After reading today's paper online, the letters to editor and ruminating on our latest Church Business meeting, I decided it was time to write some thoughts on church music.
Why do people get so excited about Church music when someone inserts a change? Why do people get so excited when a hymn shows up in the bulletin they aren't familiar with? Why do people get so excited when we sing a chorus rather than a hymn? I wish I knew.
Church music and the changes thereof have caused uneasiness down through the ages. Why? Well, the "c" word comes to mind. CHANGE! People hate change. But some hate it more than others. At my age, I'm not a big fan of change, but dang, every day something changes, so you have to roll with it. Give some room.
The early church, undoubtedly sang the Psalms. (The songs...) Somebody, at some point, came up with a "new" song. I expect when they sang it for their fellowship, some body raised the roof about their "evil music". I mentioned to someone a while back that I'd like to see us use a Psalter sometime for scripture memorization. That didn't fly. I keep wondering why. I'm not a music person, meaning I cannot "read" music or play an instrument. I feel sort of "unBrethren" because of failure, but I get by. Still, I love music. I love the sound of it, I love the variety of it, I love the 'feel' of it. I love to sing. Sometimes it sounds pretty bad, but I love to do it all the same. And I am not a music snob. I love ALL kinds of music ~ classic, traditional, rock, country, contemporary, you name it. When I have the opportunity to hear something "new" I enjoy it. So, I get very disturbed when people complain about "new" music! No, I get more than disturbed, it drives me nuts. Seriously, can't you find something BETTER to complain about?
Music in church has divided congregations more than it should. Fanny Crosby is a favorite hymn writer of many. Yet, her songs were set to the music of "familiar tunes" of the day. Familiar... as in... secular tunes. William Booth ? The same. How about my favorite, "Be Thou My Vision"? Not a sacred tune, I can tell you. Many folks complained about these artists music ~ not the words, mind you, but the tunes. "Devils music", they said. Well, William Booth answered with a question, "Why should the Devil have all the good tunes?" These same songs are some of the famous songs now that we all tout. Enter in Casting Crowns, Mercy Me, dare I say, News Boys. Songs, choruses... They have to have a SPECIAL TIME set aside to sing. Fifteen minutes before "church" starts we can sing those, but not during service. "We" (whomever 'we' are) don't like those songs, but we'll 'allow' you to have them before we get there.
Rebel that I am, I state, here, for the world to read, SICK of being told this garbage. God is interested in the words and heart of the song. I wonder what King David would think about our silly quarrels over music? Piano and organ only? He didn't have those, so used whatever he could find... lyre, drum, pipes... Let us sing on, play on, enjoy the words sung to the God of the Ages!!! At every service, at any time. Get over yourselves. Stretch yourselves. See what God can do!!!
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
Random Thoughts on Life in the 21st Century
A few days ago a friend sent me an email about being born before the 1970's. The email rambled on about children riding bicycles without helmets and all sorts of random things that were about my life as a child and, actually, some of my children's lives as well. It bestowed some fond memories, but also helped me "see", to some small degree, how paranoid we have become as a nation. In the early 70's I could still buy paregoric at the druggest. Camphorated tincture of opium!!! Yep, I could sign for one ounce at a time for use as an analgesic. Nothing worked better than a couple of drops of paregoric in a glass of water for cramps. Never thought of abusing it, though I'm sure some did. But, there were regulations for that! Now the regulation is, you can't buy it at all.
I also could sign for Robitussin Cough Syrup with Codeine. Yep, it was regulated too. I didn't abuse that either. Now I have to have a prescription. For my own good, of course.
A few years ago I could go in and buy large boxes of Sudafed. Thanks to the criminal element of society I now cannot buy it for the family, but rather only for myself... one 30 day supply per month per person. If this were not bad enough... maybe I can even understand it a little bit... we've certainly gone off the road into the ditch at this point.
A couple of weeks ago I went to buy a 3 pack of compressed air for a project to keep my cat off the furniture in the living room. I am 55 years old and had to show my I.D. for that single can of compressed air (no more 3 packs... illegal). COMPRESSED AIR!!! I.D.!!!
Today I read two articles "in the news". Seems the "underworld element" has produced some "bath salts" that contain some kind of super addictive, nasty chemical that is causing some addicted people to behave insanely by snorting, injecting or otherwise using the "bath salts". So, our government in its great wisdom are on the bandwagon to BAN THEIR SALES. Okay, so they are not "bath salts", so ban them, but DON'T CALL THEM BATH SALTS!!! They aren't. Bath salts contain epsom salts, fragrance and softeners. Seriously, don't tell me my Bath Salts are ILLEGAL TO OWN! Ban the chemical if you want to, if you absolutely must, (for my own good, of course), but QUIT CALLING IT some innocuous name.
Next article. You and I have high cholesterol. Big Brother is VERY concerned about my health and yours. So, consideration is being made to put Statins in your McD's burger. And all those depressed children? How about a psychotropic in their Happy Meal? I mean, why not? All these kids injecting Bath Salts and sniffing Compressed Air. They must be horribly depressed.
"1984" is no longer a required "Classic" in high school. Neither is "Brave New World", which to read is very scary in today's environment. Aldous Huxley was a visionary, in my opinion. George Orwell wasn't far behind.
We have become so accustomed to our governments and other authorities "Nanny-ing" us that we fail to think for ourselves. Take statins for instance. I argued for several years with my doctor over the issue of whether or not to take them. I am taking them now, after trying numerous other ways, but the oversight is negligible.
My cholesterol count dropped 70 points in 3 months on a statin. I keep wondering what the next six months will show. I haven't been checked since and am not "due" for several more months. That makes me nervous! In the beginning, when they were first common-ized (new word), blood tests were required every 3 months to check one's liver enzymes. Now it's every 6 to 12. A little scary for me, so I supplement with Milk Thistle. Most people I know who take them have leg cramps regularly. Why haven't their doctors told them that statins destroy CO Q10 in their muscles? Only the "self-informed" I know take that enzyme along with their statin, yet EVERY ARTICLE I've ever read recommends it. But, Nanny "forgot" to tell you, so, well, Doctor's know best. Right? Don't check it out for yourself. Heck, don't even call the doc and tell him (even though it says to on all the literature they gave you that you didn't read).
Lest one thinks that this is my "old age" showing. I assure you it is not. Today is my oldest son's 37th birthday. When he was a baby I took him to Dr. Way in Winchester. Old Dr. Way looked at him and started writing a prescription without saying anything to me at all. Now I know I was only 19, maybe 20, but still, Justin was mine. So, I said, "what's that for" and he said, "honey, don't you worry about it. Just take it to the pharmacy and follow the instructions. I'm the doctor." I looked at old Dr. Way and as he handed me the script, I tore it up in his face and said, "I don't give my child anything that I don't know what it's for." Period. The end. I took him to Dr. Jones the next day, got the same med for an ear infection. He explained everything. Was the best pediatrician I ever had and I was broken hearted when he moved to Texas. He served my children well. So, see, I've always been careful and well read.
We have become a nation of lemmings. We do not think for ourselves and if we do, we are labeled as "rebels". We not only want to be taken care of, we demand it of our authorities, and, of course, they love the control.
From opium to bath salts and all things in between ~ do we really need someone to outlaw a chemical that destroy us? Isn't information enough? Shouldn't we hold some responsibility?
Everyone knows cigarettes kill. EVERYONE! Yet, we all know nurses that smoke. NURSES!! It's legal, right? I watch people who have no jobs, no visible means of support, yet they smoke a pack of cigarettes a DAY to the tune of about $5. That's $150. a MONTH!!! I know other people that talk about their budgets all the time. "If I just had an extra $100 a month." Well, you would if you didn't smoke it away. Wanna outlaw something? How 'bout that?
Having been a former smoker, I can smell it when I walk into a room that has housed smokers. Not someone smoking, but smokERS. But, the Nanny government makes money from the tax on those cancer sticks. So, they are legal.
You know what? TAX, TAX, TAX.... the old adage of "sin tax" holds true. If someone wants to make meth with their sudafed, then, by God, TAX them! Any more than 90 days worth, slap a huge tax on them. They are making an illegal drug with no medicinal value... arrest them, charge them. But do NOT punish me. If I want to grow marijuana in my back yard for my use ~ my business. If I want to grow it and sell it, then TAX the crap out of me!!! TAX, TAX, TAX.
So, this is my rant for today. From paregoric to bath salts. From statins by prescription to statins in your burger. And they ask me why I'm a Libertarian? Seriously? You gotta be kidding. A lemming, I ain't.
Rambling Rose... Hey it's Monday :)
I also could sign for Robitussin Cough Syrup with Codeine. Yep, it was regulated too. I didn't abuse that either. Now I have to have a prescription. For my own good, of course.
A few years ago I could go in and buy large boxes of Sudafed. Thanks to the criminal element of society I now cannot buy it for the family, but rather only for myself... one 30 day supply per month per person. If this were not bad enough... maybe I can even understand it a little bit... we've certainly gone off the road into the ditch at this point.
A couple of weeks ago I went to buy a 3 pack of compressed air for a project to keep my cat off the furniture in the living room. I am 55 years old and had to show my I.D. for that single can of compressed air (no more 3 packs... illegal). COMPRESSED AIR!!! I.D.!!!
Today I read two articles "in the news". Seems the "underworld element" has produced some "bath salts" that contain some kind of super addictive, nasty chemical that is causing some addicted people to behave insanely by snorting, injecting or otherwise using the "bath salts". So, our government in its great wisdom are on the bandwagon to BAN THEIR SALES. Okay, so they are not "bath salts", so ban them, but DON'T CALL THEM BATH SALTS!!! They aren't. Bath salts contain epsom salts, fragrance and softeners. Seriously, don't tell me my Bath Salts are ILLEGAL TO OWN! Ban the chemical if you want to, if you absolutely must, (for my own good, of course), but QUIT CALLING IT some innocuous name.
Next article. You and I have high cholesterol. Big Brother is VERY concerned about my health and yours. So, consideration is being made to put Statins in your McD's burger. And all those depressed children? How about a psychotropic in their Happy Meal? I mean, why not? All these kids injecting Bath Salts and sniffing Compressed Air. They must be horribly depressed.
"1984" is no longer a required "Classic" in high school. Neither is "Brave New World", which to read is very scary in today's environment. Aldous Huxley was a visionary, in my opinion. George Orwell wasn't far behind.
We have become so accustomed to our governments and other authorities "Nanny-ing" us that we fail to think for ourselves. Take statins for instance. I argued for several years with my doctor over the issue of whether or not to take them. I am taking them now, after trying numerous other ways, but the oversight is negligible.
My cholesterol count dropped 70 points in 3 months on a statin. I keep wondering what the next six months will show. I haven't been checked since and am not "due" for several more months. That makes me nervous! In the beginning, when they were first common-ized (new word), blood tests were required every 3 months to check one's liver enzymes. Now it's every 6 to 12. A little scary for me, so I supplement with Milk Thistle. Most people I know who take them have leg cramps regularly. Why haven't their doctors told them that statins destroy CO Q10 in their muscles? Only the "self-informed" I know take that enzyme along with their statin, yet EVERY ARTICLE I've ever read recommends it. But, Nanny "forgot" to tell you, so, well, Doctor's know best. Right? Don't check it out for yourself. Heck, don't even call the doc and tell him (even though it says to on all the literature they gave you that you didn't read).
Lest one thinks that this is my "old age" showing. I assure you it is not. Today is my oldest son's 37th birthday. When he was a baby I took him to Dr. Way in Winchester. Old Dr. Way looked at him and started writing a prescription without saying anything to me at all. Now I know I was only 19, maybe 20, but still, Justin was mine. So, I said, "what's that for" and he said, "honey, don't you worry about it. Just take it to the pharmacy and follow the instructions. I'm the doctor." I looked at old Dr. Way and as he handed me the script, I tore it up in his face and said, "I don't give my child anything that I don't know what it's for." Period. The end. I took him to Dr. Jones the next day, got the same med for an ear infection. He explained everything. Was the best pediatrician I ever had and I was broken hearted when he moved to Texas. He served my children well. So, see, I've always been careful and well read.
We have become a nation of lemmings. We do not think for ourselves and if we do, we are labeled as "rebels". We not only want to be taken care of, we demand it of our authorities, and, of course, they love the control.
From opium to bath salts and all things in between ~ do we really need someone to outlaw a chemical that destroy us? Isn't information enough? Shouldn't we hold some responsibility?
Everyone knows cigarettes kill. EVERYONE! Yet, we all know nurses that smoke. NURSES!! It's legal, right? I watch people who have no jobs, no visible means of support, yet they smoke a pack of cigarettes a DAY to the tune of about $5. That's $150. a MONTH!!! I know other people that talk about their budgets all the time. "If I just had an extra $100 a month." Well, you would if you didn't smoke it away. Wanna outlaw something? How 'bout that?
Having been a former smoker, I can smell it when I walk into a room that has housed smokers. Not someone smoking, but smokERS. But, the Nanny government makes money from the tax on those cancer sticks. So, they are legal.
You know what? TAX, TAX, TAX.... the old adage of "sin tax" holds true. If someone wants to make meth with their sudafed, then, by God, TAX them! Any more than 90 days worth, slap a huge tax on them. They are making an illegal drug with no medicinal value... arrest them, charge them. But do NOT punish me. If I want to grow marijuana in my back yard for my use ~ my business. If I want to grow it and sell it, then TAX the crap out of me!!! TAX, TAX, TAX.
So, this is my rant for today. From paregoric to bath salts. From statins by prescription to statins in your burger. And they ask me why I'm a Libertarian? Seriously? You gotta be kidding. A lemming, I ain't.
Rambling Rose... Hey it's Monday :)
Friday, January 7, 2011
A Book Review ~ The Liturgical Year
As an anabaptist/pietist sort of woman, I've had little exposure to the liturgical year, so the opportunity to read this book really struck a cord. The "exact" title is The Liturgical Year, the spiraling adventure of the spiritual life, written by Joan Chittister. What a great little book! Joan writes in a very easy to read way to explain how we need to look at ancient practices from time to time to live today. The liturgical year has great importance to the Christian. It satisfies the hunger that each Christian feels about coming closer to Jesus on a daily basis. From Advent to Lent and all things before and after, each has a connection to the life of our Jesus and to us in our spiritual lives. Too bad the protestant and anabaptists missed using that Christian year more fully. This books goes through the Christian year with a look at each avenue providing a depth that isn't often there for us. If there was anything missing, I would say it's a genuine perpetual calendar that would help us who are unfamiliar to become even more liturgical in our lives. I really enjoyed this read and it gave me a push to learn even more about the Liturgical year in the Christian's life.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Book Review ~ Jungle Warfare
Just finished reading Jungle Warfare, A Basic Field Manual for Christians in Sales by Christopher A. Cunningham. Don't you love the title? I do!
I'm not in "sales" per se, but every Christian needs to realize that when we are serving Christ we are in a War. This books spends 22 days developing a "battle plan" of action for the Christian salesman/woman. This book takes a 1941 Jungle Warfare manual and portrayed an excellent plan of action for the Christian. As an example, on Day 19 we are told to "Pray for Your Enemy". The basic field manual lists what to do when you meet an enemy and then goes on to list the scriptures that tell us to love our enemies and pray for them. I won't disclose how to pray for them. That's for you to read the book. This book serves as a fine pocket manual on how to carry ones self in the dog eat dog world of sales and how to win the battles that vocation (and most any other) throws at us. It's size makes it perfect for the brief-case or purse. I highly recommend it.
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher through the BookSneeze.com book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”
I'm not in "sales" per se, but every Christian needs to realize that when we are serving Christ we are in a War. This books spends 22 days developing a "battle plan" of action for the Christian salesman/woman. This book takes a 1941 Jungle Warfare manual and portrayed an excellent plan of action for the Christian. As an example, on Day 19 we are told to "Pray for Your Enemy". The basic field manual lists what to do when you meet an enemy and then goes on to list the scriptures that tell us to love our enemies and pray for them. I won't disclose how to pray for them. That's for you to read the book. This book serves as a fine pocket manual on how to carry ones self in the dog eat dog world of sales and how to win the battles that vocation (and most any other) throws at us. It's size makes it perfect for the brief-case or purse. I highly recommend it.
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher through the BookSneeze.com
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Through a Glass Darkly
I Corinthians 13:12 ~ For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.
Like traveling in a rain storm being drenched on the windshield. It's like looking through a carnival glass. You can "see", but the images are distorted and the landscape is as odd as to be indiscernable from the road.
Such is life at this moment.
My mother in law has been the strongest women in my life. Mom stands very tall even in comparison to my own mother who told the doctor, "I will go home." And strutted in the door to die quietly in her bed within 48 hours.
Around six year ago Mom had a hip replacement. In the midst of her rehab she developed MRSA and ended up in a nursing home receiving IV antibiotics for a period of time. But, she came through well. Went home and spent the next few years in her chair with all but a scepter ruling her family from that chair. She drove to church and to the Dollar store and hid the times she fell or hit the garage door or otherwise did things she knew we would find troublesome. She complained when we didn't visit or call and often complained when we did. Her bitterness at her widowhood grew and her frugal living grew also.
Four years later during a visit with my son she revealed a horrific accident that resulted in some serious damage to her leg. In her desire to "hide the evidence" she developed cellulitis. Serious stuff when it comes to connective tissue and nerves. The leg was painful from there forward. Stubbornness has a price.
In May of this year (two years since that accident) she decided that the pain in her knee was worse than the pain in her hip, so she consented to another knee replacement. While we were not comfortable with the surgery, as she seemed frail to us, we knew it was her decision to make, along with the surgeon. We also had her 99% convinced in light of falls and whatnot that she should move in with us at the completion of this surgery.
Her surgery done and two pints of blood later, we had the good fortune of her going to Bridgewater Retirement Community for her rehab. She worked hard, complained much and was released to us in 21 days. In our "new" home, bought just for her, with TV and phone, she went through 3 more weeks of in house therapy. Her attitude became more and more combative as time went on. At the time we thought she could settle in here she announced she was going home. No consideration for the amount of money we had spent, were spending and were locked into spending she insisted on going back to her home. My dear husband in his prophetic wisdom said, "give me the name of the nursing home where you want to go. In six weeks you'll be there." Boy was she mad. I can still see the anger in her face and set of her jaw. Henry took her home that day. That very day. That was June 28th.
July 28th Henry and I were visiting a sister in Christ at a local nursing home. We received a call that Mom was in the ER in Winchester. Over the next days the story would unfold. Winchester had experienced a bit of a wind storm that had blown limbs out of her trees. The temperatures were in 100's, so even though she "complained" to both her sons, they both said it was too hot to be outside and that we were ALL staying inside. Not mom. On that Wednesday we spoke with her at 9:45 a.m. Our Missy spoke with her sometime before or after and she told her, (not us), that she was going outside to pick up sticks. As near as we can tell, she made a walk around the house and about 5' from the back porch steps she either: fainted or had a heart attack. Either way she lay in the sun for approximately two hours before a mail carrier came early and happen to see her blouse waving in the wind.
For five days she languished on a ventilator after arriving with a fever in "far excess" of 105.8, (doctors estimate 107), with third degree burns on her legs, a septic UTI, second degree burns on her stomach and a heart that was now working about about 30% it's capacity. Her life hung in a very delicate balance. But, when she decided to awaken, she did. Much to the surprise of the CCU doctor she awoke with no serious brain damage (though some continues to unfold), and willing to "get on with things".
On August 9th my husband had a knee replacement. On the 11th Mom came back to Bridgewater for rehab. Things were looking up. The doctors had already told mom she could not go home, so she had settled herself with the idea of coming to live with us. We were getting reacquainted with the idea and she asked that I bring things to our home. I loaded up my car and hauled personal items from her house to mine in expectation that on August 31st she'd be heading back to our house. Ahhhh, but not so fast...
August 21st we were celebrating Henry's birthday. We'd visited Mom that day and she seemed down a bit, but okay. At 6 p.m. we received a call that she was running a high fever and was not in her right mind. I spent the next 7 hours with her in the ER. She was admitted with a UTI. After careful examination it was determined she probably had cellulitis in her burn areas of her legs. On August 25th she had a debriding of her legs. A pic line was inserted on August 26th. On her 84th birthday, August 27th she was headed back to Bridgewater. Within fifteen minutes of her arrival a phone call from RMH informed them that she was a "C-diff" suspect (clostridium difficile) and should be in isolation. The move was traumatic for Mom. The test results were never provided so after her symptoms were alleviated she went back to her room. Once again we hoped she was on the road to recovery.
Bridgewater had nearly become her home. She was happy there, loved her caregivers and had settled in with the therapists to get better and come "home". Two of her great-grandsons were with us that week, so she was able to see them every day and was happily coming along.
Then... betrayal....
On Labor Day we went to see Mom. She didn't quite seem herself. She was moody and seemed tired. Henry left with a thought to her getting sick again. She had had some blood in her urine and had told the nurses.
3:00 a.m. the call came. High temp and delirious. Admitted with another UTI only this time.... this time it was VRE. Vancomycin-resistant enterococci. If you have never heard of it, don't worry. You will. It is the equal to AIDS. Perhaps worse than AIDS. AIDS has some political backing to keep the pariah attitude somewhat at bay. VRE has no political backing and creates fear in the heart of every "better" nursing home in the nation. Treating the VRE resulted in another case of C-diff and here we are. Bridgewater called to tell us there was "no room at the Inn". Neither was there "room" in any of the top three. From there it's down hill.
Meetings resulted with doctors, nurses, social workers. Learning of the chronic natures of these dis-eases. Learning that Mom's quality of life was quickly going out the window. Learning more than I ever wanted to know.
The end isn't here. Everything keeps going on and on and on. Mom's tired, we're tired... it's a never ending circle. Yesterday, when she was to be released to the nursing home of no one's choice a blood clot was discovered in her pic line. So she has a reprieve. Four more days in the hospital.
Through a glass darkly is becoming more and more a watch word for all of us. As people of strong faith we are now beginning to ask the "whys" and the answer is "through a glass darkly". Who knows? God knows. All the rest is just walking through the valley. Not stopping, not placing blame, not sleeping, not resting. Just walking. Walking through a sea of doctors, nurses, government bureaucracy and social workers. Walking.
I think I need new shoes.
Like traveling in a rain storm being drenched on the windshield. It's like looking through a carnival glass. You can "see", but the images are distorted and the landscape is as odd as to be indiscernable from the road.
Such is life at this moment.
My mother in law has been the strongest women in my life. Mom stands very tall even in comparison to my own mother who told the doctor, "I will go home." And strutted in the door to die quietly in her bed within 48 hours.
Around six year ago Mom had a hip replacement. In the midst of her rehab she developed MRSA and ended up in a nursing home receiving IV antibiotics for a period of time. But, she came through well. Went home and spent the next few years in her chair with all but a scepter ruling her family from that chair. She drove to church and to the Dollar store and hid the times she fell or hit the garage door or otherwise did things she knew we would find troublesome. She complained when we didn't visit or call and often complained when we did. Her bitterness at her widowhood grew and her frugal living grew also.
Four years later during a visit with my son she revealed a horrific accident that resulted in some serious damage to her leg. In her desire to "hide the evidence" she developed cellulitis. Serious stuff when it comes to connective tissue and nerves. The leg was painful from there forward. Stubbornness has a price.
In May of this year (two years since that accident) she decided that the pain in her knee was worse than the pain in her hip, so she consented to another knee replacement. While we were not comfortable with the surgery, as she seemed frail to us, we knew it was her decision to make, along with the surgeon. We also had her 99% convinced in light of falls and whatnot that she should move in with us at the completion of this surgery.
Her surgery done and two pints of blood later, we had the good fortune of her going to Bridgewater Retirement Community for her rehab. She worked hard, complained much and was released to us in 21 days. In our "new" home, bought just for her, with TV and phone, she went through 3 more weeks of in house therapy. Her attitude became more and more combative as time went on. At the time we thought she could settle in here she announced she was going home. No consideration for the amount of money we had spent, were spending and were locked into spending she insisted on going back to her home. My dear husband in his prophetic wisdom said, "give me the name of the nursing home where you want to go. In six weeks you'll be there." Boy was she mad. I can still see the anger in her face and set of her jaw. Henry took her home that day. That very day. That was June 28th.
July 28th Henry and I were visiting a sister in Christ at a local nursing home. We received a call that Mom was in the ER in Winchester. Over the next days the story would unfold. Winchester had experienced a bit of a wind storm that had blown limbs out of her trees. The temperatures were in 100's, so even though she "complained" to both her sons, they both said it was too hot to be outside and that we were ALL staying inside. Not mom. On that Wednesday we spoke with her at 9:45 a.m. Our Missy spoke with her sometime before or after and she told her, (not us), that she was going outside to pick up sticks. As near as we can tell, she made a walk around the house and about 5' from the back porch steps she either: fainted or had a heart attack. Either way she lay in the sun for approximately two hours before a mail carrier came early and happen to see her blouse waving in the wind.
For five days she languished on a ventilator after arriving with a fever in "far excess" of 105.8, (doctors estimate 107), with third degree burns on her legs, a septic UTI, second degree burns on her stomach and a heart that was now working about about 30% it's capacity. Her life hung in a very delicate balance. But, when she decided to awaken, she did. Much to the surprise of the CCU doctor she awoke with no serious brain damage (though some continues to unfold), and willing to "get on with things".
On August 9th my husband had a knee replacement. On the 11th Mom came back to Bridgewater for rehab. Things were looking up. The doctors had already told mom she could not go home, so she had settled herself with the idea of coming to live with us. We were getting reacquainted with the idea and she asked that I bring things to our home. I loaded up my car and hauled personal items from her house to mine in expectation that on August 31st she'd be heading back to our house. Ahhhh, but not so fast...
August 21st we were celebrating Henry's birthday. We'd visited Mom that day and she seemed down a bit, but okay. At 6 p.m. we received a call that she was running a high fever and was not in her right mind. I spent the next 7 hours with her in the ER. She was admitted with a UTI. After careful examination it was determined she probably had cellulitis in her burn areas of her legs. On August 25th she had a debriding of her legs. A pic line was inserted on August 26th. On her 84th birthday, August 27th she was headed back to Bridgewater. Within fifteen minutes of her arrival a phone call from RMH informed them that she was a "C-diff" suspect (clostridium difficile) and should be in isolation. The move was traumatic for Mom. The test results were never provided so after her symptoms were alleviated she went back to her room. Once again we hoped she was on the road to recovery.
Bridgewater had nearly become her home. She was happy there, loved her caregivers and had settled in with the therapists to get better and come "home". Two of her great-grandsons were with us that week, so she was able to see them every day and was happily coming along.
Then... betrayal....
On Labor Day we went to see Mom. She didn't quite seem herself. She was moody and seemed tired. Henry left with a thought to her getting sick again. She had had some blood in her urine and had told the nurses.
3:00 a.m. the call came. High temp and delirious. Admitted with another UTI only this time.... this time it was VRE. Vancomycin-resistant enterococci. If you have never heard of it, don't worry. You will. It is the equal to AIDS. Perhaps worse than AIDS. AIDS has some political backing to keep the pariah attitude somewhat at bay. VRE has no political backing and creates fear in the heart of every "better" nursing home in the nation. Treating the VRE resulted in another case of C-diff and here we are. Bridgewater called to tell us there was "no room at the Inn". Neither was there "room" in any of the top three. From there it's down hill.
Meetings resulted with doctors, nurses, social workers. Learning of the chronic natures of these dis-eases. Learning that Mom's quality of life was quickly going out the window. Learning more than I ever wanted to know.
The end isn't here. Everything keeps going on and on and on. Mom's tired, we're tired... it's a never ending circle. Yesterday, when she was to be released to the nursing home of no one's choice a blood clot was discovered in her pic line. So she has a reprieve. Four more days in the hospital.
Through a glass darkly is becoming more and more a watch word for all of us. As people of strong faith we are now beginning to ask the "whys" and the answer is "through a glass darkly". Who knows? God knows. All the rest is just walking through the valley. Not stopping, not placing blame, not sleeping, not resting. Just walking. Walking through a sea of doctors, nurses, government bureaucracy and social workers. Walking.
I think I need new shoes.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
God is Great, God is Good
And yes, while I thank Him for my food, that is not all,by far, that I thank Him for! Our latest "big" thanksgiving is two fold.
The husband has been planning his knee replacement and on June 28th when he went in for his pre-op for his July 28 surgical date. His EKG came back awry. Very awry. Awry enough that they scheduled him for an immediate echocardiagram for the next day. On June the 29th, even though he "passed" the echo, the cardiologist stated he'd "like" to have a stress test to be sure. Because we were leaving for Annual Conference the next day his surgical date was pushed back to August 9th. Henry and I were very upset about the date change.
There is so much about the Universe of God that we neither know nor comprehend.
Well, the stress test came and went and he passed just fine. The rest of the tests were done, chest x-ray, blood work, meeting with physical therapy and all the rest of that stuff and the August 9th date was confirmed. We asked about "cancellations" for July 28th.
God's timing is perfect. We, on the other hand, are not.
This past Wednesday... July 28th .... we had our Bible study at church ending at 11. From there Henry and I went McDonalds and had a salad and then went on to the Harrisonburg Rehabilitation Center to visit one of our nursing home folks before I had an allergy doctor appointment. It was about twelve-fifteen when we entered the home. As we visited with Sue and talked of this an that, the cell phone rang and it was my brother-in-law, Steve.
At the same time a woman named Teresa was on her regular mail route. The mail was light that day, so she was running an hour or so ahead of time. She pulled into my mother-in-laws drive, where we had moved her mailbox so she wouldn't have to cross the road. She put the mail in the box, put her car in gear to pull away when something in the breeze caught her eye.
Mom was on the ground, unconscious, barely breathing when Teresa found her and stops breathing while she is with her. Her fever exceeds 106 degrees. Her heart stops just after the squad gets there.
~~~
What timing. What perfection. A surgical procedure postponed. A woman is early in her regular rounds. A rescue squad comes just in time. Two "errors" converge to effect both families. The third timing effects all those involved.
~~~
Now mom isn't out of the woods yet, by any means. She is just today off the ventilator. She still cannot communicate and she may never. Her mental damage is unknown at this time. We don't know the future. But, God sure does. He proved that quite neatly. Had the EKG been fine and my husband been in the hospital having surgery he would have been miserable not being with his mother these last days. By being early, this woman allowed her children and mine to see their beloved Nanny for, perhaps, the last time.
This is no "cosmic joke" or "coincidence" ~ This is God's PERFECT TIMING. If all this isn't the greatest example of why NOT to WORRY, I don't know what is.
A week from tomorrow. Husband's surgery. I'm sure the timing will be perfect.
The husband has been planning his knee replacement and on June 28th when he went in for his pre-op for his July 28 surgical date. His EKG came back awry. Very awry. Awry enough that they scheduled him for an immediate echocardiagram for the next day. On June the 29th, even though he "passed" the echo, the cardiologist stated he'd "like" to have a stress test to be sure. Because we were leaving for Annual Conference the next day his surgical date was pushed back to August 9th. Henry and I were very upset about the date change.
There is so much about the Universe of God that we neither know nor comprehend.
Well, the stress test came and went and he passed just fine. The rest of the tests were done, chest x-ray, blood work, meeting with physical therapy and all the rest of that stuff and the August 9th date was confirmed. We asked about "cancellations" for July 28th.
God's timing is perfect. We, on the other hand, are not.
This past Wednesday... July 28th .... we had our Bible study at church ending at 11. From there Henry and I went McDonalds and had a salad and then went on to the Harrisonburg Rehabilitation Center to visit one of our nursing home folks before I had an allergy doctor appointment. It was about twelve-fifteen when we entered the home. As we visited with Sue and talked of this an that, the cell phone rang and it was my brother-in-law, Steve.
At the same time a woman named Teresa was on her regular mail route. The mail was light that day, so she was running an hour or so ahead of time. She pulled into my mother-in-laws drive, where we had moved her mailbox so she wouldn't have to cross the road. She put the mail in the box, put her car in gear to pull away when something in the breeze caught her eye.
Mom was on the ground, unconscious, barely breathing when Teresa found her and stops breathing while she is with her. Her fever exceeds 106 degrees. Her heart stops just after the squad gets there.
~~~
What timing. What perfection. A surgical procedure postponed. A woman is early in her regular rounds. A rescue squad comes just in time. Two "errors" converge to effect both families. The third timing effects all those involved.
~~~
Now mom isn't out of the woods yet, by any means. She is just today off the ventilator. She still cannot communicate and she may never. Her mental damage is unknown at this time. We don't know the future. But, God sure does. He proved that quite neatly. Had the EKG been fine and my husband been in the hospital having surgery he would have been miserable not being with his mother these last days. By being early, this woman allowed her children and mine to see their beloved Nanny for, perhaps, the last time.
This is no "cosmic joke" or "coincidence" ~ This is God's PERFECT TIMING. If all this isn't the greatest example of why NOT to WORRY, I don't know what is.
A week from tomorrow. Husband's surgery. I'm sure the timing will be perfect.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Forty Seconds
So much has happened in the last several months that it's actually hard to compose it all or even to process it all. The Advent season was a blur in that it was spent in preparation for one event or another ~ the Live Nativity to leaving for Haiti left very little time for much else. Leaving for Haiti on December 28th was cause for confusion. After packing several suitcases we learned that only two were allowed and no more could be purchased either. That left us short on OTC that we planned to take along for clinics. But, it seems God knew that already and while in the country several clinics were rained out. In fact, we left behind a number of suture kits and antibiotics and a plethora of other items to be used at "some future time". They were... in a rescue operation ... days later.
Bringing in 2010 in Haiti was wonderful. Two full days of worship and singing and celebration for God's blessings in 2009 and expected blessings in 2010. The Haitian people have nothing but they sure have hope and faith that makes me feel little in comparison. Though I had some kind of foreshadow with this trip, I was never more glad to have gone. Still, we realized how much God works and how much suffering occurs in that Country while God performs miracle after miracle. Ask me about them sometime. Everyone wants to hear about the trip, but few want to believe the things we see or witness or well.. you know. Anything out of the ordinary makes us a tad uncomfortable and if it's out of the realm of normal, well... God help us in our unbelief!
Coming back was uneventful. So uneventful as to be strange. Five hours without a breakdown in rain! No blocked roads... nothing to prevent us from making our exit flight on time. Ahhh.. one can look back and wonder at all that.
Driving into Port au Prince we were in a traffic jam and stopped right in front of the UN compound gate for several minutes. Two soldiers were bargaining with a Haitian to buy one of his watches. That scene has played out in my mind a hundred times since January 11. We also were stopped for a minute or two in front of a technical school. I saw it on the news a few hours later as rubble, only the sign standing. The airport was in better shape than we had ever seen it! American Airlines had a beautiful portion of the terminal.. new... with air conditioning and no loading on the tarmac. It was super. "was" is operative here. An eye witness told me yesterday he wouldn't dream of entering that terminal now... He stood on the tarmac for 14 hours to get a C130 back to US soil.
When we landed in Miami one of my first orders of business was to call Carol Ann. She's always gone with us on our trips and this year her doctor forbade her to go and when she said she "just might go anyway" Henry and I told her she couldn't go because we wouldn't let her defy her doctor. I wanted her to be a part of our trip, so called her as soon as we hit US soil. She was on her way to Winchester Medical Center. She had found her husband slumped over the woodpile a little while before that. It was 4:12 p.m. I remember looking at my watch.
Again, the flight was uneventful as we flew into Dulles and was met by our dear friend and driver, Walter. We were no time at all getting out of the airport and as soon as we cleared the area, I sent Carol a text, "update?" It was 11:20 p.m. I was not prepared for her return text. Townsend had died ten minutes before. Do you know how many times I have realized how horrible it would have been if Carol Ann had been with us on the trip? God knows the future in so many ways. Life can change in an instant. An instant... A blood vessel bursts....
We got into bed somewhere around 3 a.m. and by noon the next day we were on our way to West Virginia. When we got there Carol was sleeping so I didn't bother her. We just took seats in the living room and watched CNN like everyone else. There was a house full.
Around 5:10 my world stopped for a few moments. Here I was 27.5 hours away from being "there" to learn that my second home had been rocked, literally by a massive earthquake. How many times looking over those mountains from planes and buses and wondered about their formation? How many people did I love that lived just near that epicenter? How many people did I love that lived within 70 miles of it? And here I was, at the home of another loved one already in mourning. A 40 second earthquake. Forty seconds and a city is in ruins. Forty seconds and family is decimated.
It took two days to hear of the status of my family there. Two days of tears and wringing of hands and hundreds of phone calls (or so it seemed). Many called me to make sure we'd gotten home. Others called to see what we had heard and I called many to check and check and check. Emails flew like the wind and hourly texts were sent. I am thankful that all whom I personally knew live. Many of those they personally knew did not. One church fallen, another badly damaged. Homes destroyed.
My next order of business was to see who we could get out. It turned out that four of our family had grabbed passports as they left their collapsing home and we were able to fly them out of Santiago. They spent three weeks with us and have now gone north to a brother's home to try to be able to stay here. They have no place to go... a pregnant mother with two small children. The father will return to Haiti where he can find work (he cannot by law work here) and he will sleep in his truck that was undamaged. He will help where he can and provide for his family if he can. He will try. Others sleep under tarps or have gone to the mountains where safety is a bit more sure... for now.
But what of others. These lives changed in 40 seconds! Carol's life changed in seconds.... our lives can be taken in 40 seconds or less. It put a whole new perspective on life for me. In forty seconds I can be safely here, safely Home in eternity or suffering in eternity. Some of that scenario is still my choice.... the 4o seconds is not. 275,000 people had 40 seconds or less.
Choice... Townsend's choice was Jesus. Others in Haiti made the choice for Jesus also ~ but there were/are those that don't, won't or..... Forty seconds.
Bringing in 2010 in Haiti was wonderful. Two full days of worship and singing and celebration for God's blessings in 2009 and expected blessings in 2010. The Haitian people have nothing but they sure have hope and faith that makes me feel little in comparison. Though I had some kind of foreshadow with this trip, I was never more glad to have gone. Still, we realized how much God works and how much suffering occurs in that Country while God performs miracle after miracle. Ask me about them sometime. Everyone wants to hear about the trip, but few want to believe the things we see or witness or well.. you know. Anything out of the ordinary makes us a tad uncomfortable and if it's out of the realm of normal, well... God help us in our unbelief!
Coming back was uneventful. So uneventful as to be strange. Five hours without a breakdown in rain! No blocked roads... nothing to prevent us from making our exit flight on time. Ahhh.. one can look back and wonder at all that.
Driving into Port au Prince we were in a traffic jam and stopped right in front of the UN compound gate for several minutes. Two soldiers were bargaining with a Haitian to buy one of his watches. That scene has played out in my mind a hundred times since January 11. We also were stopped for a minute or two in front of a technical school. I saw it on the news a few hours later as rubble, only the sign standing. The airport was in better shape than we had ever seen it! American Airlines had a beautiful portion of the terminal.. new... with air conditioning and no loading on the tarmac. It was super. "was" is operative here. An eye witness told me yesterday he wouldn't dream of entering that terminal now... He stood on the tarmac for 14 hours to get a C130 back to US soil.
When we landed in Miami one of my first orders of business was to call Carol Ann. She's always gone with us on our trips and this year her doctor forbade her to go and when she said she "just might go anyway" Henry and I told her she couldn't go because we wouldn't let her defy her doctor. I wanted her to be a part of our trip, so called her as soon as we hit US soil. She was on her way to Winchester Medical Center. She had found her husband slumped over the woodpile a little while before that. It was 4:12 p.m. I remember looking at my watch.
Again, the flight was uneventful as we flew into Dulles and was met by our dear friend and driver, Walter. We were no time at all getting out of the airport and as soon as we cleared the area, I sent Carol a text, "update?" It was 11:20 p.m. I was not prepared for her return text. Townsend had died ten minutes before. Do you know how many times I have realized how horrible it would have been if Carol Ann had been with us on the trip? God knows the future in so many ways. Life can change in an instant. An instant... A blood vessel bursts....
We got into bed somewhere around 3 a.m. and by noon the next day we were on our way to West Virginia. When we got there Carol was sleeping so I didn't bother her. We just took seats in the living room and watched CNN like everyone else. There was a house full.
Around 5:10 my world stopped for a few moments. Here I was 27.5 hours away from being "there" to learn that my second home had been rocked, literally by a massive earthquake. How many times looking over those mountains from planes and buses and wondered about their formation? How many people did I love that lived just near that epicenter? How many people did I love that lived within 70 miles of it? And here I was, at the home of another loved one already in mourning. A 40 second earthquake. Forty seconds and a city is in ruins. Forty seconds and family is decimated.
It took two days to hear of the status of my family there. Two days of tears and wringing of hands and hundreds of phone calls (or so it seemed). Many called me to make sure we'd gotten home. Others called to see what we had heard and I called many to check and check and check. Emails flew like the wind and hourly texts were sent. I am thankful that all whom I personally knew live. Many of those they personally knew did not. One church fallen, another badly damaged. Homes destroyed.
My next order of business was to see who we could get out. It turned out that four of our family had grabbed passports as they left their collapsing home and we were able to fly them out of Santiago. They spent three weeks with us and have now gone north to a brother's home to try to be able to stay here. They have no place to go... a pregnant mother with two small children. The father will return to Haiti where he can find work (he cannot by law work here) and he will sleep in his truck that was undamaged. He will help where he can and provide for his family if he can. He will try. Others sleep under tarps or have gone to the mountains where safety is a bit more sure... for now.
But what of others. These lives changed in 40 seconds! Carol's life changed in seconds.... our lives can be taken in 40 seconds or less. It put a whole new perspective on life for me. In forty seconds I can be safely here, safely Home in eternity or suffering in eternity. Some of that scenario is still my choice.... the 4o seconds is not. 275,000 people had 40 seconds or less.
Choice... Townsend's choice was Jesus. Others in Haiti made the choice for Jesus also ~ but there were/are those that don't, won't or..... Forty seconds.
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