Before We Go On
A few months ago, I mentioned that I received healing in big ways and I promised that I would share more details on the specifics.
Over a month ago I wrote a blog post detailing my physical healing, but in usual Johnson fashion, my health has changed since writing this post.
I’m still rejoicing and embracing the healing that I have received and want y’all to join in on the miracle that is my healing. I also don’t want y’all to be surprised when I share an update in the future on the search for answers regarding some new ailments.
I’ve always believed that healing is in God’s hands and in His timing, so I humbly and happily accept whatever the Lord blesses me with and patiently await the day when I will be fully healed.
This week we rejoice in the miracle I received, and as I know more about the new stuff I will update y’all. Until then, here is “the new Brooke.”
Physically Healed
3 months ago, I was physically healed in ways that I honestly never thought would be possible for me this side of heaven. I’ve struggled to process it and talk about it.
All of my doctors each want to take responsibility for the physical healing. While I give them all the credit in the world for helping sustain me and keep me alive, the healing was not their doing.
Nothing medically changed in-between June and July. Matter of fact, I was declining, and the doctors were scrambling to understand and help.
In the middle of the uncertainty, I received physical healing.
A Chaotic Summer
You might already know this, but in May of this past year, I almost died. My port-a-cath in my chest had become severely infected and had sent infection coursing through my whole bloodstream.
After the infection was taken care of and I returned home from the hospital my normal medical care team sprang into action. The only problem was that my medical care team consists of around 20 physicians…meaning that 20 physicians wanted to see me and then order 3 or more of their own tests.
June was chaos for me. I was overwhelmed. My doctors were overwhelmed. My pharmacy was overwhelmed. My car racked up miles. I received more radiation than I should have. I was poked hundreds of times. I started memorizing what my nurses ate for lunch every week. Doctor’s offices knew who I was before I even stated my name on the phone. By the end of June, I had been to 40 appointments. It was all too much.
At the beginning of July, I convinced myself that things were going to get better. But, the offices kept calling, appointments kept getting scheduled, and by the end of the first week, I had already been to 7 appointments.
My Breaking Point
Somewhere in the middle of appointments, I was finding the time to have my Jesus time. It was somewhere towards the end of June and the beginning of July that I had this strong confidence that God was about to move a mountain in my life. I’ve never experienced anything like that feeling, it didn’t even feel like a promise…it was so real as if it had already happened and I just hadn’t realized what mountain had moved.
A couple of weeks into me waiting for God to reveal what He had done my dad told me that he didn’t know what or how, but he believed that something big was about to happen in my life.
A week after my dad had shared what God had been laying on his heart, and 3 weeks after I had initially felt an unknown mountain move in my life, I crashed…emotionally, physically, and spiritually.
My new port was causing me extreme pain, and no one could tell me why. The port itself was working perfectly normal, making it even more of a struggle to gain answers.
With no port access, I had to go into the clinic every other day for IV fluids. The scripts were wrong meaning my infusions were lasting 4-hours, and insurance was fighting, so one day I waited 4 hours before they even started my 4-hour infusion.
My veins have accumulated scar tissue over the years, making placing an IV very difficult. They were having to poke and dig for an IV on average 5-8 times per infusion.
Then, they decided to start me on IV chemotherapy. After searching my arms for viable veins the nurse wanted to use my port because my veins had too much scar tissue. Would you believe me if I told you that the IV tubing broke off before they were finished and they had to pull the 2-inch needle out of my chest and stab me with another 2-inch needle…right where they had just poked me? Would you believe me if I told you that the nurse missed my port and had to poke me a third time?
Normally, accessing a port can be uncomfortable, but remember that I said mine was acting up? Turns out my port was buried in a bundle of nerves and every time they had to use my port it was as if they were sticking a knife into an electrical socket.
Mountain Moved
I got into my car after receiving my chemotherapy and after being poked all day, and I called my doctor for some advice. When I got home my doctor called me back to inform me that I didn’t have any more options. It was either my painful port or no more infusions. My doctor was very aware that my infusions had been the reason I had not been passing out daily for the last 3 years. Even in May, he had to increase my frequency, because my symptoms had become problematic. Before starting IV fluids I had been passing out daily and ending up in the emergency room multiple times a week. Life without IV fluids meant having no life.
The tears started before I was even off the phone. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t walk. I fell on my knees in my room and I gasped for air in-between the sobs. I said, “God, where are you?” My soul knew His response, “I am here.” I actually looked around my room to see if I saw Him because it seemed like if God was ever going to appear before my eyes, then this was the moment. I didn’t see Him with my eyes, but I knew with my whole being that He was there. Acknowledging His presence, through my sobs I realized and verbalized, “I’m done.” I felt Him say, “I know.”
Something broke within me while I was on my knees and a freedom was released…a healing was released.
The next morning, I felt a freedom that I had never felt before. It was like I was breathing and living for the first time. The whole world was in color and at my fingertips for the first time ever. I drove to my infusion and I knew it was the last time.
July 17th, 2020 I received my last scheduled IV hydration. On August 14th, 2020 I had my port-a-cath removed. Since July 17th I’ve had only 22 appointments. (That’s less than 8 appointments a month, for those keeping track)
The doctors can’t explain how my body went from surviving off of daily IV fluids to completely coming off of fluids, but I know a mountain mover who might know a thing or two about it. Life without a port means for the first time in 3 years I can shower whenever I want, swim whenever I want, and no infusions mean I have at least 15 hours a week back for me to decide how I spend them. No port means I don’t have to worry about getting another blood infection. No more arguing with insurance. No more daily pokes. Healing came for me and we are all in awe.
Walking in Freedom
Not only did a physical healing take place, but chains were broken within my heart and mind. God reminded me that when it comes to my health, my body, and my mind I have the power to say no and walk away.
I still have Ehlers-Danlos and as long as I have EDS my body will be filled with issues, but I’m done letting the medical world convince me that “knowledge is power.”
Don’t get me wrong I would love to end the 6-year debate of whether or not I truly have Crohn’s disease, but do you know how many tests and procedures I’ve had in the last 6 years in hopes of ending the debate? At least 40. And, people GI tests are some of the worst.
Do you know what happened when I felt the freedom to question my doctor on what would happen if the debate was finalized? He told me that nothing would happen! My treatment would stay the same and my future monitoring would stay the same!
So, guess what I told him in August? “I’m done.” The funny part was that he then preceded to tell me that I looked the best he had ever seen me and he thought I was making the best decision.
So, instead of seeing him every month, I will see him in 6 months. I’m still getting chemotherapy every 8 weeks and I believe that God is using that as a means to continue to heal my body. I’m still getting regular allergy shots, Botox for my migraines, physical therapy, and I continue to take a bunch of medicines every day. But, every single person that sees me says the same thing, “You look like a different person!”
God didn’t take all my sicknesses away, but He moved a giant mountain in my life that was consuming me. I am a different person, physically and mentally, this is a new brooke.
“Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed; save me, and I shall be saved, for you are my praise.”
Jeremiah 17:14
“I will extol the Lord at all times; His praise will always be on my lips. My soul will boast in the Lord; let the afflicted hear and rejoice.”
Psalm 34:1-2
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