Category: Gratitude Page 1 of 2

Safety Net

On 03/22/2024

In Beauty in the Storm (epilepsy), Gratitude, His Vast Strength (stroke)

I recently discovered that I don’t like safety nets. Here’s why: if I need one, it means I’ve fallen.

We learned in February that my husband’s employer decided to terminate him while on medical leave, when they gave him a 2-week notice (yes, it was technically legal). The earth dropped out from beneath me in an instant, and I lost my breath as I fell… hard.

How would we pay for our son’s very expensive epilepsy meds without health insurance?! Without the special exception I had worked for over a month to get on one of them in particular?

I cried for days trying to grasp what had just happened.

Two years ago, we had to mourn the new reality of my husband’s massive stroke. This year, we had to accept he just can’t work because of the stroke impairments. At least, we thought, we had the safety net of continued employer health insurance while on disability, for all of our health needs. For our son’s epilepsy meds.

But to have that pulled out from under us too?

For a week, I couldn’t sleep, with a continuous loop in my brain all night long of the things I needed to do but no idea where to start when daylight came. No ability to jumpstart a brain frozen with terror.

Several friends and resources kindly held me up and counseled, “Just take a step. Just do one thing to move forward.”

So I applied online to our state’s health insurance exchange site, just to start looking for options. My husband and I qualified for a plan but my son was denied – because he was automatically enrolled in Medicaid instead.

We also heard from several people, “You’ve paid taxes for decades – use every resource you can that is available to you now.”

I discovered one other thing recently: it’s easy to say that when you aren’t the one presenting the Medicaid card at the pharmacy or clinic. It’s harder – much harder, it turns out – to be the one holding that card and giving it to the pharmacist.

I was shocked at the shame, guilt, and embarrassment I felt the first time I used it. The sense of wanting to explain our situation and justify why I needed to use Medicaid.

After another multi-week battle, Medicaid approved covering the epilepsy meds. (Yes, he has in fact failed multiple other meds. Yes, the dual-fellowship-trained epileptologist does actually know what she’s doing…sorry, little snark oozing out there…).

We found a safety net again, one I’m still embarrassed to use. But one which I’m very grateful to have.

C’est la vie

By Carrie

On 01/12/2024

In Gratitude

Back up the crazy train! Actually, I backed up my shopping cart as the writing on the towel I had just passed registered in my brain. And then I laughed. Out loud. In the middle of the grocery store.

“Some days I think my life is being directed by Quentin Tarantino.”

Because, boy, did that sentence resonate a few days ago. Anyone else? (In case you are not my generation, Quentin has directed some…unique movies.)

Yesterday, a friend texted me about her child’s new plan at school to support a health diagnosis. She wrote that the “counselor seems really nice. I just have to laugh at the 504 plan though. Want to meet for tea one day next week and we can laugh together over life?”

Then she sent me a picture of the tag from her current cup of tea:

“Life may not be the party we hoped for but while we’re here we should dance.”

And that resonated too.

Five years ago, I would share the newest development in our lives with a friend who would then share it with her husband. His response multiple times was, “You can’t make this stuff up.”

And I feel like we’re living in that dimension again. “Life may not be the party we hoped for…” Indeed. I don’t think even Quentin Tarantino could make some of this stuff up.

“…but while we’re here we should dance.” When I saw a saying on a towel that made me laugh, I stopped to photograph it. When a friend wanted to laugh over tea, I gladly accepted. On the really hard days, I can’t do those things. On the really hard days, I definitely can’t dance. But most days? Most days I can dance. Like today.

_{Dance move a la John Travolta in Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction.}

Through (Together Remix)

By Carrie

On 11/03/2023

In Beauty in the Storm (epilepsy), Gratitude, His Vast Strength (stroke)

In less than six months this year, three friends received very serious cancer diagnoses.

The first came in April when my friend’s husband was admitted to the hospital the same day as receiving the diagnosis. The family’s community immediately rallied. Over the next several months, our family helped with the kids, provided food, and gave hugs whenever needed.

I also gave my friend one of my “The only way out is through” temporary tattoos but she didn’t think her husband’s doctors would let him apply it. Another friend had given her a bracelet that absorbs essential oils so she added the tattoo to her own wrist next to the bracelet. She even shared a photo of the bracelet and tattoo on a Caring Bridge update as they were on the front end of going through her husband’s cancer treatment.

Her post reminded me of my post “Through” last spring which included a photo of that tattoo on my own arm, the arm going through shoulder surgery recovery and PT. Two lone arms going through very difficult times in life.

Then two more friends received cancer diagnoses. Unfortunately, they live plane rides away from us so we can’t do much for them other than send texts, cards, and goofy little items to give them a laugh and help keep their spirits up. It’s been frustrating not being there to help but we’ve walked with them through as much of the journey as we can from afar, even if it was only written encouragement to our friend during his wife’s long surgery last Thursday.

Last weekend a friend treated me to “Swan Lake” at a local historic theatre. We found our seats and then asked a woman to take our photo with the beautiful theatre behind us. My friend put her arm around my back but I struggled to put mine behind her. I had to explain that I still can’t move my shoulder at that angle post-surgery.

“Ok,” she said. “We’ll do this,” as she grabbed my arm & linked hers through it.

That simple act reminded me of a quote I saved from a devotional recently:

We were designed to lock arms & fight together…
“Living Changed: Spiritual Warfare” YouVersion Plan

Yes, that’s what I have experienced within our storms of epilepsy, open-heart surgeries, stroke, and even shoulder surgery – people locking arms with us to get us “through” the storm.

So, while it’s true that “the only way out is through,” it isn’t the whole story.

More accurately, the only way out is through – together.

Be prepared. You’re up against far more than you can handle on your own.
Ephesians 6:13 MSG

Beauty in the not-normal

By Carrie

On 09/22/2023

In Gratitude

In search of a photo of the stunning fog rising off the small lake I had just driven past, I walked down this path.

The path led to the lake but once there I realized that the rising sun was now behind me – I stood on the opposite side of the lake I had driven past and could no longer see the beautiful mist backlit by sunrise.

The path didn’t lead to the view I had hoped for but a different beauty greeted me.

When we are open to beauty, it is more likely to appear to us. When we share that gift by pointing it out to others, we find we have even more of it to celebrate.
Trebbe Johnson

Last week someone told me my life wasn’t normal. Which, while validating to hear, is not what I want to spend my brief days focused on. Hence stopping for fog, something most people on that road probably didn’t even notice.

Looking for beauty in the not-normal doesn’t negate the pain. Our hardships hurt and do damage. At the same time, pain doesn’t mean beauty no longer exists.

Looking for beauty in the not-normal changes my focus from being only on the pain to also being on gratitude. And gratitude reaches out and keeps my head above the waves.

My husband likes the term “spiritual jiu jitsu” to describe times when I figuratively end up on my back on the mat after encountering a major insight from God. For me, gratitude is like that. It provides a way for me to perform a throw down on the pain trying to beat me.

Well, maybe more like “Karate Kid” and “wax on, wax off.”

Focusing on gratitude, I find a way to deflect even more damage that the pain from my not-normal wants to deliver. Pain wants me on my back and down for the count.

Gratitude deflects and even heals the wounds that pain inflicts.

Perhaps the more pain I experience, the more crucial it is that I look for beauty.

Gratitude as a discipline involves a conscious choice. I can choose to be grateful even when my emotions and feelings are still steeped in hurt and resentment.
Henri Nouwen

Not normal

By Carrie

On 09/13/2023

In Gratitude

“Your life’s not normal.”

My physical therapist said that yesterday as he explained he thought much of my continued pain and inflammation in my shoulder is from stress.

I started to cry.

“I’m not trying to bring out emotions here. You’ve had to deal with so much and you’ve weathered all of it.”

“I know,” as I cried and laughed.

But my life’s not normal.

Seizures, ADHD, allergies and autoimmune issues, and more for my son.

Open-heart surgeries (yes, plural), a job loss, and a stroke for my husband.

Nurse Ratchet administering a vaccine by SLAMMING the needle so hard into my shoulder that she tore a tendon…so badly that I needed surgery…after which I couldn’t take pain medications because they horribly triggered my vestibular migraines (which had developed from said vaccine) to the point that I couldn’t sleep at night, that sleep itself and the position of my head during sleep caused massive waves of vertigo ripping me from the sleep needed to heal from the shoulder surgery…

“I think this shoulder pain and restriction is from your body trying to protect itself.”

Because my life’s not normal.

I had to have imaging this morning on a lump in my neck. It appears to be a bone spur on my spine, and I’m thinking that could well be what’s causing the pain and range of motion restriction in my shoulder.

I just want a normal life.

I want the 2-3 kids I expected, including a set of twins. I want the big Victorian house with gorgeous woodwork that I envisioned living in as a teenager. I want a part-time job with benefits and actual vacation time.

I want normal.

On my drive to the clinic this morning, I drove past a little backwater lake and noticed the most beautiful fog rising up from it. Fall had very rapidly descended and the 43-degree air was colder than the water. A natural phenomenon, but not an every-day occurrence.

Certainly not normal.

Photo by Evi T. on Unsplash

Summer reading

By Carrie

On 06/09/2023

In Gratitude

“…having a positive attitude isn’t always painless – it’s a process, much like keeping a journal.”
It’s Gonna Be Okay journal

While shopping yesterday for items for Cody’s camp next week, I remembered I had wanted to buy a gratitude journal for a friend. I sent her a text asking if she or her whole family would use one. I hadn’t heard back from her by the time I finished my shopping list so headed to the journal aisle.

The reason I wanted to buy a gratitude journal for her is that her family is facing a summer of some very intense health issues. A gratitude journal wouldn’t magically make things better but it could give them a way to watch for good things this summer during the hard.

I was looking for one with a nice cover, something they could keep as a remembrance of getting through this stressful time. Instead, the first one I saw said, “IT’S GONNA BE OKAY” which caught my attention because I have a few friends who say that or something similar frequently. Then I read the rest of the cover and actually laughed out loud:

“A journal to reassure myself when I’m overwhelmed by the creeping sense of impending disaster and the all-encompassing fears both specified and vague that colonize my mind, body, and soul…”

Ha! I realized I was buying a journal for myself too.

Then I saw the journals “OKAY FINE, I’M GRATEFUL!” and “I’M SO FREAKING FREAKED OUT” – and grabbed one of each of those as well. I thought they were a nice complement to each other for my friend: some days we can be more grateful than others…some days we just freak out.

It turns out my friend already had a gratitude journal, but she readily accepted the freak out journal.

I paged through the other two last night and, while I have no shortage of unread books that I could read this summer, I appear to have two new ones to add to the summer reading list. There really isn’t much to read each day, just a quote about gratitude or optimism and a blank page for me to record “What I’m hanging hope on today” or “Why I’m grateful today, more or less.”

“While it’s true many of life’s ups and downs are out of our control, it’s also true that we can choose to enjoy the ride.” (introduction to It’s Gonna Be Okay journal)

There will be ups and downs this summer, not just for my friend but I’m sure in my own life as well. Because that’s life. We have good days and bad days. Or, as the Lawrence Welk quote for today’s summer reading states,

There are good days and there are bad days, and this is one of them.
Lawrence Welk

Saved you a seat

By Carrie

On 04/21/2023

In Gratitude

I took this photo as a joke two weeks ago today. Spur of the moment, we decided to spend a 4-day weekend on Minnesota’s North Shore again. First thing after unloading, I walked down to the fish shack’s porch on Lake Superior to enjoy the waves and sun (even though it was only 35 degrees).

I thought about sending the photo in a text saying “I saved you a seat” to two friends who would know exactly where I was – because they’d been there too. And yes, maybe to rub it in a little where I was. Not proud but there it is.

But if I texted them, they’d text me back. And then I would have to text THEM back…etc, etc…and I really just wanted to shut off the phone for the weekend.

So, I didn’t send the photo. But I thought about it again last week, after another friend texted me, “Can I come over?” and then “Wanna sit outside?” Now it was a gorgeous 80-degree afternoon so it made sense to sit outside…but I sensed it was more to share some bad news privately.

Healing hugs and chickadees

By Carrie

On 11/18/2022

In Gratitude

It was bound to happen sooner or later. Covid hit our house this week.

We had all still been wearing masks this fall despite the world around us seemingly going back to “normal.” I really didn’t want to get covid before our fundraising concert though and risk missing it, so at school, work, and errands we stayed masked.

We made it 2 ½ weeks after the concert, of going back to unmasked life, before Cody brought covid home from school.

Thankfully covid didn’t hit Cody harder due to his epilepsy nor did it cause problems for Chuck post-stroke. I got hit the hardest.

I’m actually typing from my bed, day 6 of being here. But I am feeling better.

I was so smeared for a few days that I barely got out of bed, so Chuck and Cody adjusted Cody’s bedtime routine. We always share what we’re grateful for from that day before we go to sleep; this week, we did it with Chuck and Cody sitting next to me in our bedroom instead of Cody’s.

The first night I was sick we said what we were grateful for, and they got up to leave the room. Cody walked to the door, then stopped and ran back to me, jumping on top of me.

“Healing hugs!” he exclaimed.

And he gave me a big, wraparound hug. He invented healing hugs after Chuck’s first open-heart surgery, being much gentler with Chuck back then than he was with me now, of course.

The next day he made me a get-well card. Cody loves birds so he drew a chickadee family in their nest. The littlest chickadee is on its back with its skinny claws in the air because it’s so happy that “mommydee” is healthy.

Awww.

It got me thinking about references to feathers and wings in the Bible.

How precious is Your lovingkindness, O God!
Therefore the children of men put their trust under the shadow of Your wings.
Psalm 36:7

Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me,
for in you my soul takes refuge;
in the shadow of your wings I will take refuge,
till the storms of destruction pass by.
Psalm 57:1

He shall cover you with His feathers,
And under His wings you shall take refuge
Psalm 91:4

Jesus even uses this imagery when he says,

“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the one who kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to her! How often I wanted to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing!”
Matthew 23:37

God wants to gather us in and care for and protect us – isn’t that a wonderful image? To have the Creator of the entire universe wanting to pull me under His wing. That’s what I thought about when I looked at Cody’s drawing.

I found one more verse about feathers and wings when I looked up those words.

But to you who fear My name
The Sun of Righteousness shall arise
With healing in His wings
Malachi 4:2

Healing in His wings. And that reminded me of Cody launching himself on me to hug me, wrapping his arms around me and settling in to make me feel better.

I think Cody was on to something when he dubbed them “healing hugs.”

I’m one fortunate (and healing) mommydee!

The fings I need

By Carrie

On 09/23/2022

In Gratitude

No, that’s not a typo. It’s how Cody said “things” when he was five. Or more accurately, it’s how he sang “things” when he was five.

I needed to do something a little mindless one afternoon this week so decided to download some of my pictures and videos from my Google backup (I keep getting “FULL!” messages from them so it’s time).

The oldest item in my Google Photos account was a video from April 2016. Cody learned a song at preschool which we had been singing as grace at meals. Thankfully, one morning at breakfast I decided to record it.

He didn’t quite remember all the lyrics, but the video was adorable! Five-year-old Cody singing? Oh, my goodness! I’d forgotten how little five looks…and sounds. Just what I needed.

"Thank You, God, for giving me the fings I need
The sun and the rain and the apple seed
Amen. Amen. Amen, amen, amen.  Amen!"

The thing is I realized that it was, in fact, just what I needed that day. As I played it a second time, the words sank in and I heard God talking to me from a six-year-old video and a five-year-old boy.

It’s the most wonderful time of the year!

By Carrie

On 08/26/2022

In Beauty in the Storm (epilepsy), Gratitude, His Vast Strength (stroke)

It’s the most wonderful time of the year
With the kids cannonballing
And everyone calling, Happy Birthday, dear
It’s the most wonderful time of the year

I love my birthday. I love opening presents. And birthday cake – don’t forget the cake! Or, as I woke up to this year, fresh out-of-the-oven chocolate chip cookies for breakfast.

I love my birthday.

It’s in August and I love summer so maybe I just love having something to celebrate this month. Or maybe August is my favorite month because it’s my birthday. Regardless, I still enjoy birthdays, even after almost 50 of them!

A friend’s birthday is the day after mine so we started celebrating together several years ago. A little playdate (and cake – don’t forget the cake!) with our kids and some other friends at a park. Or time at the local beach – again with friends and kids and cake.

Another group of friends, called the Birthday Club, gets together…well, for our birthdays. For my birthday this year, several of us spent a sunny, summer Sunday afternoon at a restaurant, eating and talking for almost three hours.

Then, of course, there’s the August celebration with my family because my mom’s birthday is August also. So, that was earlier this month. And finally celebrating with Chuck and Cody on the actual day. Which, this year, began with the previously mentioned “breakfast cookies” as Cody called them and ended with pizza on the beach for supper and Cody doing a “6th grader cannon ball!” off the dock. And there were texts and Facebook posts and emails from friends and family all day long.

After all of these people had thought of me, took time out of their day, and sent me birthday wishes. After God spoke to me all day long through all of those people, telling me over and over again, “I love you, Carrie.”

After all of that, I told God this morning I was disappointed with what He’s given me.