when the pressures of life are about to crush us, God conceals us protectively amidst the pattern of His will. Seek His will and it will sustain you and lift you up in the end.

All For a Q-Tip

I was up rather late last night, simply because I had been babysitting for the grandchildren at their house earlier. Suddenly I heard a loud thud and a familiar moan come from the room next to me. I rushed in to see that Dean had once again fallen. This time he was sitting on the floor of his closet, and simply asked me to help him up.

After much effort to get him back in bed, my nephew heard the ruckus and came in to help him get up from the floor. I asked Dean what he was doing out of bed and he said he got up to get a Q-tip. What a price to pay for a Q-tip. But once again there didn't seem to be any injuries to report, so we tried to make light of it and all went back to bed.

How many times we pay enormous prices for the momentary pleasure of something as fleeting as a Q-tip? It makes you want to examine your life for anything that just isn't worth the cost of your salvation. God has a better plan that won't end up with us helpless on the floor, needing others to help us up.

"A Spit and a Promise"

This day has been full of memories. It was my dad's birthday today. He would have been 83. What a coincidence that my nephew would think of washing the car today. It's my dad's car that I inherited two years ago. My parents kept it immaculately washed, waxed, and detailed numerous times a year. Often by their own sweat and muscle.

I feel close to my mom and dad whenever I use their car. They used it to drive to a local truck stop every evening to relax and socialize with friends. It was more than a vehicle for them. It was a link to the outside world. I know they were more proud of it than they were their old house.

Thank you, Jason, for reviving some memories for me today. Mom and Dad may be gone from this world, but their car lives on, as do our memories of them both. They live on in our hearts. We look forward to seeing them again on that glorious Resurrection Morning. God has promised a grand reunion for His people.

Here they are at the truck stop a few years ago...

After a good wash, it still shines!

Yard Swing

My outdoor front yard swing got a makeover today. My nephew spray painted it for the first time since we've had it--over ten years now. It has kept amazingly well, minus a few rust spots. But now it looks so fresh and new and I know it will last many more years with the kind of paint we used.

One of our in-laws had a birthday party tonight. It had to be a surprise one, because he probably wouldn't have attended had he known the festivities were about him. But it was a milestone birthday and his family just couldn't bear to let it go unnoticed.

As with each new decade of life we enter, there surely are some mixed feelings about it for us. We all know these bodies of ours don't stay young forever. We start to rust out, just like my old swing. And it is a bit intimidating to think of entering a different stage of life.

But different can also be good. I think my old swing, newly painted, will be around awhile, barring the Lord's return. And I think we can count on the same thing, even if we do need a fresh coat of paint at times (or a new fitness program) to get us through the years. We can continue to provide a restful oasis for tired souls, just like the comfortable old swing right out my front door.

God Moments

Yesterday my daughter had a "God moment" when she felt the presence of God in the comforting embrace of a woman who looked just like her grandmother. She was at the animal shelter for an orientation for volunteers and couldn't take her eyes off another volunteer who looked just like my mother, who passed away in 2010. And the tears really came when she introduced herself as Patty, which was Grandma's name! It felt like a long overdue hug from Grandma. Coincidence? Or God ordained?

Then I've been thinking lately that I would sure like to find my nephew a nice microwave at a garage sale this summer, since he's moving into an apartment that doesn't have one. Funds are tight for both of us, but this morning I noticed a sign for a garage sale right up the street with several apartment garages hosting sales. I pulled in, never knowing that the first garage I would walk up to had a table with something on it I could hardly believe. A brand new microwave someone was selling for the ridiculously low price of ten dollars! And that was the exact amount of money I had in my purse! Coincidence? Or God ordained?

I thank God for these God moments. For the realization that He is at my side, and at the side of my family. He knows our needs, even before we ask. His presence is not only real, but is close by us on a personal level...if we are looking for Him.

Here's Kayla getting a hug from Grandma Patty when they were out shopping a few years ago.

And here is the miracle microwave!

Spring in Heaven

I wouldn't have thought that my nephew from Florida, where they enjoy greenery and tropical trees all year round, would be so excited about a simple vegetable garden here in Nebraska. After his first winter back up North, he has really been thrilled to work with the soil and witness the growth of tiny seeds and plants that he labored so hard to get started.

I think the seasonal changes we experience here make us appreciate the growth and colors of plants so much more. The harshness of winter weather only enhances the spring fever that captivates so many of us. Our salad with dinner tonight tasted so much better with the radishes that we grew ourselves in our very own yard.

Gardening seems to make us feel closer to God, because without His sunshine and rain, nothing would grow. We are partners with Him in a sense. But another reason I think people in general get so much more excited about gardens here in the North is that it follows a long period of cold, unpleasant weather and nature all around us wakes up and becomes green with life again.

It will be the same feeling when we get to heaven. We'll enjoy it all the more because of the hardships endured here on earth during our lifetimes. It will be like entering the most beautiful springtime, multiplied by infinity. I can't wait to wake up in the springtime of heaven and warm up to His love firsthand.

Just a Tree

Thirteen years in this house and I've always wanted to do something with this tree in my front yard. My mom even hinted about it when she was still alive, suggesting that it would be a good place to plant hostas. But it's just been such a low priority with everything else to do around here that nothing ever got done to the tree. The weeds that took root and grew around the tree every year were always an eyesore. I tried planting some wildflowers once, but nothing happened.

Today my nephew and son-in-law, in an attempt to please me, got inspired to do something with my embarrassingly ugly tree. So they cut down the weeds, put some plastic down, then some mulch, and straightened up the border. Simple, inexpensive, and not even very time-consuming. But, oh what a difference it made to my front yard! Why did we wait so long?

Indeed, why do I wait so long to do many things in my life? Sometimes I do pull or cut down some bad habit weeds, but if that's all I do, it won't last. The decision has to be made, efforts have to taken, costs have to be paid, and remedial beautification work has to be done. It isn't always easy, but the result will make all the difference.

I'll undoubtedly be making beautification changes to my character till the day I die. Just as the housing projects will never all get done, there will always be character changes calling for my attention.

I'm keeping my eye on those eaves and gutters for the house before next winter, guys. Thanks for keeping this ol' house serviced for me. I lost my handyman husband, but gained a son-in-law and nephew. You are treasures.

Ants in the Kitchen

 

No one likes to see ants in the kitchen. For some reason, they have infiltrated mine this past week. First I saw one or two, then three or four, and I don't even like to think how many are at this very minute marching on the wall behind my sink and faucet.

At first I sprayed from a can of ant killer that I had from a few years back. Then my nephew sprayed them with a bigger sprayer we got recently for indoor and outdoor bugs. But we are still seeing them. These are little and persistent little pests. They may be small, but are mighty in numbers. And that's what I worry about most--the fact that soon there will be a vast army of the little critters.

We are tiny creatures too, when you think of the whole, big universe out there. Our real strength is in our numbers. God created us to populate the whole earth. He made us the social creatures we are. But Satan has launched an attack on the human race. He's the great exterminator, and only with God's power can we withstand his assaults.

You've got to admire the tenacity of those tiny ants. So far, they have survived us. Will we survive Satan?