Tuesday, June 16, 2015

Day +13

I feel that I am living in a world of pain and blood. And very little sleep. And low blood counts. Last night my nurse gave me a strong narcotic to help with the bone pain, but narcotics are hit or miss for me. They always help the pain, but sometimes they put me to sleep, and sometimes they are like an adrenaline burst. Last night, it was the latter. I was also up all night anxious that I was bleeding through my bandages on my stomach. I slept for about an hour and a half. A very long night turned into an equally long day today as I received more shots and bled more and more. I feel I am bleeding everywhere and nothing will stop it. I am currently in the process of receiving yet another platelet transfusion, "the biggest bag I have ever seen!" my nurse remarked. I pray they take effect quickly.

My bones ache. My feet burn. My stomach is agony. I am having a reaction to my immune suppressant drugs, just like I did last time. I have the sensation that my feet are on fire all the time, and anything that touches them further ignites the flame. Walks are a challenge. My stomach is nothing but needle marks and bruises. It is causing me enough pain that my P.A. plans to fully examine it tomorrow and make sure he can't see any infection in all the bleeding holes. For now, I sit with an ice pack and a prayer on my lips for sanity and comfort. This is the part of transplants that takes the most determination: the agonizing climb out of the depths.

But I had Katie again today. And I got to see Aurora and Colten today. My daughter is extraordinary. I know she is meant for great things, else God would not have worked so hard to get her here against all odds. She already touches people without trying, and draws everyone around to her. I am honored to be her mother, and to daily touch her light. We went on my walks today, and I watched her happily skip in front of me, singing to herself and taking delight in a little stroll around the halls. She held my hand and I forgot how much it hurt to take a step. I felt happy. Strong. She serenaded everyone at the nurses station each time we passed by after one of the nurses said, "Please sing! I heard you singing earlier and it was so beautiful! You are so beautiful." Aurora smiled her sweet, toothless smile and obliged, happy to engage in one of her favorite past times. I love my girl. She is why I am here, why I willingly sit in discomfort, and why I will make it through this.

And today was not without blessings. Huge blessings, in fact. We have planned to buy Aurora a new bed for her birthday for a couple months. We have the money stored in our safe and have just been trying to get settled (and actually find one she likes that is decent quality and in an affordable price range--not an easy feat). We finally found the bed, and Colten planned to go and pick it up today in our truck, which has slowly been dying since it started getting used on a more regular basis during all the trips back and forth to Pocatello hauling things. We don't have the money to fix it, so we've been limping it along and hoping it will pull through. So, Colten and Aurora spent the day with me and then planned to go to Draper, which is about 30 minutes away, and pick up the bed. But Colten forgot the money in the safe, so instead he had to drive all the way back to our apartment and then go get the bed. Turns out this was God's plan all along.

Our truck started to overheat and lost all its coolant on the short trip back to our apartment, and it pulled into our parking lot by nothing but sheer will on Colten's part. So, he got Aurora settled in the apartment, and went out to take a look under the hood. What greeted him were numerous hoses leaking, and a very broken vehicle. At this point he started swearing (no judgment, I would have done the same), and I can imagine him hanging his head in defeat at yet another thing gone wrong. And then a stranger walked over. He asked what the problem was, and started poking around the truck. "Ah, that's no big deal," he said, and walked over to his own truck. He came back with hoses and other necessities and proceeded to spend three and a half hours fixing the leaks. When it was finished, he said, "Have a great day," and drove away. He never even gave Colten his name, and it doesn't appear that he lives at our complex, but rather is one of the construction workers finishing the remaining buildings. And I so wish that I could thank him with everything I have in my heart, because just thinking of what he did makes me want to cry.

Colten called me to say goodnight and relayed the fact that he had not been able to pick up Aurora's bed, but that he had been richly blessed, instead. He told me what had happened and I cried. I have prayed all day for relief and have received none, but God is taking care of us in His time and in His way. And, as Colten said, "I have a working truck to go get the bed tomorrow." I also got my favorite aide again tonight. His name is Daniel, and he is an older gentleman. Whenever he comes into my room it is always with a smile and a joke. He makes me feel like my dad is here taking care of me because he just has that way about him. I adore him. And tonight, we talked about God, and how easy it is to be ungrateful, but how much better it is to be grateful. We laughed and we talked and I felt better, at least mentally. And I know I made his night better, too. I told him he was wonderful and I appreciated him so much. So I achieved my goal for the day.

I don't know if my counts will come up tomorrow. Honestly, I doubt it. My sister remarked today that it seems God feels like our family really needs to work on patience, and so He continually gives us opportunities to do so. I don't know if the platelets will make the bleeding stop. I don't know if the pain will decrease or worsen. But God does. So I am going to try and sleep, and trust Him to take care of tomorrow, just like He took care of today.   

6 comments:

  1. Jaymi, thank you for taking us on this ride with you--complete with all it's myriad challenges, small (and BIG) triumphs, and pain. I read your blog and pray for you every morning. I can't fathom how difficult this must be. I'm glad you got to see Rora and Colten yesterday.

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    1. Thanks Auntie, some days I don't feel like the daily saga is worth reporting on, but it helps to write and I want to remember everything when it is over. Love you!

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  2. Love how God blessed you guys with the truck! I love that there are people out there that are still willing to be the blessing, what an amazing gentleman! Praying for your comfort and strength as well as action in the blood count area. Love you!

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    1. I know, I still can't quite believe it, you just don't find people like that these days. The truck still has other issues but it should get us by for awhile longer now!

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  3. Grandpa and I just sat and poured out our hearts to God for you, Bill, and Mari - your blog put me in tears - Grandpa's hospice aide was here and so concerned for you, too. Couldn't help but brag about your determination and about our darling great granddaughter - Tina got tears in her eyes when I told her Rory's story and how she's our miracle baby. I'm praying especially for those blood cells to get busy and do their work, instead of causing so much mischief. Hang in there, and know how very much we love you! Wish you could hear Grandpa praying for you - powerful prayers of love and pleas for God to help you bear all this - our first prayer, of course, is that He would just take it away and deliver you from all the pain and frustration; but if that isn't part of His plan, then please, dear God, give her strength to bear it and comfort thru it all!

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    1. I wish I could hear Grandpa's prayers too, I think they would bring me incredible peace, but I feel better just knowing they are going up to God. If He's going to listen to anyone, it's you and Grandpa. :-) Love you!

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