Looking for Positive

April 18, 2018

Looking for Positive

Sometimes it is hard to stay positive. I’d like to believe that I’m always thinking about how whatever I experience is working toward God’s glory and find a positive attitude, but that just isn’t reality. It is still a struggle for me to not drop myself into negative thoughts, worry, and the downward, hard-on-myself spiral that leads into depression.

For instance: I just got out of a three-day hospital stay for what I consider the silliest thing ever – an asthmatic allergic reaction to black mold.

History: I’d been sick since the day after our van was busted in (February 19, 2018) with what I originally thought was a cold. March 1, I went to the clinic, transferred to the ER, and diagnosed with pneumonia. Major allergic reaction (common for me is body-covered-in-chicken-pox-like-rash) to my antibiotic after 9 days led to another clinic visit because it appeared to be affecting my breathing too. They did a breathing treatment and gave me an inhaler. April 3, I went back to the clinic because I was not being able to breathe again. Breathing treatment, felt great, finished my responsibilities for that evening and woke up on the 4th almost unable to breathe. ER again. New diagnosis – no pneumonia, mild upper respiratory infection. New antibiotic, steroid, and same inhaler with orders to use it more.

On April 12, I’d finished the antibiotic, the steroid, and the inhaler. The next afternoon, I went to the clinic because I was struggling to breathe again and was, for the first time, coughing up colored (infected) mucus. They did two breathing treatments and reissued the inhaler.

On April 13, about midnight, I was unable to breathe again. I could feel there was space, but the air seemed to get “caught” just at the base of my neck. I felt my heart rate racing. My head kept trying to make me panic. My mind and lungs felt like I was at the bottom of a wave underwater with the air in sight but no way to get to the air. I kept praying for God to open up my lungs. Louis came home and instantly took me back to the ER. This time I almost fainted getting to the door; I almost passed out several times but kept forcing myself not to because I thought it was “mental” and I should be able to “handle it.”

The admitting doctor said I had “septic pneumonia” (this meant the pneumonia had gone “septic” and traveled in my body) and was reacting to the double breathing treatment & inhaler. (Side effects were listed as heart palpitations, etc.) He issued an IV antibiotic which caused a severe reaction (fever, my whole upper body went red, my larynx swelled, etc). That was scary! So I ended up in ICCU. That wasn’t accurate, but it was their first guess.

The final diagnosis was an asthmatic reaction to black mold. The pneumonia had been cleared in March, but a “small” infection was still “sitting” in my upper respiratory tract. The pulmonologist (lung specialist) said it was a reaction to something that had entered my “life” in or before December. New pet for Christmas? Nope. But when we turned off our Air Conditioning to save money in November, we discovered as we lost the A/C’s dehumidifying effect that we had black mold in the rental house. We’d saved for a few months to get a dehumidifier (in February, just after I got sick with the cold/pneumonia) and dried the house up. All the mold was cleaned and gone… except for our bed mattress. We’d attempted drying and cleaning it, and thought we’d done it, but it was a foam mattress and therefore didn’t completely dry.

I HAD BEEN SLEEPING ON THE ALLERGEN!

That made perfect sense. I’d always felt worse in the morning, it’d clear up some at work, if I laid down for a nap (trying to rest so I could get better) I felt worse.

Louis burned the mattress. (He was mad that something so stupid had almost “lost me” and I was like “just throw it away” but it was almost new and he didn’t want anyone to pick it up and use it.) He winked, “the Bible says you burn mold.” Boys… and I couldn’t argue with that.

As I was feeling better (actually, all through this sickness), I kept seeing dollar signs every time a CNA, nurse, or respiratory therapist came in the room to scan my bracelet with a new medicine. We have catastrophic insurance, but that means we have to find $15,000 before our insurance will pay anything. The clinic visits were $75 each, and we had only just started trying to pay from the first hospital visit (so far, $1200, but there may be another bill from March). We had to save for a dehumidifier… we don’t even have money saved to move to another home. (Although, we like our rental house, but Louis says we’ll drop it in a heartbeat if my breathing issue comes back.) So, it was hard to see positive while in the hospital.

I had to try to stay positive; I kept reminding myself that God says a cheerful heart does good like medicine. (Thus, outside of a gem of a Matlock show mentioned next to the Sunday paper crossword, I didn’t want to watch the TV.)

Becca, one of my sisters, brought a book I devoured. It was “In This House we will Giggle” by Courtney DeFoe. One of the volunteers on Sunday saw me doing the crossword and brought three word searches with blank white backs!

WRITING PAPER!!

One was filled with the outline for number five in “The Devonians” series (probably will be called “Convincing the Council,” but I haven’t decided yet). The other two became my journal pages with notes, quotes, Bible verses, and thoughts from or inspired by this awesome “Giggle” book. The whole idea of that book in a nutshell is this: Mom, release your worry, perfectionism, and expectations to God and learn how to choose to rejoice in everything so you can set a joyful example and cultivate godly virtues in your children. I loved reading about someone who was like me. I read that book from cover to cover four times before midnight.

On the way to pick up the girls from college the next day, I listened to one of my favorite Radio teachers, Chip Ingram. God must be making sure this message gets through because Chip’s message was about giving everything up to God, accepting that in whatever way God chooses to heal us, modern medicine (God taught us that), unexplained miracles (I’ve seen those too), or health and nutrition changes (that’s my lifestyle anyway), the glory is all still God’s.

God is more concerned with our attitude during our struggle than the outcome.

This reminds me of a character in “The Robe” (great movie): She’s a cripple who is telling the Roman “infiltrator” about her journey from bitterness to joy. He says, “but why didn’t Jesus just heal you?” She replies, “then I would be expected to be joyful, wouldn’t I?” BOOM.

God has shown us what the underlying cause for my continued illness. Thank you Jesus! I can avoid it.

God has shown me that my nutrition was fine. (The Dr said my body had enough nutrition it should have fought off the infections easily, even my iron levels were good.) Amen!

I met a nurse who has a 16-year-old homeschooled son and that greatly encouraged me in my family’s homeschool journey.

God has led us to wisdom and we’ve removed danger before it affected any of the children or Louis.

God will provide a way for us to financially cover this bill (even though it’s like a year’s rent – I can trust Him to provide us a means to pay it off). Just like we trust Him for day-to-day needs, He will cover this one too.

This is my brother’s birthday and he’s coming down this weekend – and I’m so much better than I’ve felt since January! Thank you, Jesus! My throat is clear so I can sing, my ears aren’t clogged, and my nose is open so I can smell!

I am a vendor at the Family Fun Fest in downtown Saint Augustine on the 28th of April and I’m going to be feeling awesome instead of tired and run down! I have such a positive air of expectation about this show (have since we signed up in November) and want the girls to have fun! Thank you, Jesus!

I refuse to allow the devil to draw me down into depression this time. I will find blessings in this mess (there are many!) and praise God through it even when I don’t feel like it. Let the challenge to find positivity begin!

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

The Demon – (aka jab test)

March 2, 2018

The Demon (aka jab test)

Well, it ended up that the evening of the day someone broke into our van and I got sick, it wasn’t just a fever and go thing.  The fever didn’t want to go away (all my life low fever & cough might take a while, but rest, food, and a few days and it’s usually gone) and the cough felt deep and odd.  I have a sneaky feeling I’ve fought this off before (as a kid, when “sleep, hot potato soup, and pink medicine” made it disappear in a week) but at this stage in my life the distant memory of a thing called “sleep” and the vibrant energy of my work and home was not working in my favor.  Nine days and low fever, I wasn’t doing a good enough job – I needed antibiotics.

I didn’t want to go to the clinic because, although Louis thinks we have a “plan” nothing ever works in my family’s favor financially when I get hurt/sick.  So I was worried about the cost of clinic plus antibiotics.   Louis is like, the clinic is free.  (no, it was $75)  Then when I see a doctor, she’s like “we can’t help you because your O2 (oxygen) levels are too low, you have to go to the ER.” (2 pts, just 2pts!)

Really?  I was so frustrated and totally wanted another clinician’s opinion as hopefully someone would just give me the antibiotic I needed and send me home.  I did not want thousands of dollars of garbage so I could get a bottle of pills.  (I knew it was pneumonia: why couldn’t I just call old man Gower’s Drugs and get a prescription delivered to my house?  I don’t care how many release of liability forms I have to sign.)

Instead, Louis has my mom on the phone when he picks me up – and instead of trying Healing Arts for a second opinion (where I wanted to go in the first place) – it’s just ER.  (Oh, side note?  I think the O2 machine at the clinic was straight-up-kooky-dooks because my O2 levels at the ER?  94.)  Supposedly way higher than at the clinic.  No wonder the physician looked at me like I was hissing words. And have you ever done a flu “jab” test?  (I will 100% avoid the hospital FOREVER simply because of that demon – I now have a fear worse than needles! this makes my white-coat-phobia totally valid!)  After that assault, my perfectly healthy nose was bleeding, swollen, running, and the next CNA to enter asked if I had been like this for 9 days?  (HAHA, no, some dude jabbed a stick up my nose, and this eyes watering and burning, nose running, bloody discharge, is brand new.  Want to know how afraid of this place I was before this?  Now you won’t get me in IF I’m really dying.)

At least these two came in to do the one thing needed that I guess a clinic can’t do.  XRay.  Bingo, with that picture, even a laymen could see junk in half of my left lung.  Great.  The blood guy (who used to work with Louis – everyone in this town knows Louis) asks if I know why I’m here.  I’m like, yes, pretty sure what I thought was a normal cold with a cough is pneumonia.  He asks about pain.  Only in my nose.  Supposedly there’s great chest pain associated with pneumonia that I had lacked to mention (guess my body is just a unique biological specimen – maybe that’s why taking Benadryl for a few bites turns my entire body into a solid rash worse than chicken pox for a week).  Louis says I have a huge pain tolerance.

Becca, Mom, and Anastasia show up (I’m sure Becca is here just to remind me of children.) By this time they know its pneumonia the only guess is am I staying?  Another nurse does a breathing treatment, during which Becca is constantly asking me questions and I’m giving her eyes.  Anastasia sits with her Ipad and Minnie Mouse and is smiling.  Louis still looked worried.  Then we’re told, “oh, you can go home, we’re just waiting on paperwork.”  A pill for 10 days with orders to sleep and not work.  (WHO am I kidding??  That isn’t going to happen.  But I will try my best.)

So I’m home, trying to rest playing a weird game with my girls.  The perfect question pops up (this is some teen personality game for “what faction would you be in Divergent” so I do not know why this question is there) it reads “you are trapped on an island with your crush: you do… a) b) c) d) or e) relax and enjoy! You finally have some alone time!  (And this is making me laugh the entire evening away – because I’d totally be YIPPPEEEE NO PHONES because I could totally go all Swiss Family Robinson and LOVE it forever as long as my family was there.)

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

 

 

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