Saturday, August 14, 2010

more waiting...

The answer I got was more waiting.  "Let's see what the monitor shows us on Monday."  And...  "It can take two up to two weeks to get used to the side effects, so hang in there."

SIGH.

Actually, last night I really did feel less nauseous, so I was hopeful.  I drank a Dr. Pepper and ate some spinach.  Now that might sound like a less than tasty combination, but the spinach came first.  I did not throw it up, so I went to bed feeling as if there might be a light at the end of the tunnel.  I am not sure why I was craving spinach.

However, something was seriously amiss this morning.  It was the absolute worst case scenario I had found online.  Each time I stood up, it was as if I was right back on the tilt table and my blood pressure and heart rate were plummeting.  I had heard of projectile vomiting, but did not really understand what such a thing could be like.  I would try to stand and begin to feel that strange sensation in my neck and my hands began tingling and the dizziness set in immediately. I started sweating profusely and vomiting before I could get to the bathroom.  I tried to stand off and on for over two hours and then gave up, not even caring about the mess on the floor of my bedroom and the hallway.  For the very first time, I actively considered calling 911.  But I am the one who tries too hard to figure everything out.  How would they get in?  Would it be safe to reveal where the outside key was?  What would they do for me?  

After trying again and again to get up, I was so exhausted that I finally fell back asleep, once I positioned the pillows about me so that I wouldn't move, since even rolling from side to side in the bed brought on waves of dizziness and nausea.  When I awoke several hours later, I was still rather dizzy.  Deciding to take the wait and see approach, I talked with Vee and "Manna" to pass some of the time and then napped again.  

Finally, when I could move without being so dizzy, I literally crawled out of bed, across the messy floor, down the stairs, and on into the kitchen.  It was like I was crawling through a jungle avoiding an enemy, only my enemy was being upright.  Once in the kitchen, I pulled open the refrigerator and took out the Gatorade bottle.  For I had decided that if my blood pressure was that low, I should try and do the salt thing.  Over the course of two hours, I drank the entire bottle and ate several helping of ham, the only really salty thing in my house.

[I need to remember to buy small Gatorade bottles and some healthy and some salty snacks and put them in a basket in my bedroom.]

This morning was exactly like some of the descriptions I have read of people who have had bad episodes of the orthostatic intolerance, which was, and is, rather distressing.  Some people get where they cannot stand at all.  [Lord, have mercy.]  My only hope is that I have to be truly a quart low on just about everything after the week I have had.

Because I could not stand, I was not able to take any of my medication.  I will, once I make it back upstairs.  Perhaps I should have my medication on both floors?  I am hoping that when I do take that wretched medication again, the glimmer of hope I had last night flickers stronger and it is merely nausea and no more vomiting.

I am exhausted thinking about the utter mess upstairs.  Even though I never actually made it to the bathroom with my body, my insides did.  While I wouldn't even want another person to have to clean that up, neither am I looking forward to doing so myself.  Plus, there have been shards from a broken mirror littering the bathroom floor since Tuesday, when I broke it.  I had made a pathway to the toilet, but I need to clean those up as well.

And it is a good thing I wear many layers, for my outer layer was dirtied crawling downstairs.  But that also means laundry.  More exhaustion.

I will admit that in my abject misery my first thought was the Lord's Supper.  I missed it last week.  How will I get to church tomorrow?  It is my fervent hope that I will have enough rest tonight to feel stronger on the morrow, for I am not sure I could, in good conscience, get behind the wheel of my car if I am not significantly stronger than I am right now.  I long for His body and blood.  Oh, how I need that medicine He has for us, need that forgiveness, need that grace... 

"Manna" wrote a most worthy observation about faith on her blog Thursday (she is a fellow lover of Luther's writings), that I thought I would ponder again as I head toward the close of this day:

What is faith?
With these words, "Abraham believed God,"  Paul shows us that faith in God is the highest worship, the greatest allegiance, the ultimate obedience,and the most pleasing sacrifice.  Whoever has a way with words should expand on this topic.  That person will discover that faith is all-powerful.  Its power is immeasurable and infinite.  Faith gives God the greatest honor anyone can give him.  Giving God honor is believing him, considering him truthful, wise, righteous, merciful, and all-powerful.  In short, it's recognizing that he is the Creator and Giver of every good thing.  Reason doesn't do this, only faith does.

Faith makes God real to us and real in us. Without faith, God's honor, glory, wisdom, righteousness, truth, and mercy cannot be in us.  Where there is no faith, God has no majesty and divinity.  God doesn't require anything more form us that to acknowledge his divinity and give him the glory and honor he deserves.  We shouldn't think of him as an idol but as God--the God who accepts us and hears us, who is merciful to us, and who stands by us.  When we honor God, his divinity remains complete and intact--he has everything that a believing heart can give him.  When we honor God in this way, we are showing the greatest wisdom, the highest justice, and the best worship, while offering the most pleasing sacrifice. (26:226)

The question about faith comes up again and again.  Faith is completely inspired by the object of faith, and thus no work.  Yet, it is something in us, part of us.  Faith grows through the means of grace, where we are presented with all the teachings and gifts of God.  But in essence faith is about God.  When we say the creed:  "I believe..." it is all about who God is, what he does and has done.  Nothing in the creed is about me, except that he also saved me. He is the God who "accepts us and hears us, who is merciful to us, and who stands by us." 



Lord, I believe.  Help my unbelief!

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