Praying for a Cure – Childhood Cancer

Julianna and way too many others

The words, “children” and “cancer” should never be in the same sentence, let alone the words, “childhood cancer.” It’s just wrong.   I might be extra sensitive, having battled through my boy’s childhood leukemia and still dealing with the consequences all these years later.  But I don’t think I’m special or unique.  I’m pretty certain that any one of us, seeing those St. Jude Hospital (and medical research facility) commercials, feel a little heart-tug.

I cannot help but follow certain families that come through prayer chain requests.  Even when I do not personally know them, it hits me hard!  It’s a helpless feeling – the fixer in me wants to jump in and help, but having gone through the journey, I know I cannot fix –  just help, pray, give and care.

This week, I’m inviting you to share with me. No, don’t panic, I’m not asking you to donate or give (although I’m sure that would be fine too).  I’m just asking for a moment of your time to pray.  A little girl named Julianna has been fighting a rare type of brain cancer.  The family has flown her to England for treatments and is now somewhere else in an effort to find treatment and comfort for their precious little one.  My heart aches.

Julianna – Praying for a Cure
Childhood Cancer

Click here to read just a little about her:  Julianna’s Journey.

Yes, this is a donation site, but it also gives some background.

There is also this facebook group, where you can follow her story.

So today, in the middle of sharing our blog posts and praying for each other.  I’m asking you to pray for Julianna, and all the other children out there fighting unimaginable battles, whether it’s cancer or some other disease.

 

I cannot wait for Heaven, where cancer will be obliterated and replaced with happiness and health.  Until then, let’s pray for each other!

I cannot wait for Heaven, where cancer will be obliterated and replaced with happiness and health.… Click To Tweet

Inspire Me Monday Instructions

What’s your inspirational story? Link up below, and don’t forget the 1-2-3s of building community:

1. Link up your favorite posts from last week!

2. Visit TWO other contributors (especially the person who linked up right before you) and leave an encouraging comment.

3. Spread the cheer THREE ways! Tweet something from a post you read, share a post on your Facebook page, stumble upon it, pin it or whatever social media outlet you prefer—just do it!

Don’t forget to visit the other #InspireMeMonday host site: www.anitaojeda.com

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Pray and Persist: The Keys to Advocating for Adolescents

Advocating

Flashbacks by Proxy

The hiss of the bus stopping at the United terminal at the Newark, NJ airport stabbed me. We grabbed our suitcases, in preparation from finishing our transfer from one terminal to another on the airport bus. Two years had passed since that fateful night when we almost lost Sarah, and I hadn’t expected my eyes to tear up as we traveled through an airport we had never been to before.

Questions bounced around inside my head as I gripped the my suitcase handle. Had Sarah stumbled off this very bus the night she almost died? Had she listened to the swoosh of the automatic doors and smelled the jet fuel before collapsing on the tarmac? My momma heart wanted to know the details of that night, even if they hurt. Even though two years had passed, I wanted to make sense of all that had happened during that dark period of her life.

Every momma wants to soothe, protect, and bring light into our children’s nightmares—whether our child is five, 15, or 25. I will probably never know exactly what happened that night, but I believe that praying for my daughter made a difference in the outcome of her story.

The very night that sirens wailed and flashing lights converged on the scene while paramedics knelt at Sarah’s side, I knelt beside my bed, 2000 miles away, clueless to her plight. I knew she was in danger, but I didn’t know how much. The urge to pray was so great that I did something I had never done before—I sent out requests to some of Sarah’s mentors and friends and asked them to pray with me.

More Questions Than Answers

We didn’t find out until over a week later that paramedics rushed Sarah to a hospital near the airport and eventually released her after 12 hours. It took months for the full story to emerge.

Our well-brought-up-Christian daughter, the one we strove to instill with the proper balance of caution and freedom, had accepted some drug-laced ‘candies’ from strangers. Without even stopping to think of all the lessons we’d taught her, she had popped the candies into her mouth and ended up passed out at the airport on the tarmac between terminals. While it wasn’t exactly an overdose, it did require hospital observation.

At almost 21, she seemed too old to accept and ingest candy of questionable origin from people she had never met before. After all, we taught her all about stranger danger from an early age.

Had we failed as parents? For the past two years, Sarah’s behavior had bewildered us. She started binge eating and gained weight. When she went away to college she struggled to get good grades—despite her 4.0 high-school GPA. She lost confidence in her ability to reason and think and write.

When she couldn’t decide on a major, she went to Argentina for a year, where she seemed to suffer from the throes of first love as well as deep depression. When she returned, the first love was a thing of the past, but the depression remained.

We took Sarah to counseling. She continued to gain weight. We took her to psychologists. She spoke of going for a walk at night and stepping in front of a car. She came home to stay with us until we could figure things out. I spent hours on the phone trying to find a treatment center that our insurance would pay for.

You can find the rest of the story over at Kindred Mom.

pray

 

 

Put a Penny in your Pocket

And make a deal with God - an Inspire Me Monday Post

My dog tugged on the leash as I looked down at the tarnished penny in the road.  Should I pick it up?

Is a penny on the road a sign from God? Maybe if it’s needed.

“Put a penny in your pocket, and save it for a rainy day.” My grandma’s green eyes sparkled as she picked up a penny and slid it into her pocket.  I raced ahead across the parking lot, as I often did, to check the newspaper coin return for quarters.  It was our ritual.  Any time I walked with Gram, we checked the coin return in telephone booths, candy machines and any change found went into Gram’s pocket.  She sang that little ditty from her childhood, but she always grinned at me and added, “It’s for investment. God and I have a deal.”

Gram was always collecting for “investment.” 

A quarter lost in the parking lot.  A tip earned from her job at the bakery.  A penny abandoned on the sidewalk.  Change left in the washing machine.  Often I wondered how much these little offerings could possibly contribute to the needs of the world, but those thoughts never stopped me from helping.  Gram had a way of making it fun and it was our special thing, along with writing silly poetry.

One day I asked if she really thought her investment money made a difference. 

Her eyes grew serious and we sat together on a park bench while she reminded me that God didn’t really need our money, but He did need that commitment from us.  She said any chance we have of helping Him by serving others is our way of showing Him our love and trust.  And then Gram told me how much investment money she had turned in the previous year.  My eyes grew wide – I had no idea her quarters, dimes and pennies added up to that amount. 

But over time, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I often found coins when I was with Gram and they were for investment. 

I rarely found coins when by myself.

Hmm.  I wondered – was that God helping Gram with her investment?

After all, Gram had told me, she asked God for lots of things, and this was the thing that she did for God.  It was kind of her deal with God – whatever she found, was His.

I picked up the tarnished penny and placed it in my pocket.  My dog tugged happily and we continued our walk while thoughts kept running through my head.

I’ve asked God for a lot in the last few years:

·         Our son to be healed from leukemia

·         Safety for our oldest daughter in Guatemala

·         Our middle daughter to be able to attend the college of her choice

·         A job to work out

·         Safety on long daily commutes

·         Prayers for our mothers

·         And many other things that came and went in my life

Yes.  I made a lot of requests of my Savior.  And while I know He doesn’t mind, I began to ponder what I’ve given Him in return.  Sure, I teach about Him daily, I’m privileged in my job to be able to do that.  I sing to Him a lot.  I pray a lot and I give thanks many times a day.  It has been my delight to go on many mission trips, but those are so fun for me, I don’t really believe they’re much of a sacrifice.

My dog joyfully raced around me in circles as we cut through the park and out onto the road on the other side.  As I bent to fasten her leash once again, something bright and shiny glistened in the sun in the middle of the road. I checked for cars and led the dog into the road.  I grabbed another penny and slid it into my pocket with the first.

Yes, God.  You’re right.  I need to be more intentional about looking for ways to give back.

“Put a penny in your pocket” chanted in my head as my steps turned toward home.  Two cents wasn’t going to change the world.  So far, I didn’t have enough to even warrant me sending it to my church treasurer, but the conviction grew in my heart.

“I’m going to do it, Gram,” I whispered.  “I’m going to keep up your investment project.”  I don’t know why I haven’t done so before.

My dog danced on the end of her leash as we cut through the shortcut to my street.  Right in front of my house, wouldn’t you know it – a third penny sat waiting for me in the street.

My blue eyes sparkled as I slid the penny into my pocket.

God and I have a deal.

With God,a pittance can be huge.

 

With God, a penny goes a long way! #inspirememonday #blessedbutstressed Click To Tweet

 

Inspire Me Monday Instructions

What’s your inspirational story? Link up below, and don’t forget the 1-2-3s of building community:

1. Link up your favorite posts from last week!

2. Visit TWO other contributors (especially the person who linked up right before you) and leave an encouraging comment.

3. Spread the cheer THREE ways! Tweet something from a post you read, share a post on your Facebook page, stumble upon it, pin it or whatever social media outlet you prefer—just do it!

Don’t forget to visit the other #InspireMeMonday host site: www.anitaojeda.com

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More Some: Desiring more of our Father’s gifts

A FMF post

Join us as we write about the prompt: More.

You’ll find some amazing stories over on Kate Motaung’s page for Five-Minute-Friday, where she gives a prompt and we write and post.

A little child’s trust in the love of her father: more some

Chubby, pink-stained fingers clutched the bowl out in front of her, “More some!” begged my little two-year-old as she followed her daddy around the yard.  Her red-rimmed mouth pursed in the most delightful way as she stumbled along behind him, repeating her request, “More some!”

Of course it worked.  Daddy, no matter what he was working on, headed over to the rambling raspberry bushes taking over our fence-line.  He picked the biggest, ripest, and sweetest berries he could find and loaded her little Raggedy-Ann bowl.  She perched on the garden wall and waited, kicking her feet in anticipation, grinning at me as I watched.

“More some,” she announced with great satisfaction.

Daddy handed her the bowl and she lisped, “T’ank you!” and ate her berries with gusto.

“More some” is a phrase Daddy and Mommy came to treasure.  Our daughter’s complete trust in the fruit Daddy would choose, her delight in the simple treat and her persistence to gain something, even when she didn’t even have the right words to do so, gave us joy.

That sweet little red-head turns 22 tomorrow.  She’s almost done with her junior year in college and hoping to head for medical school.  She still wants “more some.”

And I’m glad.

It’s a positive trait – pushing for more.  Not because you’re dissatisfied with what you have, but because your goals are higher: your dreams are bigger!

Working your way up the ladder.

Striving for higher grades.

Seeking a healthier relationship.

Hoping for a cure.

Praying for a miracle.

Increasing trust in the love of our Heavenly Father and the gifts He wants to bestow on us.  Delighting in the things He has provided and persisting in our desire for MORE.

More some.

More of Jesus.

Desiring to get more some. More of Jesus. #fmfparty #FMF #blessedbutstressed Click To Tweet

Steal Away with Me

Enter My Presence and Refresh Your Spirit

Steal Away with Me – I will take care of you

Steal away with Me.

Escape the chains of responsibility

Eschew the ropes of judgement and scorn

Discard the tethers of others’ expectations

And sit awhile with Me.

Steal away with Me.

Let the laundry lie in its limp endless loads

Seek a crack in the cacophony of caregiving

Allow the worries of work to wander away

And relax a moment with Me.

Steal away with Me.

Life is not as I designed it:

Filled with wonder and beauty and love.

So let go of your unrealistic expectations

And trust yourself with Me.

Steal away with Me.

Let the breeze of My loving grace refresh you

Allow My peace to soak into your soul

Bask in the warmth of My wonder and love

And sit awhile with Me.

Steal away with Me – and I will give you peace

Steal Away with Me. Find grace in the presence of God #getaway #refeshyoursoul #inspirememonday Click To Tweet

What brings peace to your soul?

It seems we live in a crazy world.  Work, children, chores and even amazing church responsibilities all seek to divert our attention from the One who offers us the spirit of peace, love and grace.  This weekend, I hungered for that and found solace and grace at the beach.  Often I find serenity in a sunset, a waterfall or the earnest face of a student.  But I confess to days when I forget to even look for what our gracious Father offers us:  to cast our cares on Him, to rely on His direction and to remember that His plans are eternal.

How do you refresh your spirit?

I’d love to hear your comments below!

 

Inspire Me Monday Instructions

What’s your inspirational story? Link up below, and don’t forget the 1-2-3s of building community:

1. Link up your favorite posts from last week!

2. Visit TWO other contributors (especially the person who linked up right before you) and leave an encouraging comment.

3. Spread the cheer THREE ways! Tweet something from a post you read, share a post on your Facebook page, stumble upon it, pin it or whatever social media outlet you prefer—just do it!

Don’t forget to visit the other #InspireMeMonday host site: www.anitaojeda.com

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For the Caregiver Who Doesn’t Feel Like Celebrating Easter

EasterEaster Sunday or Easter Some Day?

Some celebrate with new outfits, decorating eggs, and a sunrise service at church. Others hide goodies for the little ones to hunt and then spend the rest of the day in the kitchen preparing a feast. Caregivers often just feel overwhelmed.

I didn’t grow up in a church that made a big deal about Easter Sunday (nor Lent, nor Palm Sunday). Other kids got new outfits, chocolate bunnies, and Easter egg hunts. I didn’t get why Christmas fell on the same day every year, but Easter hopped all over.

My dad explained that since no one had modern calendars back when Jesus was born, no one really knew whether he was born on December 25th or not. I never did get an explanation about why Easter falls on a different day each year. But I didn’t want to push the issue, because it took a fair amount of finagling to have a Christmas tree and celebrate Jesus’ birth. I didn’t want to push my luck by advocating for a holiday I couldn’t keep track of.

So I understand what it feels like when the whole world seems buzzing with excitement over a holiday you just can’t get in to. Don’t get me wrong. I know the significance of Jesus’ resurrection. I know he died on the cross on a Friday, got put in the tomb before sundown, and came back to life on Sunday morning.

The Caregiver’s Easter Moments

You don't need to stage a celebration to experience resurrection power! http://wp.me/p2UZoK-1De via @blestbutstrestAs a caregiver, I’ve experienced a small measure of the despair Jesus’ disciples felt as they saw him take his last breath on the cross. I have waited through the night, wondering if Pedro’s next breath would be his last. Because of a miracle, Pedro kept on breathing. But I understand the agony. I also understand the unbounded joy when a loved one pulls through—a resurrection of sorts.

I have despaired whether or not we would ever see our youngest daughter again. Friends wept and prayed with me through a torturous night of doubt. I understand the deep well of gratitude when a prodigal comes home—defying death and destruction and proving once again the miracle of rebirth.

So if you’re feeling wiped out and unable to celebrate anything today, dear caregiver, it’s ok. You don’t have to stage a celebration to experience the unbounded joy of knowing that Jesus lives. Hiding eggs and chocolate bunnies or slaving in a hot kitchen all day will not make the resurrection more real in the lives of the ones you love.

#Caregiver, you don't have to stage a celebration to know the joy of the #resurrection. Click To Tweet

Living each day with the knowledge that you follow the one who conquered the grave—now THAT has an impact. My Jesus conquered death; I know he can conquer my bad attitude. My Jesus has the keys to the grave; I know he can conquer my doubts and fears.

When we let Jesus conquer things for us, we have room in our lives for joy. And we don’t need to wait around for Easter Sunday (whenever it might fall) to celebrate.

Inspire Me Monday Instructions

What’s your inspirational story? Link up below, and don’t forget the 1-2-3s of building community:

1. Link up your favorite posts from last week!

2. Visit TWO other contributors (especially the person who linked up right before you) and leave an encouraging comment.

3. Spread the cheer THREE ways! Tweet something from a post you read, share a post on your Facebook page, stumble upon it, pin it or whatever social media outlet you prefer—just do it!

Don’t forget to visit the other #InspireMeMonday host site: www.anitaojeda.com

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Karma or Grace

Which do we give? Which do we deserve?

The idea that we get what we deserve – Karma.

Many of us know popular phrases regarding Karma in our lives, even if it’s not our belief system.  A few of us have wished Karma to happen to those around us.  One or two of us have had our choices come back around and bite us.  Karma seems to be the Hindu and Buddhist version (with a twist) of the Christian Golden Rule: do to others as you would have them do to you.

 It has to do with the consequences of our actions.

Today my eighth grade students, their parents and I, held a yard sale event in order to raise money for their class trip and graduation.  It’s been a work-in-progress for weeks. It’s not a small job, but it is a way to earn money.

Christianity says: Do as Christ did – not as we deserve, but as we’d like

One lady came to our sale and it appeared she might not have a lot of money – her simple clothing, her self-styled hair and her careful shopping all gave us clues.  After selecting with deliberation, she approached to pay for her $4.50 purchase.  She handed me five dollars and told me to keep the change. “It’s for the kids!” she spoke with a sweet and loving smile.  She spotted the brownies the students and I had baked and asked the price.

“Fifty cents,” I replied.

She immediately dug into her purse with a mischievous grin.  “I must have one – after all I need energy to walk home.”

The mom helping me waved her aside, “No!  You already paid an extra fifty cents – just take the brownie!”

Again that kind smile,

“No.  No, it’s for the kids.”

And she bid us an all-encompassing goodbye, wishing the students a wonderful class trip.

Meanwhile, a much younger lady plowed through the clothes, tossing garments one way and then the other.  She had removed her own shirt to try on several others, leaving herself in a black camisole.  Her boyfriend (I’m assuming, I don’t actually know) backed away, walked around nonchalantly for quite some time and then got in his car and drove away, leaving her to toss clothing at will.

I watched her off and on, because her manner was abrupt, slightly rude and a little shifty.  She had darkly dyed hair and spackled on make-up and when someone reached for a shirt, she grabbed it and examined it carefully.  It was odd – it’s a yard sale for goodness sake.

Friendly conversation flowed around her and it was well-established, among those shopping, that this yard sale benefited these hard-at-work students.

A customer asked me a question and as I drifted off to assist him I lost sight of the black camisole.  When I looked up, she was no longer at the table.  I guess it’s a teacher thing, because my eyes automatically scanned the area and spotted her, with many clothing items over her arms, trotting around the back corner of the building and out of sight.  I heard a car engine rev and saw the boyfriend’s car zoom onto the street and away.

The moms and I muttered about people stealing form the kids and felt a little miffed at her behavior.  Frankly, we were dealing with donations and we were cutting deals like crazy – it’s what you do at a yard sale.  Had she asked, we would have sold her those items for very little – but because she didn’t ask, we were indignant at the theft.

One of the helpers sifted through clothing, folding and straightening.  Suddenly she let out a little guffaw and held up a bright pink phone.  She opened the phone and yes, karma is real.  The lady who stole the clothing had left her phone behind – unlocked, so we could easily verify whose pictures it featured.

The karma gets better.

Shortly after, two police cars pulled up.  The officers got out and sauntered over to take their coffee break, buying the baked goods and drinks from the kids in order to offer their support to our cause.  The mom took their business card handed them the phone.

For some reason (and maybe this is not a proud moment) it gave us all a little moment of glee that this lady had stolen $7 worth of clothing (maybe) and had left her smart phone.

In all honesty – haven’t you had those moments? Gleeful moments where someone who treated you so rudely at work is the one to get in trouble with the boss?  Self-righteous moments where you saw someone shop-lift and watched security pick them up?  Have you seen those videos where the car that cuts off the semi-truck get bumped into the ditch?  It makes my students giggle, how about you?

But sometimes they’re not little moments.  Sometimes it’s not glee, but revenge that might burn in the heart.  That jerk who stole money gets busted.  Deserved.  That embezzler who loses it all.  Asked for it.  That bully who gets put-down and reviled.  Karma.

I remember when a cancer diagnosis went with a little shake-of-the-head and a sigh, “Well, he smoked all his life.”  I’ve seen people murmur at an accident scene, “Drunk – she had it coming.”

So Karma fights with “Do unto others as you would have them do to you.”

We must train ourselves not to hope the revenge happens. Instead of dealing out reactions to other’s choices, we must choose to treat as we would want to be treated, not as they deserve.  Why?

As Christians, we have not received Karma – we are not forced to receive what we deserve. “ALL have sinned and come short of the glory of God.”  Sin has separated us forever from a God of love and light.  But our God does not deal in Karma, He deals in grace.

 

He took our #Karma and dealt us #grace. #inspirememonday Click To Tweet

Inspire Me Monday Instructions

What’s your inspirational story? Link up below, and don’t forget the 1-2-3s of building community:

1. Link up your favorite posts from last week!

2. Visit TWO other contributors (especially the person who linked up right before you) and leave an encouraging comment.

3. Spread the cheer THREE ways! Tweet something from a post you read, share a post on your Facebook page, stumble upon it, pin it or whatever social media outlet you prefer—just do it!

Don’t forget to visit the other #InspireMeMonday host site: www.anitaojeda.com

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The Unrecognized Toll of Caregiving on the Caregiver

Family Caregivers Put Their Own Health at Risk

tollWhat Don’t Know CAN Hurt You (or Someone You Love)

When Pedro received a cancer diagnosis, I automatically jumped in and took over the role of primary caregiver.  I had no idea that people called what I did ‘caregiving.’ Before his diagnosis, I blythly assumed that when someone gets seriously ill, the doctors and nurses take care of everything. Wrong.

I soon learned that Pedro not only needed the kind of care that doctors and nurses and hospitals provided, he needed companionship in the hospital, help organizing his meds, and eventually, help walking, sitting, and standing. But of course, I kept right on helping, wihout any thought of what might happen to ME (who thinks of that in the middle of a crisis, anyway?).

Weight gain (mine) during his illness and depression (mine) during his recovery helped me realize that caregiving takes a toll. Since we hadn’t yet reached 40 when he received his diagnosis, we hadn’t had any of those important conversations that involve the unthinkable questions that start with ‘What if?’

The Toll of Caregiving on the Caregiver

Guest contributor Samantha Stein cautions caregivers to think ahead of time about things like long-term care insurance:

Society has dubbed family caregivers as the unsung heroes of long-term care. And if we think about it, the given moniker is rightfully so. After all, they have done enough and beyond to earn it. These individuals dedicate themselves to provide the support and care that their loved ones and family members need. When the dust settles, they are often left to face their own health issues and financial challenges with limited resources.”

According to Stein, “Caregivers are among those who should get long-term care insurance. The costs of care in the United States can deliver a devastating blow, and these individuals need all the help and protection they can get.” She graciously provided this infographic for you to read, think about, and share. We need to educate others about the true costs of caregiving.

We need to educate others about the true toll of #caregiving. Click To Tweet

The toll of #caregiving is higher than you think.

Guest Contributor

Samantha Stein, an online content manager for ALTCP.org. Her works focus on key information on long term care insurance, financial planning, elder care, and retirement. In line with the organization’s goal, Samantha’s work highlights the importance of having a good long term care plan, which includes requesting a long term care insurance quote to securing comprehensive coverage.

 

Inspire Me Monday Instructions

What’s your inspirational story? Link up below, and don’t forget the 1-2-3s of building community:

1. Link up your favorite posts from last week!

2. Visit TWO other contributors (especially the person who linked up right before you) and leave an encouraging comment.

3. Spread the cheer THREE ways! Tweet something from a post you read, share a post on your Facebook page, stumble upon it, pin it or whatever social media outlet you prefer—just do it!

Don’t forget to visit the other #InspireMeMonday host site: www.anitaojeda.com

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What You don’t Know About Breathing Can Really Hurt You

breathingLosing My Ability to Breathe

Somewhere, between diagnosis and deliverance, I forgot how to breathe. I find myself, at odd moments, holding my breath, not in anticipation or fright, but simply because I have forgotten the rhythm of breathing.

I didn’t even know about my loss until I started experiencing horrible, unexplainable pain in the middle of my chest that isn’t a heart problem (checked that), isn’t a nerve problem (checked that too), or even a lung problem (checked the bellows out and they’re fine).

“You’re as healthy as a person half your age,” the cardiologist told me. If that’s true, why does it hurt to breathe or have my heart beat strong and deep?  Why does my left side swell up?  It hurts to lie down, or stand up?  Why does it happen over and over again?

“Your breathing function is normal,” the internist told me. “In fact, your lung capacity is superior.”  Than why does it hurt to breathe?  Why can’t I take a deep breath without agony?  Walking up stairs is a cruel form of torture.

“Have you ever considered acupuncture?” my family practitioner asked me. Really?  Alternative therapy?  I couldn’t believe a physician was suggestion alternative therapy.

“Well, I do go to a chiropractor and a massage therapist,” I admitted.

“Does it help?” she asked.

“I’m not sure.”  I shrugged. “Sometimes it helps the pain go away if I go in early, sometimes it doesn’t. My massage therapist claims that I have incredibly tight muscles on my left side. It takes her an hour to work through the knots.”

A Different Kind of Specialist

“Do you know how to breathe?” my neighbor and friend asked me. She’s a life coach, and helps people with chronic pain—she’s also a person in chronic pain. “I can teach you how to breathe.”  I reluctantly agreed to go over to her house after work one evening (after my second job–I much rather would have been in bed).

“It’s called diaphragmatic breathing,” she told me. “Put your hand right below your rib cage and try to push your hand out when you breathe.”  I felt silly, but I tried it. “When you breathe shallowly, you decrease your body’s ability handle pain.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”  She launched into the technical reasons why shallow breathing keeps a person from processing pain and releasing endorphins that help the body take care of pain. I thanked her and wandered out of her house, hand on stomach, practicing my breathing while thinking of breathing in general.

Over the next few weeks, while I waited for my pain to go away, I caught myself not breathing. The computer didn’t load fast enough—I clenched my teeth and my breathing ceased its regular, steady rhythm. Three family members with perfectly good hands and arms and backs failed to put their own dishes in the dishwasher—how hard can it be to bend slightly and put a dish in the dishwasher?  I got cut off on the highway—have they stopped giving driving tests?!  Ooops!  My teeth were clenched and I had been holding my breath for who-knows-how-long.

Caregiver, Beware Your Breathing

Somewhere, between diagnosis and deliverance, I had started holding my breath—in fright, in anticipation of the next piece of bad news, in mental pain and agony, in emotional stress. No one ever warned me that a side effect of all that stress would be a loss of breathing. In fact, no one warned me about any of the side effects of a cancer diagnosis. Slowly, every so slowly, I’m putting a name on them and dealing with them. For now, I’ll start with breathing lessons.

 

Inspire Me Monday Instructions

What’s your inspirational story? Link up below, and don’t forget the 1-2-3s of building community:

1. Link up your favorite posts from last week!

2. Visit TWO other contributors (especially the person who linked up right before you) and leave an encouraging comment.

3. Spread the cheer THREE ways! Tweet something from a post you read, share a post on your Facebook page, stumble upon it, pin it or whatever social media outlet you prefer—just do it!

Don’t forget to visit the other #InspireMeMonday host site: www.anitaojeda.com

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The Nature of the Beast

Life Gets Crazy

“It’s the nature of the beast,” I wrote to Anita in one of our many chats:  things pile up in the worst possible ways.

The end of the quarter looms a week away – grades are due, finals given, frantic make-up assignments might possibly be turned in by desperate students and/or more anxious parents.  The yearbook, one of my advisory duties, is due tomorrow – ads need to be polished, pages reviewed, lists double and triple-checked, pictures counted and words edited.  I might have a child that is not wanting to turn in (let alone DO) his homework (it’s stupid, you know) – assignment sheets must be checked, projects supervised and motivation offered.  I’m the sponsor of the 8th Grade class – graduation must be planned, tributes written, gowns and flowers ordered and class trips planned.  It’s spring – students shrug off assignments previously easily completed, drama happens from the slightest thing, and end of the year projects and trips are suddenly imminent.  I’m a writer – I need to meet deadlines, post blogs, write stories and put thoughts into order.

Besides being simply a long list, we have to complete everything well, correctly, on-time and with a smile on our faces.  Is that even possible?

It’s the nature of the beast that when life gets crazy in one area, it’s a certainty that it’ll spin out of control like the Gravity Max, Full Throttle or Sky Scream (great names for crazy roller coasters found at www.coasterguy.wordpress.com 

It’s the nature of the beast – life runs out of control like a crazy roller coaster!
(credit to coasterguy.wordpress.com for great pic)

This is all true for caregiving and parenthood, teaching and doctoring, musicians and authors.  Life gets crazy.  It zooms up and down and then flies around in circles, forwards and backwards.  Events spin upside down and right-side up so fast it’s hard to tell which way is actually correct!

Just like a roller-coaster, once locked in, we have to finish the ride!  Getting off is not really an option.

So what do I do?  My heart rate increases while my sleep decreases.  My worry rises as my exercise takes a back-seat to deadlines.  The pile-up can drive me crazy!

Or.

I can take one thing at a time.  Make a list.  Ask for help.  Communicate my needs.  Scream as needed.  Laugh often. I can hang on while realizing that the ride will end.  Everyone might not be glad they were on the ride, but lessons will be learned, goals accomplished, and relationships cemented.

It’s the nature of the beast.  Life gets crazy.  Hang on, scream, laugh and enjoy the ride.

It’s the nature of the beast. Life gets crazy. Hang on, scream, laugh and enjoy the ride.… Click To Tweet

 

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What’s your inspirational story? Link up below, and don’t forget the 1-2-3s of building community:

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