Nobody's #1

Let me start by announcing that I detest politics. I don't think there's any one side that has it right, and to try to force faith to fit into the box of one party is impossible. So, for what I'm about to say, know that I'm not picking a side.

This week has been an incredibly long one. Though, I say that with a bit of hesitation, as I recall the kind of weeks my wife and I were having just about two years ago, as she underwent chemotherapy for her cancer. Those weeks had no beginning or end. Time stood still, and there was no "weekend" in sight.

But this was a long week.

A little history:

Last Friday - Sarah had an infection near the cuticle on her right middle finger. She went to the Immediate Care Center, and they prescribed some medicine. Problem solved. (heh heh...)

Monday - I fractured my small finger on the right hand, and lacerated the skin and the nail. So I go to the same Immediate Care Center, get treated, X-rayed, and told to visit a hand surgeon to see what needs to be done regarding the damage. All on the evening of my mother-in-law's birthday party.

Tuesday - Went to see a hand doctor, who basically charged me a $50 co-pay (and who knows how much he charged insurance) to look at my finger, tell me it's fine and not broken, and put a band-aid on it. That evening, Sarah started getting feverish.

Wednesday - Sarah has a full-blown fever. 100+ for someone who runs in the 97s. I have a follow-up to have my finger re-bandaged, and am told that Radiology has reviewed my X-rays and confirms there IS a fracture. Their main concern is an open wound with a broken bone and the infection that can set in...especially with diabetics.

Thursday - Sarah's fever persists, and seems to be getting worse, despite the fact that she's showing no outward symptoms of illness (flu or the like.) She makes contact again with the Immediate Care Center, who says that she may be having an allergic reaction to the medicine they had prescribed on Friday. They tell her to stop taking it. Sarah also visits our family practice, where they do very little to help.

Friday - Sarah's fever continues, and now she's starting to have a rash. Revisits the Immediate Care Center, where they worry that part of the rash is actually a Staph infection. Her white blood cell count and her platelet counts are both low. (For anyone who has battled or dealt with cancer, you know the worries that come from reports of "abnormal blood work.") They send her to the Emergency Room....

STILL Friday - Sarah received IV fluids and test results show she's probably fine, and that she probably was having a reaction to the medication, and not a staph infection. After being in the ER for about 2.5 hours, they release her. As I write this, it's Friday evening, and she's resting, but still fighting a low-grade fever. And, she'll have to have more blood work on Saturday to see if things are any better. If levels stay where they were, she'll have to do a follow-up on Monday with the oncologist. All is probably fine regarding that aspect....but it always lingers in the shadows of the mind.

So you ask how in the world any of that has anything to do with politics, and my lack of interest in parties and policies?

In this:

I am thankful that I have medical insurance. Despite a few hundred dollars we've had to pay this week for co-pays, we were able to get quality care and treatment for our problems and have insurance pay for it.

Not everyone has insurance. Not everyone could have gone into an immediate care center or an emergency room for a fever, or a crushed finger. I recognize that I am blessed that I have that freedom and option. And, I wish everyone had such an option.

But, more importantly, this...

Two weeks ago, the poorest country in the western world was leveled by an earthquake. And, due to poverty, lack of structure, lack of supplies, and lack of organization to remedy these issues, people are dying from fractures and open wounds...from infections...from the inability to see a medical doctor for what should be an easy remedy.

Children are having their legs, arms, feet, hands amputated because they don't have the medical supplies needed to save them from infection.

They're amputating without anesthesia.

A generation of people died in the earthquake. And they have left behind a generation of amputees, and orphans.

The types of "small" inconveniences my wife and I experienced this week are nothing in comparison. We would never think that our minor injuries would possibly lead to our deaths. Yet, that's exactly what is happening in Haiti.

I'm not saying we should be passing the health reform bill. I'm not saying we shouldn't. I'm not saying that we're not doing enough in Haiti. And, I'm not saying that we are. I don't know that government plans are the answer, but I know that apathy isn't.

Where are the Samaritans? Who is my neighbor? If I'm to believe what is written in scripture, I'd say the my neighbor is the woman I'm friends with who has no job and can't afford a checkup. I'd say it's the 7-year-old child in Jacmel who could have his leg saved if the medical staff were able to buy or receive the right tools.

Is this "Good Sam" parable a story of a person who, despite cultural differences, helped out a man in need; teaching us that even our enemy is our neighbor? Or, is it a story that teaches us that we are to care for the beaten, the bruised, and for the ones who can't take care of or provide for their own medical treatment? Or is it both?

The Samaritan man cleaned the injured man up. Then he took him to a medical clinic and paid for his healthcare. He gave another man health benefits on his dime.

'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary...

It's been a long week. And I'm tired. We all are. But, I am also strengthened tonight by the love of friends and family. As each of these milestones unfolded this week, I've posted them to Facebook. Without hesitation, some of the folks I consider my closest and dearest spoke up...flooding in with words of hope, encouragement, prayers and "whispers" of petition to carry us through.

I hope you know who you are... I certainly do, and my heart runs over with emotion when I think of you.

Pretty crazy stuff happening this week in Haiti. It's unfathomable to hear that some Haitian officials are predicting the death toll to top 100,000, and maybe reach as many as 200,000.

I heard someone on the radio today that really pointed out the key to all of this. He said,

"The earthquake didn't kill these people. Poverty did."

And I tend to believe him. Haiti has, for a long time now, been the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. With a government that is in continuous upheaval, a land that has been stripped of its natural resources, and an infrastructure that is held together by mud and sticks, the situation was primed for such a devastating event.

The recovery is underway, but now some four days after this event, unrest is building. Starvation and dehydration are becoming the greater problems. Supplies are bottlenecked, and people are going from thankful for having survived to once again fighting for their lives.

My wife and I, just in the past few months, had been considering and praying about the possibility of adopting from Haiti. We had made contact with an agency in the country. The doors weren't open yet for us, but now, part of me wonders if "our children" are safe?

If you haven't given, but can, please don't wait. There are many good organizations you can donate to.

If you can't give, then pray for the people. Pray for the children. Pray for the rescue efforts still underway. Pray for those that need healing, those that need help, and those that need hope.

I certainly am.

I haven't written in quite a while, and I don't know really why I decided to pick it back up tonight. After all, this is probably a bad time to be writing. I'm frustrated, angry, worried, completely stressed out, and for all purposes...spent.

Yet, I also recognize that it's typically in these moments -- moments in which I can't tell up from down -- that the deepest creativity and truest truths come peeking up through the fog. In the middle of the night, when the world rests; when my wife, my son, and our three dogs all are curled up under warm blankets; when all is still; that is when my mind and my heart and my soul begin to reach out for that "thing" --that mystical moment when truth is revealed--as if God himself was waiting to deliver a message and was just waiting until I was alone.

I guess that's why I'm writing. I'm lost.

Is this a test? Is it a "season" of life? Is it something altogether different? Why is it that I find myself in a state of limbo? Am I a failure? Am I about to experience some major setback? Punishment?

These are my questions. And, there's no seemingly clear answer or direction.

...I'm taking a ride on a wing and a prayer...

So this is my statement...my call...my announcement to the world, to anyone who cares to read it, and to God:

I'll take that ride on a prayer. I'm tired of limbo. I am tired of "okay." I'm tired of holding back the desire in my heart to do more. No more feeble and meager steps of faith. I'm ready to leap, to dive, to jump. No more conservative-ness in faith, life, or love.

...follow me there. We'll both be surprised.

Yup. We sure seem to be in 'em. Or, at least, I hope so. 

It's hard to believe it, but one year ago today (April 21) was Sarah's final chemo treatment. It wasn't, of course, the last day she had to deal with the side effects--but it was the last time she had to have a bag of the "agent orange" ported into her abdomen.

There are days--like today--that I can only refer to 2008 as a "blur." It was all too surreal, as if being thrown into a play where you're a main character, but you haven't a clue as to what to say or do. An uneasy sense of being "lost" in your own life. Time standing still. No sense of beginning or end.

To recognize what she went through, and then to see her today...healthy, alive, strong, happy....it's almost to much to take in.

But sometimes the worry and fear remain. When I read about an old schoolmate who is currently undergoing chemotherapy for the second or third time....when I hear stories of church acquaintances who have been diagnosed...or when I just happen to pass by a billboard that talks about cancer...in those instances, I'm reminded.

It touched us. It changed our lives. It stole things. And, it always lurks.

No, I don't think about it all the time, but I do think about it from time to time. There's always a twinge of worry. There's always that "what if" scenario that plays in my head.

And it isn't nice.

Yet, for this day, as much as I can, I focus on what is good. God has remained faithful to us, providing Sarah with healing, and health. She is in remission. And, other than her now-curly hair, she shows no outward indication that she underwent the hellish events of last year.

And that's what I'll remember today.

I've started this blog several times over the past three months. Yet, every time, it seems I get too deep into one area, and I wind up wearing myself out trying to complete it.

So, in this attempt..I'm going to keep it "short," and simply try to boil the major events down to bullet points. (We'll see how this goes....)

December 2008
- Went to FIVE (5) Over the Rhine concerts. Two in Louisville, the two 20th Anniversary shows at the Taft Theater in Cinci, and the "Sunday Soiree" at St. E's in Norwood, OH.

The biggest highlight was at the Louisville Bomhard show. I was able to convince Sarah to come to her first OtR show...and thanks to the great help of some friends and connections, I was able to get a note to the band about her struggle with cancer this past year. That evening, they dedicated the ENTIRE SHOW to her. What an honor and surprise. Quite the highlight.

- The afore-mentioned cancer battle: December marked the one year point since Sarah was diagnosed. It was such a great thing to be able to spend Christmas celebrating life and love and the holidays with family. Christmas 2007 was a lot different. Sarah was at home, preparing for major surgery the next day. This year, we spent it opening presents, laughing with family, and recognizing the "reason for the season."

January 2009

Just as we thought we were heading into a new year of life beyond struggles (boy, I was foolishly optimistic!)...the marketing department of my company was ELIMINATED on January 5. That, of course, includes me. Now, two months later, I'm still looking for something. The market for marketing and graphic design is pretty sparce at this point. We've still had decent finances, and we know our "daily bread" is taken care of...but I'm tired of being unemployed. I'm ready for something new.

My hope/dream/prayer is that this is God's plan to open doors for me to begin a new career in music/worship ministry. It truly is my heart's desire, and my long-term goal to do such a thing.

Before our pre-paid benefits ran out at work, I went to the eye doctor and got a couple new pairs of specs....while at the appointment, the eye doctor noticed some issues related to long-term effects from having diabetes. That led to...

February 2009

As a result of what that doctor saw, he wanted me to follow up with Bennett & Bloom eye centers, and a opthamologist who specializes in diabetic retinopathy.

(have you noticed I've fallen away from my "bullet point" plans?...)

Turns out I have what's called "Proliferative Diabetic Retinopathy." I have it in both eyes, but the right eye was more noticable.

What is PDR? Basically, diabetics have issues over years where the blood vessels can't provide the oxygen/blood supply to the eye that it needs. As a result, the eye generates new vessels (capillaries) to overcome this. Sounds like a great plan, except these vessels are VERY fragile. They are prone to hemorrhaging and bleeding into the eye. This can lead to scarring around the retina, or retinal separation...a.k.a. blindness.

To prevent this, the eye surgeon uses a laser to "zap" the back of the eye several hundred times to stop the continued growth of these vessels.

So, my right eye got zapped on March 2...so I'll cover that in a minute...we're still in February, which included...

- Me turning 31, and Sarah turning 29.

Okay, on to...

March 2009

Not much yet, but two significant things.

- The eye surgery. I actually went in thinking they were doing both eyes. But the doctor said the right eye was the only one he wanted to do for now. The surgery only took about 30 minutes, and it was mildly painful at times.

The problem now, a little over 24 hours after the surgery, is that everything is now VERY BLURRY in my right eye. I don't know yet if this is a temporary or permanent thing. I hope it's just the eye healing and such. But, it's ANNOYING.

As I sit here typing this, I realized that if I close my left/good eye, I have to (with my glasses on) put my face about four inches from the screen to read it. And, no, they can't give me a new prescription. This isn't the curvature of the eye that's changed...rather, the receptors in the back have been damaged. So, if this is permanent, there's really nothing to do to improve it. It'll always be this way.

I'm thinking of getting a pirate's eye patch. Arrgh!

But, all that said...my greatest news of March 2009 so far...

As of March 3...Sarah's cancer is officially IN REMISSION!!! Yay!

I was telling a couple people today...I know it's just a word, but oh, what a powerful word it is...it's a reason to celebrate, and we're going to.

And so, as I sit here, unemployed, with only one eye working correctly, and totally unsure of what tomorrow might bring...reflecting on Sarah's good news reminds me...

We went through hell last year. Sarah more than me...but we made it. With God's power, our family's love, our friends' support, and even with a few Apples along the way.

And so, in 2009... We're gonna pull through.