Joy Cometh in the Morning, or Even Before, Sometimes

 OKAY.  I know that last entry was seriously depressing.  I was feeling all that, It was real and my feelings are valid.  HOWEVER, it is not the end.

I felt a little better just vomiting all that out on the page as I wrote, but I finished and felt even sadder, if that can be imagined. 

I needed something but I didn't know what.

So, I turned to YouTube, to watch a lesson from two of my favorite Sunday school lesson expounders. They are teachers who teach Seminary and Institute in the area where I live.  I usually watch their lesson each Sunday as part of my personal study. But this last week I missed it. 

I do not think this was a coincidence that I watched it today.  And here's why.

The subject of our study this week is the final 3 chapters of Mormon's record of his own people--not as an abridger of the great Book of Mormon, but as a historian and prophet in his own book,  Mormon's book. He has watched his people become extinct because of their wickedness, and eventually it is just himself and his son, Moroni left. He is leaving his "last lecture". (If you ever read Randy Pausch's little book you'll see the similarity.)

Anyway, the teachers I watch mentioned that in scripture there a little pattern of people who feel they have been left all alone, but in their stories we find that God never leaves us all alone--I was reminded that even Jesus was sent an angel in the garden of Gethsemane to strengthen Him.

In the Old Testament we can read about Elijah the prophet who had just spent the last three years alone and was even kept alive by ravens who brought him food. But in 1 Kings 19, we are told that Elijah basically feels so down-hearted--like I did just a few hours ago--that he essentially tells God that he's done and he might as well die like all his ancestors had done. Then he curls up under a juniper tree and falls asleep. An angel gently wakes him and tells him to arise and eat of the cake the angle provides and goes on to tell him that he just needs to eat and rest, that the journey is too great for him right now.

Sometimes you just need someone to let you rest, bring you cake and tell you it is going to be alright. Even if you are a mighty Old Testament prophet.

The teachers use this story to illustrate the similar message we find with Mormon telling us his final story. There are days that feel it's all just too much for us. 

I know that feeling all too well today. 

But this scripture story reminds me that God is in charge. Jesus promised great things, and that goes for me too. Just like He did for Elijah. Just as God the Father did for His Son, Jesus Christ. and just like They have promised even me.

Good things to come.  Not a bad idea to sink into as I settle my heart enough for bed tonight. I am grateful for the miracles that God brings to pass in my life.  Even when it is just a gentle nudge to remember that His miracles are unending and offered to every one of His children. Even me. Even tonight. Even in this world and this day, and this situation.

"...and great shall be the peace of they children."

A Friend Moves Away--Temporally, At Least

I have some really great friends from long ago--like 20 years ago.  Some are old roommates.  Some are childhood friends or high school friends that I've kept in touch with on Facebook.  Some were newlyweds about the same time we were and we all came from the same (final) singles ward.

One of those friends is Amelia.  This is a friend from 20+ years ago, from my last singles ward, but she never married and has had more than her fair share of struggles and trouble.  Some has been health, some has been financial.  But throughout it all she has been one of the most faithful women I have ever met.

I learned from other Facebook friends that Amelia was struggling again, but this time it was really serious.  She was diagnosed with Stage 4 kidney cancer.  She was in the hospital and was scheduled for surgery the next day or so.

She was in Provo at the Utah Valley Regional Medical Center--a tremendously successful place for healing--at the time, so I took advantage of living relatively close and headed down to give you my support in person.  When I go there, her sister and brother were there from out of state.

She hasn't had the ideal, picture perfect family life.  Ever.  So this was the first tie I had met her siblings.  Her brother was going through some paperwork, including a living will, with her, and her sister caught me outside the room and told me what was going on.

The doctor's were preparing to do a hysterectomy and remove her cancer-filled kidney (luckily only one was diseased).  Her ovaries were covered in either cysts or metastasized cancer.  they wouldn't know until they saw it.  Her strength was low and her  understanding about the situation wasn't complete yet.  The doctor's knew that this first surgery would either make it a possibility to fight the cancer, or it would break her.  There wasn't much in between.

That weekend, we heard fro her family that the surgery was successful, but that the real test would be to see if her remaining kidney would start up once they take off the meds and dialysis that were necessary fro the surgery.  Monday was the day for the kidney to step up and do it's job, or Amelia would be on dialysis the rest of her, likely, short life.

Having seen a little of kidney issues with my dad's kidney transplant and the months leading up that that miracle, I didn't want Amelia to have to look forward to a life like that, or worse.  As friends who knew her, we committed to fasting for her kidney to work on Sunday, knowing that we were running out of time for the miracle she needed.

That Monday, the kidney specialist (who is a little on the dour side anyway, according to Amelia) was shocked and amazed that her remaining kidney immediately kicked into gear and began running properly.  We knew why and were so grateful for that blessing for our friend.

Not long after that miracle, a new challenge arrived:  her port became infected.  And the infection was bad.  It nearly wiped her out.  But with some strong antibiotics, surgery to remove the port, and a blood transfusion plus some time to heal and regain some strength, I saw her Wednesday after work and she was just remarkably better.

But the decision was made that she'd move this weekend to Portland to live with her sister and very near her brother and many nieces and nephews.  She will resume fighting the cancer now that the periphery issues are cleared up.

I was happy to see her, and to find her in such better health and positive spirits.  Good luck, Amelia.  A new adventure just means there are new friends to make.

What a Difference...

A new kidney can make....

A week can make...

Good medical attention can make....

Proper medication can make...

Some rest can make...

Good support and friends can make...

Commitment to each other can make...

A phone call can make...

A miracle makes.

The Day of Miracles!

My dad called here yesterday just before 4 PM.  He and my mom were on their way to UC San Francisco.  He had gotten the call that a kidney was coming for him. This is a call we have been waiting for since November or so last year when he was finally put on the transplant list.

Now we knew that the kidney itself is the first hurdle.  There was also the hurdles of final matching, the surgery itself and then the recovery time and potential rejection.  But the kidney--the first hurdle is the big one, really.

I spoke with my mom last night about 10 PM and they had Dad prepped for surgery--not letting him eat anything, IV in his arm, etc.--and they were expecting the new kidney to arrive within the hour.  I guess I didn't think they would call him until the organ was there yet, but it makes sense.  They can prep him while they wait for the organ's arrival.  It was one of those things I hadn't thought of in this process.

Mom said they learned that the donor was a 55 year old man who had a short stint with high blood pressure.  The donated kidney was coming from John Muir hospital, so they weren't sure how long it would take to get there.  But, she said, the head of the department--who was his surgeon--wanted to check the kidney tissue under the microscope before taking Dad to surgery.

This morning, my mom called about 8 AM our time.  The kidney arrives last night, and the good doctor thought it was a good match, so Dad went into surgery about 11 PM (their time) and the surgery lasted until about 2 AM.  The surgeon then spoke with mom and told her that things went great and dad was responding like he should.  All good news.

As Mom was talking with me, I could hear Dad in the background.  He was sitting up and feeling pretty good.  He had coughed just before she called and that caused him to finally take some pain mediation.  He has to use a catheter for a few days and the nurses monitor his urine output--to see if all the connections are functioning--and this morning things there were looking good too.

Mom said he has a 6 inch long track line where his "fluid exchange" tubing had been installed for his dialysis.  They removed the "quick connect" line and put the kidney into that same spot.  What I found interesting was they left his two natural--and minimally functioning--kidneys in.  They sewed in a new ureter to the new kidney and connected that like the old ones to the bladder.  I figured they would have removed the diseased ones.  But they don't. I think that is interesting.

Dad was doing well enough this morning that mom thought she would go home and sleep in her bed--she tried sleeping in Dad's hospital bed while he was in surgery--but the nurses kept trying to take her vital signs and she had to tell them she wasn't the patient!  They she would go back up and keep track of him until they left him out.

But there is much to be thankful for today!  I am grateful for the fabulous Transplant Team and the care they gave me dad and the knowledge they have to save lives and improve health for others.  I am truly thankful for the donor and his family--for their generosity and thoughtful gift in their tie of mourning.  I am thankful for the prayers of so many friends and family--that this day would come, but especially that the transplant last night would go well.  I'm thankful for the medical advances and procedures that have kept Dad going for these past few years as well as the astounding abilities they have developed to take one person's organ and give it to another.  And I am most thankful for our loving Heavenly Father how hears and answers prayers.  He is ever watchful and eternally kind to us.  And He ultimately has our lives in His hands.  I am grateful for another day, week, year, decade to share with my dad.