At this point in my journey, I was completely and utterly drained, besides my own health predicament mom had just found out that her second fistula (the thing that we need to work in order for her to get plasmapheresis and stay out of crisis) had failed, my Grandmom who had come all the way from Virginia to help take care of me post-op had fallen at our house and broken her hip and other struggles seemed to continue to pound on the ones I love.
Sunday, November 24th I woke up with feelings so strong, but they weren’t good ones…I was overwhelmed, drained, confused, hopeless, dreamless and desperate. I woke up that Sunday morning and said “I can’t do another day of this. I don’t know how I am going to make it through today.” That afternoon, without any knowledge of my state of mind, some of my church family didn’t ask, they just showed up to my hospital room with a guitar in hand, prayers on their minds and in their hearts, and truth and hope to pour over me and over my hospital room. They poured into my room with their presence, with their love, with their encouragement, with their strength, with their faith, with their hugs, with their songs of praise and with the presence of my healer, my savior, my warrior, my best friend, and my father. I hadn’t lost the name of Jesus, but I had lost the power behind the name of Jesus and I needed to be reminded that even as I was resting my church family, literally all over the world was fighting the battle with me.
It’s no coincidence that the same day that I was reminded who was really in charge, that my hospitalist walked into my room and said, “I know that we have the feeding tube placement scheduled for tomorrow morning, but I want to start you on steroids.” When I asked him the reasoning, he couldn’t tell me, he said he just felt like we needed to try it and for some reason, I stopped asking questions and I felt like we needed to try it too. I took my first dose on Sunday and when I woke up Monday morning, I didn’t feel the need to throw-up. I asked to delay the feeding tube placement. By dinner time, what my family was eating didn’t look as nauseating. Tuesday morning, I woke up and ate a few bites, for the first time in weeks. By Tuesday afternoon I had negotiated my way into being released from the hospital.
Y’all that was November 26th and praise the Lord, I have not been readmitted since! I stayed on steroids until January 7th. I was able to not only be with my family for Thanksgiving, but I was able to eat some turkey and fixings. Mom was released around the same time I was, and it was a true Christmas miracle at the Johnson household to have everyone home for the month of December and to celebrate Christmas and ring in the new year away from hospitals.
We celebrate the victories, the miracles, the healing, the wisdom, the time and all the other many blessings that God has given us in the last 6 months, but we don’t turn a blind eye away from the struggles that we still face.
The success of steroids means that something inflammatory is going on within my GI tract, most likely Inflammatory Bowel Disorder. As my doctors work together to form a plan of treatment many of my symptoms persist. My back hurts 24/7, but I have finally been able to start outpatient physical therapy and I can already see improvement. Many of my other health issues have flared up and we are taking it one day at a time.
Mom is a trooper. She’s gone through more than anyone I’ve ever met. She got bronchitis at the first of January and was hospitalized on January 6th.
January 7th she had surgery to place a tunneled catheter in her chest. January 8th she had surgery to place another type of fistula. She’s had a rough go of it, since surgery, her body has been through a lot. She received 6 days of plasmapheresis that hospitalization and was released on January 14th. Due to different blood clots within her body, specifically her jugular, the healing process is very painful and complicated. Mom was readmitted on February 19th for 6 days. In the last month we have been informed of more complications regarding mom’s health and the list often feels never-ending.
But, y’all I’m coming out of hiding and plugging back in because it’s been made very clear to me in the last couple of months that there are times in your life when you can’t walk life alone, there are times when you are so weak that you barely have the strength to utter the name “Jesus” let alone find the words to pray. When the doctors and the world seem to be giving you nothing but hopelessness, you need to surround yourself with truth, with hope and with people who can hold your arms up when you feel like you can’t do it anymore.
So, for those of you that have surrounded my family in prayer I want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart, it’s not just a cliché response, it’s all I have to give is my thanks. I know my mom would not be sitting beside me right now if you hadn’t prayed that prayer and I know that I would not have the strength to keep showing up to the battle if it wasn’t for my church family. Thank you for not leaving us alone in this battle. Your faith, your prayers, your dreams for me, your love for me…I feel it and I know that God is working in this broken mess and I know He will lead us to victory on the other side of this fight.
Leave a comment