Remembering the Falls

Looking over the past year, the most prevalent activity in the Thompson household was falling. Dean got the ball rolling the summer of 2011 when he fell on a curb and fractured his foot in three places. A few months later he stubbed and broke his little toe, on the other foot. Then he fell and cracked a rib. Another time he cut his knee up pretty bad, when he tripped and fell. And those were only the falls that produced injuries!

I made my contribution when I fell last spring and fractured my foot. I'll never forget the terrifying feeling of wondering who would take care of BOTH of us. When they showed me the "walking boot" I was to wear, I really shuddered. I had to help Dean put his on for months. There was no way he could return the favor. It was such a relief to find I could do it myself.

The hard part for me was using the walker and not putting pressure on the fractured foot, which translated to hopping everywhere I went. I would be short of breath after each hop. It was slow going, and miserable for my poor lungs, but I survived.

I don't know what the future holds, but I do know that, whatever it is, there is a God who will see us through. Just as He has this past year. We will survive all our falls, and God will take care of both of us.

New Year...bring it on!

My Elephant

All I want for Christmas is not to have this cold! (as in the "sick" kind)

So many others have had it though, I shouldn't complain. After all, I've managed to dodge the bullets since last July, so guess it's my turn to cough my way into oblivion and fill the wastebasket by my bed with enough Kleenexes to sink a battleship.

I've seen a television commercial, one of "drug dealing" ones, that illustrated the feeling of having C.O.P.D. with having an elephant sit on your chest. That is such an apt description of what breathing feels like with my deformed chest cavity too, even without a cold.

Fortunately, my lungs are not diseased, but they are wimpy. So when I get a cold, it tends to visit me longer, because I haven't got the lung capacity to cough all that mucus out of there like most people. I don't count the length of my colds in terms of how many days, but how many weeks.

Until my weeks are up, I'll just keep using my nebulizer and hope I only go through one box of tissues. And isn't that all we can expect out of life. Using the tools God gives us for spiritual survival on this doomed planet and pray for the day when our "tissue days" are a thing of the past.

Revelation 21:4 says "And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away."

Place for a Chair

Dean had his Christmas today when they finally delivered his lift chair. Long before Thanksgiving, when the home health nurse first suggested we try to get him one, she said not to get excited because we might not get one till Christmas.

I didn't believe that it would ever take that long. Especially after the medical supply store said they could deliver one the same day, just as soon as they got the proper documentation for it. Little did I know, the emphasis that was placed on the word "proper".

After preparing the place in the living room for the chair, I've been playing phone tag with the medical supply store and his doctor's office for several weeks now. Towards the end, I HAD to be the mediator. I don't think they were on speaking terms from the sounds of agitation in their voices. But we finally got the "proper" coding for his chair approved by Medicare, and Dean got his best Christmas present just two days late. It was well worth the wait. It's a nice chair.

Many of us are looking for Christ's Second Coming with the same excitement as we had for the chair. The wait is hard, and many are losing hope that it will ever come. But, God is using us as His mediators, and soon everything in the universe will be "proper" and the long-looked-for event will take place. We had better have a place prepared for it in our hearts, just like I had a place prepared in my living room.

Our Old Man

What a nice Christmas Eve dinner we had with family last night. I actually added two leafs and brought the dining room table into the living room, so we could all sit at the table to eat for a change. Was worried that the encroachment on Dean's living space might upset him, but since it came with the hope of some good eating, he was fine with it.

Then the star family members were two hours late in getting here. Another worry that Dean might not be able to handle the frustration that brought. But once again, I fed him tidbits and promised much more just as soon as they arrived, so he stayed remarkably cool about the delay.

In setting the table, I made sure that no bowls that people needed help dishing up were in front of Dean. I was going to give him a fork like the rest of us from the set, but then thought I better ask him and sure enough he required his own special fork, which I hastily switched out for him. I set him on the end of the table with ample room to maneuver around his chair. Then I made sure that salt and butter were placed at both ends of the table, right near Dean's place setting, to forestall any discord about passing them.

Surprisingly, he asked for black pepper though, which we hastily got from the kitchen for him. When he was done seasoning, his plate resembled one big deviled egg. He choked on the first bite of "black" mashed potatoes, but to our amazement managed to devour all the food on his plate.

Opening gifts later was a cinch. There were just enough chocolates and candy gifts for Dean to open to keep him happily satisfied. We all tried to oblige him when he offered us chocolate covered cherries, as stuffed as we were. Just to prevent him from eating the whole box himself. At least we prevented a few of the pieces from getting to their victim.

From the sounds of my report, this whole event revolved around one old man. But maybe there's something instructive and symbolic about our family's involvement in taking care of this old man of ours. Christmas is about a Baby, but it's also about the Man we call our God. Shouldn't all our activities focus on Him too?

No Excuse

Dean has been asking several times if we could ride around and look at Christmas lights some evening, which was rather surprising. He's never been too interested in them other years. But tonight I set out to give him his wish. I had heard of an impressive light show at a house on the outskirts of town.

Even before we got to the first McDonald's on our prepared route though, Dean began hinting that a hamburger or a shake would be nice too, which confirmed my suspicions that he may have had another motive for his budding holiday spirit.

We got to the address I was given though, after a few detours, and the cars in front of us began slowing down and finally stopped in front of the light extravaganza. We were just beginning to see what we'd come for, when Dean started informing me that he needed to use the bathroom and we'd better head back home--quick. Remembering his recent bouts with diarrhea, I passed all the stopped vehicles and we barely got to see the light show, as we quickly sped home for his requested "pit stop".

As we almost reached our driveway, Dean, whose memory has been worse than usual lately, wondered why we were coming home so soon. I reminded him that he was needing to use the bathroom, but that we at least got out to the house with all the lights. He then chided me for not telling him the purpose of our ride and that he would have looked longer at the lights while we were out there had he known it was our destination and purpose.

I'm not sure how many emotions I was smothering about then, but I'm sure my hair has several more gray strands after our little outing.

I know God has been forthright to me about my destination and purpose in life too. It's all right there in the Bible. Jesus, the Light of the World, is there for all of us to see. There's really no excuse for not taking a long, unhurried look.

Spinning Tires

As always, with the first, fresh snow on our streets, I joined the many cars today who found themselves spinning their tires and not getting enough traction to make it out into the intersection after stopping. At least not with the first try. One is forced to rock back and forth, going from drive to reverse, turning the front tires different directions, in embarrassing attempts to grab onto something that allows you to move forward with the traffic.

That's kind of how my whole week has felt. The challenges of Dean's medicines, their side effects versus their benefits, getting his lift chair approved, searching the internet, playing phone tag with doctors, nurses, the pharmacist, the medical supply store, and not really getting anywhere. I feel like I just can't get any traction and get myself out of this slippery slide of caregiving.

But thankfully, tonight is the beginning of the Sabbath. A whole day designed to help me get some traction and move on with my life with a renewed sense of purpose and gratitude. When the Sabbath is done, I'll feel a sense of relief once again. Just like it felt when I finally got into the intersection today and started moving toward my destination. And it especially feels good when your destination is heaven.

Snow in the Morning

My life has slowed down considerably, as far as outside-the-home activities, since Dean's recent weight, sleep, and drug issues. To compound our isolated status, a blizzard is in the forecast for tonight. Everyone is making their final trips to the store, gearing up for the snow we've all been waiting for and dreading at the same time. The beauty of seeing new snow on the ground in the morning will make staying home worth it for awhile at least.

I look forward to another beautiful sight too. Seeing my loved ones on Resurrection Morning. Today, half out of boredom, I moved a bookcase from the living room into my bedroom. On it were pictures and mementos of my dear, departed parents. The caregiving for them was also marked with boredom and isolation--that time in their hospital room.

I'm tired of being isolated from loved ones, but especially from my Jesus. That will be the sweetest sight of all on Resurrection Morning. Jesus coming in the clouds to bring us all home with Him. And what a glorious, heavenly home that will be.

Minnie at her watchdog post--foot of my bed! She's such good company too!