People have been asking me for awhile when I would update my blog. I've been thinking about it - had a couple ideas. But recounting the last 24 hours seemed like a good place to start. So here we go - enjoy!
I'm sitting here watching the news with endless criticism, what-ifs, nightmare stories, etc. of Snowmagedon 2014 that hit greater Atlanta. There was a time I was frustrated too. It took 24 hours for me to get from work to my home from the moment I left the parking lot at my downtown office to walking in the door at my house to the relief of my stranded dog. This included an attempt to drive up I-75 in my car for 8.5 hours, an over-night sleep-over at my brother and sister-in-laws house and a 3-mile slippery drive from their house to mine.
But as I also watch the news, and think back on my adventure, I'm focusing more on the stories of average people turning heroes in this adversity. Here are a few of my heroes I want to highlight.
-I have to first start with one of my mentors, Susan Norris. I was at her house Monday night and she encouraged me to fill up my gas tank before going home. Thanks to her advice, I had a full tank of gas on my journey - and what as even cooler blessing was I still have 3/4 of a tank of gas after 8.5 hours on the road.
-My boss Brittany Burnett: she encouraged all of us to head home early hoping to get us home safe before things got bad. But when several of us got stuck and spent hours getting home, she stayed constantly engaged until every one of us made it home.
-The numerous friends and family that called me throughout my 8.5 hour trek to offer encouragement, tips for driving in the ice and just making sure I was ok. Every time I thought I was going to lose it from frustration, my phone would ring and it would be someone I love calling. While I was alone in my car, I felt the love and prayers sending my way. I even had one person remind me I have survived worse - thanks for putting things in perspective. I also talked to people as far south as my aunt in south Georgia and my friend Jason Florida (I probably could have driven to see them in the time it took me to get home, but I digress).
-My friend Elise, her sister Katelyn and my neighbors: When I called to say I may be late getting home (not knowing how long the ordeal would be) Elise and Katelyn went over to check on my dog Isabelle for me. And when I finally realized I wasn't going to make it home that night, they relayed a message to my neighbor who took care of Isabelle through the night and committed to doing it until I got home safely, no matter how long that was. Such a relief to know my puppy was ok.
-My big brother Franklin. After walking home 10 miles from his office, he offered numerous times to walk and meet me wherever I was if I wanted to ditch my car. I eventually made it to their exit, but got stuck on ice going up a hill about a mile from the house. One quick phone call later, he was out in the snow to come and rescue me. He and a co-worker, who was also stranded out their house, pushed my car off the ice and told me to just keep driving to their house to avoid getting stuck again. When they didn't show up right behind me, I got a little worried. They finally did show up, after helping at least one more car up that same hill. I had to admit to my parents that Franklin was "being the bestest."
-My sister-in-law Jessica: She played a great host for the night - from providing me warm and comfy clothes to wear to cooking a great dinner and breakfast. She also constantly checked on me the night before and as I drove the 3 miles home from her house.
-My nephew Tripp: An exciting child can make any bad situation good. While it was early, it warmed my heart to be woken up my my 2-year-old nephew saying "A'hey, get up, time to play." He was so excited I was at his house to play and we talked about playing "ou'side, all day." I'm just sorry I left to make the trek home while he was napping. Apparently he woke up pretty upset.
-My mom, her staff and the rest of the Cobb School employees: Say what you want, but these people were heroes last night. They didn't stop until every child made it home safely. I know it wasn't the best scenario for kids to get stuck on buses or have to spend the night at school - but I'm thankful we have Cobb School employees who are willing to do whatever it takes to get kids home. And while my mom was trying to get everyone else's babies home yesterday and today, know that she was stressed out that one of her own babies (me) was stuck on the roads too. She had empathy for all those concerned parents cause she was one herself.
I know I'm probably forgetting some people. Every time I checked Facebook I saw new heroes offering their homes, food, and 4-wheel drive cars to people in need. It was amazing to see the community come together.
So while Snowmagedon 2014 was not the best situation - I hope people will remember more how many people because heroes to help those in need.
A story of faith, food and fellowship
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Valentine's Day
Some people love Valentine's Day, and then others hate it. I'm kind of neutral on the whole day. I love the day because it's an excuse to eat conversation hearts all day long until my stomach hurts. I've only officially had a "Valentine" twice in my life. The first ended up being one of my best guy friends, the other eventually became my dating anti-Christ. So I'm 50-50 when it comes to good "Valentines."
Take away all the flowers, balloons, Hallmark cards and candy (I'm eating conversation hearts as I write this), and Feb. 14 is just another day.
Not anymore for me!
Feb. 14 marks the one-year anniversary of when I was officially out of the hospital, and Humpty Dumpty was put back together again.
I had my final surgery to put my skull flab back on my head in early Feb., but I ended up staying about a week after the surgery instead of the usual two days. Anything that could have gone wrong did - I had a massive migraine after the surgery and sat in the dark in intense pain for two days, my white blood cell count got extremely low so everyone in my room had to done hospital mask. This are just a few of the bumps in the road to recovery. I also had to get cleared by 6 different doctors before I could leave. Not quite as bad as getting a bill passed through Congress, but pretty darn close.
But I had a goal - I would be home by Valentine's Day. The year before I spent part of Valentine's Day in the emergency room with a kidney stone. I didn't want a repeat. So I let my entire team of doctor's, nurses, family and friends know I wanted to be home by Valentine's Day.
The final doctor to sign off was my hematologist (blood doctor). On Feb. 13, he was still concerned about my blood levels and thought I should leave the hospital with a full tank. So he ordered 3 units of blood, which didn't start until late in the afternoon. It took over an hour for each unit and then I had to wait an hour after it was all done before I could leave. I was watching the clock tick and praying that blood drip faster.
Luckily my amazing nurses knew I was determined to be home by Valentine's Day, so my day nurse made sure all my discharge papers were ready to go. And as that last hour came to a close, my poor night nurse said I was clear to go. I say poor night nurse because she said she's only discharged a patient at night one other time. She was a little concern she might overlook something - but the day nurses had everything set and she knew she wasn't going to stop me from leaving.
It was 11:58 on Feb. 13 when I finally walked in the door at my parents house. It might have been close but goal was achieved.
Now Valentine's Day isn't about Prince Charming showing up with a dozen roses anymore. It's about embracing this second chance at life God has given me and enjoying every minute of it.
I was at Kroger tonight buying groceries, and I also picked up some Valentine's treats and a bottle of red wine. They're not for me to eat on Valentine's Day to drown my sorrows about being single on another Valentine's Day - it's to celebrate my one-year anniversary of a new life. I'm just thankful Hallmark pulls out all the stops to celebrate too!
Take away all the flowers, balloons, Hallmark cards and candy (I'm eating conversation hearts as I write this), and Feb. 14 is just another day.
Not anymore for me!
Feb. 14 marks the one-year anniversary of when I was officially out of the hospital, and Humpty Dumpty was put back together again.
I had my final surgery to put my skull flab back on my head in early Feb., but I ended up staying about a week after the surgery instead of the usual two days. Anything that could have gone wrong did - I had a massive migraine after the surgery and sat in the dark in intense pain for two days, my white blood cell count got extremely low so everyone in my room had to done hospital mask. This are just a few of the bumps in the road to recovery. I also had to get cleared by 6 different doctors before I could leave. Not quite as bad as getting a bill passed through Congress, but pretty darn close.
But I had a goal - I would be home by Valentine's Day. The year before I spent part of Valentine's Day in the emergency room with a kidney stone. I didn't want a repeat. So I let my entire team of doctor's, nurses, family and friends know I wanted to be home by Valentine's Day.
The final doctor to sign off was my hematologist (blood doctor). On Feb. 13, he was still concerned about my blood levels and thought I should leave the hospital with a full tank. So he ordered 3 units of blood, which didn't start until late in the afternoon. It took over an hour for each unit and then I had to wait an hour after it was all done before I could leave. I was watching the clock tick and praying that blood drip faster.
Luckily my amazing nurses knew I was determined to be home by Valentine's Day, so my day nurse made sure all my discharge papers were ready to go. And as that last hour came to a close, my poor night nurse said I was clear to go. I say poor night nurse because she said she's only discharged a patient at night one other time. She was a little concern she might overlook something - but the day nurses had everything set and she knew she wasn't going to stop me from leaving.
It was 11:58 on Feb. 13 when I finally walked in the door at my parents house. It might have been close but goal was achieved.
Now Valentine's Day isn't about Prince Charming showing up with a dozen roses anymore. It's about embracing this second chance at life God has given me and enjoying every minute of it.
I was at Kroger tonight buying groceries, and I also picked up some Valentine's treats and a bottle of red wine. They're not for me to eat on Valentine's Day to drown my sorrows about being single on another Valentine's Day - it's to celebrate my one-year anniversary of a new life. I'm just thankful Hallmark pulls out all the stops to celebrate too!
Saturday, February 9, 2013
A Dozen Red Roses
If you go into any grocery store this week, you'll find dozens of red roses all bundled up to give to your sweetheart. For some reason a dozen red roses are twice the price around Valentines. But a dozen red roses mean more to me than just a gift on the Hallmark holiday. The remind me of the women who instilled in me a love of flowers - my grandmother.
Frances Teel, or Mamaw as she's better known, has taught me that "fresh flowers are a necessity not a luxury." Nothing can bring more life to a room than fresh flowers. It's why we send flowers to say "I love you," "I'm sorry" and "Get well soon." As I write this, I have pink tulips (one of my favs) in a vase on my coffee table.
I stopped by the grocery store on Friday to pick up a dozen red roses to take down to the lake with me today. Every visit I have with Mamaw is special and a fresh set of roses brightens her eyes. See Mamaw has recently been put on hospice care. After almost 10 years of fighting several diseases including congestive heart failure, the doctors are saying her body just can't fight anymore. Trust me, her spirit is still there. But her body is failing her. They're keeping her comfortable, and every day she remains with us is a blessing.
It's hard to fully grasp the implications of hospice care. For me is just doesn't seem real. When I got on a plane in 2010 to move to Spain to finish college, I cried because I thought I would never see my Mamaw again. But she bounced back, as she's done several times since. But this time is different. And every time I drive up the bump-bump road away from their house on the lake, I wonder if that was the last time I would see her alive. Did I saw goodbye my last time? Was that my last hug?
But when I think like that, I turn back to red roses. They bring life, and they bring happiness. When I brought the red roses to Mamaw today, I first sat down to start chatting with her - taking in every moment I could. But I quickly got up as I was ordered by Mamaw to put those roses in a vase to put on her bedside table (see I told you her spirit was still fully intact). It was only after I cut the roses at an angle, like she taught me, and put them into a class vase, just like she taught, that I was able to sit down and chat. And while I can't stay down at the lake every minute, I know that sitting next to her are a dozen red roses that show her that I love her.
Just like she taught me before, "fresh flowers are a necessity, not a luxury."
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
I'm back
Recently a friend of mine asked me why I haven't updated my blog in awhile. I couldn't come up with an answer other than I just stopped - life is what happened. She said she enjoyed reading it, and encouraged me to get back in.
"A story of faith, food and fellowship," has morphed since I first blogged. I started the blog about two years ago when I was first diagnosed with Crohn's disease as a way to chronicle my dealing with the disease and trying new treatments. After I suffered a stroke in September 2011, my blog became part of my recovery as a way for me to keep people updated and put into words what many times I couldn't say about what I was going through.
I don't quite know where the blog is going now, but I know I want to keep writing. I enjoy writing, and I missed it. So here it goes.
That same friend who encouraged me to start blogging again recently lead a retreat for teenage girls at my church. I was one of the counselors, but I think I took away just as much as the teenage girls. During a Q&A session, she was asked how to be a successful writer. Her reply was read, and read a lot. So in honor of her advice, I figured I would restart my blog by making two reading suggestions from authors I personally know and trust.
The first book is "Perfectly Unique" by Annie Downs, who happens to be the person who advised me to blog again.
The book is written for teenage girls. But anyone who knows a teenage girl or has ever been a teenage girl should read this. Using humor and stories, Annie explains how all your body parts, from head to foot, connect you to God. Your mind plays an important role is your relationship with God. What you think directly influences how you act. Many of the things that keep us from having an intimate relationship with God start from lies dwelling in our mind. I've teased your with revealing one piece, you'll have to read the book to learn more. I promise you'll come away thinking differently, and you'll laugh along the way.
The second book is by another woman I admire and respect - "Rescuing Hope," by Susan Norris.
I will caution you that this book will ruin you - but in a good way. Susan tells the fictional story of "Hope," an all-American girl who gets sucked into the horrible world of sex trafficking. Unfortunately sex trafficking is a big business in America, taking the young lives of teenage girls. As someone who mentors teenage girls at church, it was hard reading this book and not seeing their faces in Hope. I've "yelled" at Susan twice about the book. The first was I thought it was a good idea to finish reading it while sitting a table at La Parilla. I speak Spanish and knew exactly what the waiters were saying about the crazy girl crying in the booth. The second was she has ruined the song "Restoration" for me. I can't sign that song without crying now. I challenge you to try reading the book and not finish it asking what can I do to fight against this horrible crime.
I hope you're all glad I'm back. Even if nobody follows my blog, I'm glad to be back doing something I love. Who knows what'll come next...
"A story of faith, food and fellowship," has morphed since I first blogged. I started the blog about two years ago when I was first diagnosed with Crohn's disease as a way to chronicle my dealing with the disease and trying new treatments. After I suffered a stroke in September 2011, my blog became part of my recovery as a way for me to keep people updated and put into words what many times I couldn't say about what I was going through.
I don't quite know where the blog is going now, but I know I want to keep writing. I enjoy writing, and I missed it. So here it goes.
That same friend who encouraged me to start blogging again recently lead a retreat for teenage girls at my church. I was one of the counselors, but I think I took away just as much as the teenage girls. During a Q&A session, she was asked how to be a successful writer. Her reply was read, and read a lot. So in honor of her advice, I figured I would restart my blog by making two reading suggestions from authors I personally know and trust.
The first book is "Perfectly Unique" by Annie Downs, who happens to be the person who advised me to blog again.
The book is written for teenage girls. But anyone who knows a teenage girl or has ever been a teenage girl should read this. Using humor and stories, Annie explains how all your body parts, from head to foot, connect you to God. Your mind plays an important role is your relationship with God. What you think directly influences how you act. Many of the things that keep us from having an intimate relationship with God start from lies dwelling in our mind. I've teased your with revealing one piece, you'll have to read the book to learn more. I promise you'll come away thinking differently, and you'll laugh along the way.
The second book is by another woman I admire and respect - "Rescuing Hope," by Susan Norris.
I will caution you that this book will ruin you - but in a good way. Susan tells the fictional story of "Hope," an all-American girl who gets sucked into the horrible world of sex trafficking. Unfortunately sex trafficking is a big business in America, taking the young lives of teenage girls. As someone who mentors teenage girls at church, it was hard reading this book and not seeing their faces in Hope. I've "yelled" at Susan twice about the book. The first was I thought it was a good idea to finish reading it while sitting a table at La Parilla. I speak Spanish and knew exactly what the waiters were saying about the crazy girl crying in the booth. The second was she has ruined the song "Restoration" for me. I can't sign that song without crying now. I challenge you to try reading the book and not finish it asking what can I do to fight against this horrible crime.
I hope you're all glad I'm back. Even if nobody follows my blog, I'm glad to be back doing something I love. Who knows what'll come next...
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Today was a walk in the park - not so a year ago
I've been thinking about how I wanted to write this blog for several weeks. Today, as I drove from UW campaign rally to campaign rally, my mind would drift to how I wanted to write today's blog. A lot went through my mind, and some tears were shed, both happy and sad. I'm writing this after getting home from a walk in the nearby park with my dog. Amazing how a walk in the rain will help break writers block.
The reason I wanted to write something today is a year ago, Sept. 18, 2011, I was laying in an operating room at Kennestone Hospital and amazing doctors were fighting to save my life. The basic story was one of the veins in my brain had a clot which caused my brain to swell. To save my life, doctors removed part of my skull and placed it in my stomach for about 6 months while the swelling went down. This surgery was a week after I suffered from a stroke at the age of 26.
How do you put into words what has transpired a year ago today?
Shock - Who has a stoke at age 26? Who walks around with a part of their skull in their stomach for six months? Who goes from being fairly healthy to fighting for her life?
Pain - Surgery, tests, physical therapy, headaches, medicines...
Confusion - Why did this happen? What does my future look like? Will I ever have my life back?
Depression - Why did this happen to me? Why do I have to basically rebuild/relearn my life?
Instead of dwelling on these thoughts, I'd rather talk about the positives that have happened in my life since those brave doctors made the choices they needed to on Sept. 18, 2011.
-Tripp: I'll start with my 1-year old nephew Tripp (or as I love to call him Bud-Bud) Tripp is basically the best medicine a person could ever get. Running around with this lil guy is the best thing in the world. I've been able to watch him go from a small baby who loved to cuddle with me while I recovered, to a extremely energetic lil boy who loves to play chase. And he is the sweetest thing - nothing bets him seating in my lap as we read "If I were a dinosaur" for the 28+ time that day
-Love: I have felt such an outpouring of love this last year that sometimes I cry tears of joy just thinking about how much love has been poured out on me and my family. From those who brought food for my family, to those who sat with me while I vented or cried, I can't even begin to list all the examples of love I've felt this past year
-Prayer: I've always believed in the power of prayer, but I've been use to asking my close friends/families to pray for a certain issues. Never in my life have I had entire churches, people across the country and people in other countries interceding on my behalf to God asking for my healing. I still meet what some would call strangers, I call angels, who tell me they prayed and are still praying for my full healing.
-Trust: Through this experience, I went from a very independent lady to at times, totally dependent on family, friends and doctors. I've learned that I can't do everything on my own. Sometimes you need someone to hold your hand, push you to get out of the bed and do your physical therapy (Elise!) and make the best medical decisions that are needed.
-Laughter: There has been a lot of tears this last year, but there has been a lot of laughter - from dancing the "Interlude" late at night at summer camp with my 11th grade girls, to going on a girls trip with my mom and sister-in-law to Charleston, SC.
Beauty - One of the first things I remember after surgery is my dad telling me about how half my head had been shaved for the surgery. I lightly felt down the right side of my hair and felt my long curls, and then down my left side to find short, shaved hair. As I'm watching my hair grow out now, I'm enjoying the simplicity of it. While I cried at first, I know enjoy it.
Family - I have always loved my family, now I LOVE my family. I don't know how many sleepless nights my parents went through the last year, the hours my brothers spent in my hospital room or the cards, phone calls and texts my family sent to encourage me the last year, but I value every ounce of it. I wouldn't replace my family for anything.
Faith - To say this last year has been easy would be a lie. To say my faith wasn't tested would too. I never lost my faith in God - but I sure questioned Him, his plan for me and why this all happened. I've mostly stopped asking "why?," although if I'm honest, I'd admit that there are times when its dark and I'm lying in bed I still wonder "why?" My new question to God is "What?" What is God's plan for me in all of this? What does God want to me to learn from what? What does God have next for me? I've found it's a relief for ask "What?" instead of "Why?" Many times the "Why?" will never be answered, but the "What?"will make my faith grow.
Each week a new piece of my life returns - Isabelle coming back to Marietta after living with my brother in Birmingham for a few months, my skull being put back into place, fewer and fewer pills taken each day, moving back into my own home, returning to the youth group at Riverstone to mentor to my 11th grade girls, being a counselor at Summer Camp, going back to work full time (and now taking on six of United Way's top accounts), going to watch Auburn football at Jordan-Hare stadium - just to name a few.
I will always have the scars to remind me what happened a year ago. But as I've said in an earlier blog, my scars are pictures to tell my story. While I wished this never happened to me, I can find comfort in all the good that has come out of this.
The only thing I have left to say is THANK YOU to everyone who has played a part in my recovery. You are all my guardian angels!!!!
The reason I wanted to write something today is a year ago, Sept. 18, 2011, I was laying in an operating room at Kennestone Hospital and amazing doctors were fighting to save my life. The basic story was one of the veins in my brain had a clot which caused my brain to swell. To save my life, doctors removed part of my skull and placed it in my stomach for about 6 months while the swelling went down. This surgery was a week after I suffered from a stroke at the age of 26.
How do you put into words what has transpired a year ago today?
Shock - Who has a stoke at age 26? Who walks around with a part of their skull in their stomach for six months? Who goes from being fairly healthy to fighting for her life?
Pain - Surgery, tests, physical therapy, headaches, medicines...
Confusion - Why did this happen? What does my future look like? Will I ever have my life back?
Depression - Why did this happen to me? Why do I have to basically rebuild/relearn my life?
Instead of dwelling on these thoughts, I'd rather talk about the positives that have happened in my life since those brave doctors made the choices they needed to on Sept. 18, 2011.
-Tripp: I'll start with my 1-year old nephew Tripp (or as I love to call him Bud-Bud) Tripp is basically the best medicine a person could ever get. Running around with this lil guy is the best thing in the world. I've been able to watch him go from a small baby who loved to cuddle with me while I recovered, to a extremely energetic lil boy who loves to play chase. And he is the sweetest thing - nothing bets him seating in my lap as we read "If I were a dinosaur" for the 28+ time that day
-Love: I have felt such an outpouring of love this last year that sometimes I cry tears of joy just thinking about how much love has been poured out on me and my family. From those who brought food for my family, to those who sat with me while I vented or cried, I can't even begin to list all the examples of love I've felt this past year
-Prayer: I've always believed in the power of prayer, but I've been use to asking my close friends/families to pray for a certain issues. Never in my life have I had entire churches, people across the country and people in other countries interceding on my behalf to God asking for my healing. I still meet what some would call strangers, I call angels, who tell me they prayed and are still praying for my full healing.
-Trust: Through this experience, I went from a very independent lady to at times, totally dependent on family, friends and doctors. I've learned that I can't do everything on my own. Sometimes you need someone to hold your hand, push you to get out of the bed and do your physical therapy (Elise!) and make the best medical decisions that are needed.
-Laughter: There has been a lot of tears this last year, but there has been a lot of laughter - from dancing the "Interlude" late at night at summer camp with my 11th grade girls, to going on a girls trip with my mom and sister-in-law to Charleston, SC.
Beauty - One of the first things I remember after surgery is my dad telling me about how half my head had been shaved for the surgery. I lightly felt down the right side of my hair and felt my long curls, and then down my left side to find short, shaved hair. As I'm watching my hair grow out now, I'm enjoying the simplicity of it. While I cried at first, I know enjoy it.
Family - I have always loved my family, now I LOVE my family. I don't know how many sleepless nights my parents went through the last year, the hours my brothers spent in my hospital room or the cards, phone calls and texts my family sent to encourage me the last year, but I value every ounce of it. I wouldn't replace my family for anything.
Faith - To say this last year has been easy would be a lie. To say my faith wasn't tested would too. I never lost my faith in God - but I sure questioned Him, his plan for me and why this all happened. I've mostly stopped asking "why?," although if I'm honest, I'd admit that there are times when its dark and I'm lying in bed I still wonder "why?" My new question to God is "What?" What is God's plan for me in all of this? What does God want to me to learn from what? What does God have next for me? I've found it's a relief for ask "What?" instead of "Why?" Many times the "Why?" will never be answered, but the "What?"will make my faith grow.
Each week a new piece of my life returns - Isabelle coming back to Marietta after living with my brother in Birmingham for a few months, my skull being put back into place, fewer and fewer pills taken each day, moving back into my own home, returning to the youth group at Riverstone to mentor to my 11th grade girls, being a counselor at Summer Camp, going back to work full time (and now taking on six of United Way's top accounts), going to watch Auburn football at Jordan-Hare stadium - just to name a few.
I will always have the scars to remind me what happened a year ago. But as I've said in an earlier blog, my scars are pictures to tell my story. While I wished this never happened to me, I can find comfort in all the good that has come out of this.
The only thing I have left to say is THANK YOU to everyone who has played a part in my recovery. You are all my guardian angels!!!!
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Scars are visible reminders of your testimony
Awhile ago I wrote a blog about the phrase, "chicks dig scars," and about how I disagreed with that idea when it came to scares on girls. But I've been inspired recently to revisit my thoughts on scars the last two days.
The first inspiration came from one of the shooting victims in Colorado. As a form reporter, I've been watching all the coverage since the horrible incident occurred. On Saturday, they were interviewing one of the survivors in the hospital. The guys was commenting about how he may have been hit by several bullets, his scars will be forever reminders of how he survived and has a life to live.
My second inspirations came from my dad. Today as we were getting ready to head to the golf course, he asked me where I got the scar on my right shoulder. Surprised that he forgot, I reminded him that his demon beach tent attacked me when we were at the beach in April and that scar is still there.
So here are my new thoughts on scars - no, I still don't think chicks dig scars on their own bodies, but every scar tells a story of survival. They are the pictures you have to tell your testimony. While they can be reminders of extreme pain that you went through, they also are reminders that you survived and are now thriving.
Here are some of my scar stories (as I wrote this list I noticed that all of my scars are on my left side - strange!)
- I have a scar on my forehead near my left eye from when I had chicken poxs as a toddler. I must have really scratched that area.
-I have a line in the middle of my left arm when I burned myself on the oven trying to pull out some pizza when I was in middle school. It's hard to see this one in the summer as I tan.
-I've told you about the scar on my back from the psycho beach tent
-I have two small scars on my face (on in between my eyes and one just to the side of my left eye) that happened when I fainted in the bathroom right before I had my second surgery to put my skull back together. Those two are easily covered up with make-up
And then there are the two scars that started the original blog and I think tell the most dramatic story of my life
The first is the U-shaped scar on my left side of my head. This is where, on the early morning of Sept. 18, 2011, a team of amazing surgeon performed brain surgery to release pressure on my swelling brain to save my life.
Luckily, I have very think and fast-growing hair so the scar isn't noticeable. It took me while to even find an old picture where you can see it. You can kind of see it in the below picture that was taken probably a week after I got home from the hospital. I'm napping with my sweet little nephew, Tripp - who will turn one in August!!!
And then there is the "Frankenstein" looking scar on the left side of the stomach. This is where, in an amazing testimony to today's technology, those doctors stored the piece of skull flab they removed to help relieve pressure on my brain. Yes, I walked around with a portion of my skull in my stomach for about six months. No photos of this one, but I did strut around the beach in a bikini in April showing off my scar with pride!
Amazingly, both of those scars were reopened in February to put my skull piece back to where it belongs after my brain had healed. So in a way they are two-for-one scars.
I was angry when I wrote the first blog because I thought these scars were ugly. But now I have other ideas. These two scars remind me of those brilliant surgeons, and how through it all, they were always all at the right place at the right time to save my life (a couple of times). They remind me of the hundreds of people who were interceding on my behalf, calling out to God and praying without ceasing for his healing hand to come to my rescue. It reminds me of the crazy journey I went on the last year, and in some ways are still on. And they remind me that I have a testimony to share - a testimony of healing, a testimony of faith, a testimony of love, a testimony of overcoming fear, a testimony of the power of prayer, and testimony of how my body failed me many times the last year, but God never did.
So while I wish I didn't have all the scars on my body - I do realize the purpose they play and the stories they tell.
The first inspiration came from one of the shooting victims in Colorado. As a form reporter, I've been watching all the coverage since the horrible incident occurred. On Saturday, they were interviewing one of the survivors in the hospital. The guys was commenting about how he may have been hit by several bullets, his scars will be forever reminders of how he survived and has a life to live.
My second inspirations came from my dad. Today as we were getting ready to head to the golf course, he asked me where I got the scar on my right shoulder. Surprised that he forgot, I reminded him that his demon beach tent attacked me when we were at the beach in April and that scar is still there.
So here are my new thoughts on scars - no, I still don't think chicks dig scars on their own bodies, but every scar tells a story of survival. They are the pictures you have to tell your testimony. While they can be reminders of extreme pain that you went through, they also are reminders that you survived and are now thriving.
Here are some of my scar stories (as I wrote this list I noticed that all of my scars are on my left side - strange!)
- I have a scar on my forehead near my left eye from when I had chicken poxs as a toddler. I must have really scratched that area.
-I have a line in the middle of my left arm when I burned myself on the oven trying to pull out some pizza when I was in middle school. It's hard to see this one in the summer as I tan.
-I've told you about the scar on my back from the psycho beach tent
-I have two small scars on my face (on in between my eyes and one just to the side of my left eye) that happened when I fainted in the bathroom right before I had my second surgery to put my skull back together. Those two are easily covered up with make-up
And then there are the two scars that started the original blog and I think tell the most dramatic story of my life
The first is the U-shaped scar on my left side of my head. This is where, on the early morning of Sept. 18, 2011, a team of amazing surgeon performed brain surgery to release pressure on my swelling brain to save my life.
Luckily, I have very think and fast-growing hair so the scar isn't noticeable. It took me while to even find an old picture where you can see it. You can kind of see it in the below picture that was taken probably a week after I got home from the hospital. I'm napping with my sweet little nephew, Tripp - who will turn one in August!!!
And then there is the "Frankenstein" looking scar on the left side of the stomach. This is where, in an amazing testimony to today's technology, those doctors stored the piece of skull flab they removed to help relieve pressure on my brain. Yes, I walked around with a portion of my skull in my stomach for about six months. No photos of this one, but I did strut around the beach in a bikini in April showing off my scar with pride!
Amazingly, both of those scars were reopened in February to put my skull piece back to where it belongs after my brain had healed. So in a way they are two-for-one scars.
I was angry when I wrote the first blog because I thought these scars were ugly. But now I have other ideas. These two scars remind me of those brilliant surgeons, and how through it all, they were always all at the right place at the right time to save my life (a couple of times). They remind me of the hundreds of people who were interceding on my behalf, calling out to God and praying without ceasing for his healing hand to come to my rescue. It reminds me of the crazy journey I went on the last year, and in some ways are still on. And they remind me that I have a testimony to share - a testimony of healing, a testimony of faith, a testimony of love, a testimony of overcoming fear, a testimony of the power of prayer, and testimony of how my body failed me many times the last year, but God never did.
So while I wish I didn't have all the scars on my body - I do realize the purpose they play and the stories they tell.
Friday, July 6, 2012
From Surviving to Thriving - Summer Camp 2012
I just got home from spending the past week in Covington, GA being a counselor for my church's youth camp. I have a sentimental attachment to this camp for so many reasons that I wont' go into in this blog - the most important reason being as a rising 7th grade girl I walked down the aisle of Mobley Hall to the altar to ask Jesus to be my Lord and Savior. I grew up going to this camp, and have been a counselor since graduating high school. For the last 5 years, I've been with the same group of girls who are now rising 11th grades.
What few people know though is this year I had a lot of anxiety and fear about returning to camp. It's hard to think I was in that place - the speaker, Mark Fritchman, was my high school youth pastor; his wife was my small group leader; I love spending time with my girls; we had a great theme of "Hunger Games" planned for our cabin. On the outside I was super excited about camp this year - but internally I was wrestling with should I really go to camp this year.
If you've been reading this blog then you know my story - how I have battled with major health issues the last two years. Shortly after Summer Camp 2010 I got sick - with the "great" food at camp, we thought I was just reacting to the food. What we didn't know until I was admitted into the hospital for over a week in August 2010 was that I have Crohn's disease. My doctor said I the Crohn's disease was likely dormant for years, but the food and stress of camp likely triggered my first major Crohn's flare up.
Prior to Summer Camp 2011, I was determined to not deal with the same food issues. So I packed up a lot of food that I could survive off of if the food in the cafeteria wasn't a good choice. I will tell you that I remember having a great time at camp - the speaker was awesome, God did great things in the lives of my girls, we all had lots of fun. But little did I know the biggest test of my life was right around the corner. For those that don't know - I went into the hospital for a Crohn's flare up, then after being home for less than 24 hours, my parents took me back to the hospital on Sept. 18 and it was determined I had a stroke. And then I went from improving to needing emergency brain surgery to remove part of my skull on Sept. 25.
The last 10 months I've been dealing with recovering from stroke (which included putting the skull piece back on my head in Feb.) and also trying to get the Crohn's disease under control. As you saw from my last blog I have finally agreed to my doctor's recommendation to go on Remicade - I have my third infusion on Monday. And while I've been dealing with horrible physical roller coaster, emotionally and spiritually I have been through it all.
So while I was excited on the outside - I was scared on the inside. I was terrified that something health related would come up at camp - Crohn's flare up, major headaches/migraines, total exhaustion. But I can tell you that I was great health all week!!!!! I did a great job of listening to my body - so when I needed to rest I did, and when I felt like to could run with my girls (like defending our flag from all those rising-college men in the sock war)
I think part of this is that I changed my thoughts on my fear - with the help of Pastor Terry. I talked with him before camp and knew that the thoughts I was thinking were not from the Lord, but were meant to hinder me from doing what I was called to do - minister my 11th grade ladies.
My passion has been working with these girls for the past 5 years. Mark talked a lot about having a passion and purpose this week. "If you'll give God your passion, he's going to give you his pace," and "When your passion meets your ability, and when your experience meets an opportunity; you'll have impact and find your purpose." While camp is suppose to be for the students - I did get some great encouragement and confirmation that I was suppose to be at camp - no doubt.
The last 10 months, or really two years, I've been trying to survive all the health issues that have been thrown at me. Now, I'm determined to do more than just that - I'm going to THRIVE!!!!
Here is a list of a few highlights from camp:
-11th grade guys and girls winning the Sock War and Overall cabin competition
-Dancing the "Interlude" at 1 a.m. with my girls in the cabin
-Getting to know tons of new campers and counselors
-Attending the "sunbathing" leisure activity for 4 days straight
-Heckling the "Aqua Dancing" instructor while laying out at "sunbathing"
-Spending the week with my youth pastor and small group leader
-Decorating the camp with a Hunger Games theme
-Hearing my co-leader take the Hunger Games and use it to minister to our girls ("I volunteer as tribute," friendship, "Girl on Fire")
-Using my mistakes in dating to encourage and advise my girls to make better choices
-Praying for my girls that they would be filled with the Holy Spirit
-Worshipping God without fear
-Going from surviving to thriving
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