Wind

On Wednesday night I stood in the mountains with my sweet sister in Christ, Carla.  We were at the peak of our forest service loop, where we have stopped at least 100 times before, stopped to pray (and to allow me to catch my breath).    It was almost 8 pm which is later than we usually walk, but we had picked the time to walk later in the day so that I could have a chance to make it through the walk without the intense sunlight bearing down on me.  I usually love the sun, but since getting Covid just about 3 weeks ago, direct sunlight has induced a horrible headache and profound nausea.  So we set out later in the day, a plan made earlier that morning.  I had almost cancelled the walk after seeing intense swelling in Kit’s leg at dinner time.  My heart sank at the sight, knowing that he was very likely dealing with another blood clot in his leg, just like the one he had after our wreck in 2017.  Since I couldn’t be with him in the ER as this is 2021 and Covid has changed the rules of play in healthcare for a while, I went ahead with the plan to walk and pray with Carla, and sent him on ahead to Billings for evaluation at the ER.  

Two weeks before I was not certain my congestion wasn’t just residual from crying after saying goodbye to a dear friend as he lost his battle here on earth to colon cancer.  I had prayed over him as he died, and then cried my entire way home the night before.  But the cough that had kept me up for the whole night, coupled with horrible sinus congestion led me to “just rule out” Covid.  Which actually ruled it in, and 2 PCR tests later confirmed it:  I had become one of the lucky 5-10 out of 100 who can get infected with Covid after being vaccinated.   Initially I was really only irritated at being isolated from my sweet family during the onset of summer.  That coupled with complete lack of smell and taste kept me reluctantly limiting my normal activity levels and exercise.  But by five days into the infection, my oxygen levels were dropping dangerously low when I was walking.  You may wonder how I would even know that, but as a doctor I have all the fun toys here at the house, and had taken an oxygen meter along with me on my walk so I could monitor my vital signs.  About 100 yards from the house I was profoundly dizzy and had a severe headache and racing heart, and found my oxygen levels were only 80%. The next day was even worse, and after a 79% oxygen level with almost no real exertion, Kit took me to the emergency room in Billings for steroids and the available antibody infusion.  Oddly enough I could smell nothing when I went in that night, but as I left that night I could smell the heavenly lilac bushes.  Nowhere near close to baseline, but breathing easier, we returned home, and I continued to remain isolated from everyone else for the recommended 10 days. 

Not my finest moment

First day off quarantine took Jonathan for his second shot!

While isolated I slept a ton, read even more, and tried to manage some of my patient care responsibilities from home.  Thankfully my quarantine ended just before our friend’s life was celebrated.  David was a huge presence in life, and I was grateful to be able to honor him and remember him with others who knew and loved him.  We rescheduled Naomi’s high school graduation ceremony for a week later, and I was able to rest before her party last Sunday night.  Sweet, quaint, and quietly personal, her graduation party was a gift.  Some moments I cannot believe the joy in her face.  She still has such intensely difficult days, and yet she shines, and her future is filled with promise.  

Sweet Naomi and Jordan at her party.

 

Thankful for distractions for the kids while I was sick.

Once the kids were off quarantine they were happy to escape for fun with friends.

Summer has begun, Papa and boys off to the lake.

Monday I returned to work, and had to leave early as the hours had worn on, and my chest pressure had increased.  For about 6 days I had been feeling like a 20-30 pound toddler had been sitting on my chest.  Bending over would literally take my breath away, and the more I did the harder it was to breathe.  By Monday afternoon the pressure felt more like 40 pounds, and my chest x-ray showed some potential pneumonia.  One CT scan later showed only some mild airway collapse, and I went home to rest.  14 hours of sleep later I woke up and felt completely back to normal.  Which then led to a full day of wondering if I had only imagined how bad Covid made me feel.  Seeing patients was a relief from the dialogue in my head which vacillated  between, “You are simply crazy,” and “You just had Covid, what do you expect?”

At dinner on Tuesday night Naomi said she was feeling like she had a cold, and Jacob had been sneezing for most of the day.  Kit came in and said, “we may have a problem,” as he raised his shirt to reveal the rash he gets anytime he has a viral or bacterial infection.  Given that we had just had THE virus in our house, we planned on them going up to Billings on Wednesday morning for testing.  Yes, they are all fully vaccinated, but so had I been.  Thankfully their initial tests were all negative, but by Wednesday at lunch I was ready to find the exit for the roller coaster ride we had been on for 2 weeks.  Seriously.  I was pretty much at my limit.  Maybe even beyond that mark quite a good distance.  

Just as an aside, one of my least favorite highly repeated sentiments about God is “that He will never give you more than you can handle.”  Funny enough, the verse from which this idea has come reads that we will never be tempted beyond that which is common for all men.  I am here to tell you that in fact I have lived through seasons of life which are far beyond my ability to handle, and God has never been unfaithful to me.  He has never been pressed beyond His limits, and I find great comfort knowing that he will continue to be with me, no matter what.  Which I clung to like a life raft when my heart plummeted as I looked at Kit’s swollen leg.  Thankfully there are medications other than coumadin to prevent him from clotting again, but they do so by limiting his body’s ability to form clots which is also a protective gift should he ever find himself bleeding.  

Be aware of leg differences like this....it's not because of work out routines.

In any case, he needed to be evaluated, and I desperately needed time to pray.  So there we were, Carla with her bum hip, me with my post Covid heat/sun intolerance and emotionally frazzled thin and Kit 70 miles away, in an ER, waiting to hear the inevitable “you have another blood clot” which would mean lifetime anticoagulation and bleeding risks.  In the distance the pine was being lifted off the trees and carried in the wind, a sight to behold for sure; and one that I have marveled at in all these years living in Luther.  From our spot we could see the wind moving in the trees quite a way from us, but the air around us was completely still.   Eyes closed, arms raised high in the sky, Carla started to pray and was praising God for His absolute faithfulness.  She thanked him for the Holy Spirit, our comforter and counselor, and as the words came from her heart the wind began to dance around us.  From stillness to being completely swirled around in the most powerful wind we were aware of God’s presence.  The breeze would start to gently sway, and as we prayed and praised more would come.  Sincere hearts overflowed in that spot, and we both professed our trust in Abba.  With each sentence, with each uttered word, the wind continued to move around between us.  Ringo, our sweet furry walking buddy, sat attentively at our feet, all while we prayed, laughed from the delight of the moment and cried.  I stood there and told God that I would trust Him with my husband, as I have always, and knew He was with him.  

While we prayed, Kit was in Billings being greeted by the nurse who had taken care of both of us after our wreck.  She greeted him warmly and he felt assured.  He was known.  His ultrasound tech was the same woman who scanned his leg 4 years ago, and she remembered his gigantic clot then.  She was able to see the new one clearly.  His emergency room tech is a friend and she had been in the ER in Red Lodge the night we nearly died.  His nurse in the ER is a colleague and friend of mine, and Kit felt that he was being surrounded by those who would care for him as I would.  His doctor had been one of my teachers in residency, and is a very dear and respected colleague who loves Jesus.  If I could have picked his team that night, it would have been these people...and while I stood and prayed with Carla, God assured my heart that every detail for Kit was as it should be.  

My sweet Carla

When we stopped praying and opened our eyes, the wind immediately died down, and thankfully we were not covered in pine pollen (which would have created a totally different breathing issue for me from Covid as asthma is also my constant companion).  Ringo was up and away from us, as the moment was clearly drawn to completion.  There was a moment of complete awe and silence, as we both realized the power of that prayer.  God had visited us, surrounded us with the Holy Spirit, who had carried His voice to us in the wind.  About 30 minutes later I received the call from Kit confirming his clot and telling me he would be home soon.  And even with the reality that he will have to deal with lifelong anticoagulation and the uncertainty that can bring I was (and remain) anchored to God’s sufficiency.   

Writing tonight about the last 3 weeks, even the good parts, helps me to understand why I feel a bit like a microwaved salad.  I am tired today.  God is faithful, and He has no needs, but I do.  I have had to rest, more than I usually would.  I’m currently watching Kit in the kitchen, wearing compression socks, birkenstock sandals and shorts.  When did we actually get to be this old?  I am not sure, but I have been singing this song on repeat in my head, “Jireh, You are enough….”  I am thankful that God remains sufficient for all my needs.  

  

Going through a storm, but I won’t go down

I hear Your voice

Carried in the rhythm of the wind to call me out

You would cross an ocean, so I wouldn’t drown

You’ve never been closer than You are right now

You are Jireh, You are enough

Jireh, You are enough

And I will be content, in every circumstance

You are Jireh, You are enough

I don’t wanna forget how I feel right now

On the mountaintop

I can see so clear what it’s all about

So stay by my side when the sun goes down

Don’t wanna forget how I feel right now

-Jireh, Elevation Worship and Maverick City Music