A Little Fuzzy

This is not an instance where I can say, "It all happened so fast."  It was actually a pretty slow process, most of which I remember quite clearly.

As you know, I had another sinus procedure done this past Wednesday.  Thank you to those of you who prayed for me.  It was something that scared me so bad, and hung over my head tremendously.  I was absolutely dreading the procedure.  I don't care what is done to me when I'm put to sleep. But, when I'm awake and things are being done inside my body, I freak out.  I was praying a whole lot, and did experience peace, but not peace like on the day of surgery.  For some reason I felt like the Wednesday procedure was my cross to bear.

Anyway, per instructions, I ate breakfast before my appointment even though I felt so sick to my stomach and really didn't want to eat a thing.  Since I was supposed to take Percocet before the procedure, I had to eat breakfast.  Toast, apple sauce, and half a banana were all I could tolerate.  Are you getting my point that I was very careful to eat and very careful to follow the instructions?  Well, I was because I did not want to be the girl that ignored the instructions and ended up getting sick all over the doctor's office because of it.  No sir-ee, I was a good little patient and ate my breakfast then swallowed the legal narcotics.

So Chuck and I arrived, and I read, "31 Days of Praise" by Ruth Myers (a wonderful gift from Candy that has been such a God-send to refresh my soul this past week) in the waiting room while he read an article in Life Magazine about the high suicide rate in Europe (depressing!).  Our wait was fairly short before we were taken back to the exam room.  After talking with the nurse, we had another short wait until Dr. Doyle came in. (AMAZING doctor if anyone is in need of a fantastic ENT- more on her later.)  Once she arrived, I apologized in advance (in case I started acting odd) because I was starting to feel a little fuzzy due to the meds.  She answered all my questions (I'm doing fine, my recovery has been normal, and I can finally drink out of a straw again!).

Then she sprayed the medicine up my nose that helps numb inside.  (In my experience, sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn't, hence my terror.)  Her advice is to always keep my head down so I don't have to taste it (really nasty) and so it doesn't numb my throat (really scary).   I did just that while Chuck and I were led to the next room where the procedure would be done.  We sat next to each other on some chairs while the nurse prepped the tools.  Ick.  (Might I just interject here that seeing the nurses set up the tools is so creepy.  I can't watch because I get all freaked out about what tools are being set out, and what they will be used for.)

As I have already  mentioned, I had started to feel fuzzy in the first exam room.  As more time went by, more symptoms were added.  My limbs started to feel warm, my shoulders felt tingly, and I very much enjoy myself in that state.  Nice and relaxed.  But then my vision started to be spotty and blackish, followed by a cold sweat that made me want to rip off all my clothes right there in the middle of the room without a care of who was around me.  Then I thought I was about to lose the breakfast I hadn't even wanted to eat in the first place.  I gave Chuck a running commentary as each new symptom hit me, until I finally said, "I think I'm going to pass out..." That's when everything went black, but I could still hear.  I felt myself slump forward towards the floor, and heard Dr. Doyle arrive just at that moment.  Chuck was already holding me, and the two of them somehow hoisted me up onto the exam table.  My whole body was limp, and there was nothing I could do.

As I laid there, I could feel the Dr. and nurse taking care of me.  I could hear everything they were saying, but my body was a lifeless blob.  I remember Dr. Doyle saying, "You're alright, everything is just fine." and I thought, "I really like this lady..."

Land of the (sordof) Living

Hello world!  I'm here, just in case you were wondering.  It's day 6 of recovery, and I think overall it has been going well.  I have been through so many other more painful, more difficult things in life that this last surgery has felt like a bit of a breeze.  Don't get me wrong, I haven't been anywhere but in bed or on the couch all week, and I certainly haven't been doing cartwheels or backflips- oh yay,  I don't do those anyway- but as surgeries go, two thumbs up.  Today has been the first day I have been able to tolerate reading.  Reading has made me feel nauseous, especially scrolling through my phone.  Even looking at this computer screen is starting to make me queasy so I better hurry up and finish.

What I can say is:  God is so good, and he has given me a husband that is just crazy-amazing.  I've told Chuck numerous times this week he should have been a nurse.  He has served me constantly and sweetly throughout this entire ordeal.  Even as I type, Chuck is out picking up a Starbucks, unsweetened black iced tea for me, with sweet and low on the side.  (No straw though, that is against recovery rules, such a bummer- I love straws!)  He has bandaged my nose countless times.  You should see how hot I look with gauze and tape plastered to my face.  He has heated up countless meals and prepared a whole lot of toast.  He has kept my medicine schedule on a timer and so sweetly brings it to me with water or Gingerale.  He puts up with my TV show choices, and still chooses what I want to watch even when I tell him he can pick ;).    I have experienced so much love this week, it overwhelms me.

And not just from Chuck.  God has poured out his love on me through many family members and friends.  Would you believe friends brought us dinner on 4 different nights?  And another friend sent us a gift card for another night?  I am so touched, and so humbled, and feel incredibly loved.  The meals have been a huge help, and a huge blessing.  I've also gotten an outpouring of love from friends who have called, emailed, text, or brought gifts.  THANK YOU all for loving me so kindly.

Mostly, I want to thank you for praying for me.  There have been some low points, and discouraging points, and I still have a few battles ahead, but I have known God's peace to be real and true.  And I want to thank you for going to the Father on my behalf.  He has heard you, and he has answered.  I have HOPE by the power of the Holy Spirit!  Amen!

Oh, and in case you were wondering, I slept well the night before surgery- praise God!  If you could be praying for something specific, I have an appointment on Wednesday that I'm really afraid of.  I think more afraid then I was for the actual surgery.  At this appointment, they will have to go in and clean out the "debris" from surgery.  They'll have to do this several times to prevent infection.  This scares me to death because I'll be awake, and I know how sensitive everything is inside my face.  I was instructed to take my pain medicine beforehand, and that actually scares me more!  Please just pray for that peace that can only come from God!  Thanks so much for praying!

Until next time...

Tomorrow

 Tomorrow at this time, my surgery will be OVER.  I hope to be sitting right back here on my couch, in our newly rearranged living room for my recovery.  The TV was way too far away before, so Chuck (with the help of his brother Timmy) moved it closer for my enjoyment.  I am so looking forward to sitting here tomorrow night with this whole thing behind me.  Hopefully I'll be on some sort of very strong pain-killer and flying high in the sky  feeling much better. 

This surgery has been a long-time coming.  I've had a chronic sinus infection since March, and hopefully tomorrow it will be all gone.  It will be bliss! I am so looking forward to breathing!  No need to blab on and on about the physical logistics, it's mostly gross anyway.  

I tend to be fearful, especially when it comes to a surgeon "working" inside my face with risk to my vision, hearing, smelling, oh and meningitis.  Sigh.  THANKFULLY, I have God.  For real.  What would I do without Him?  A couple weeks ago one of our Pastors, Ed spoke an amazing message on true hope, and how we can have it.  It certainly wasn't a "three steps to have hope" message or anything, it was just truth from Romans 15. The biggest comfort to me these past few weeks has been Romans 15:13, "May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit."  Though I did have quite a melt down earlier this week, I have peace and joy right now, which can not be explained outside of God.  My friend Gretchen, without even knowing my Romans 15 journey, sent me an email with that very verse!  God is working!

Earlier this week my Mom sent me the sweetest care package that just floored me.  As I opened it up, I could hardly believe what was inside- a new pair of cozy PJ's!  I hadn't shared with anyone that I was secretly hoping for a new pair of PJ's for surgery.  If I feel cute, then my outlook is always better.  ;)  She also sent me a new Rachael Ray magazine, that I can't wait to dive into during my recovery!  Even though I ended up having to exchange the PJ's, Chuck patiently took me shopping all afternoon until we found just the right replacement pair, including new fuzzy slippers!  I can hardly wait for them to operate!  Ha, not quite, but the gifts certainly help my outlook.  

It has also been highly encouraging to receive calls and texts from friends and family who are praying for me.  Thank you all!  My Dad just actually prayed WITH me on the phone, and that was wonderful.  How could I ever complain about a little sinus surgery when my Dad has been busted open three different times to have his heart worked on, for crying out loud?!  I could feel my Dad's compassion for me as he prayed because he's been there.  He knows all too well the fears and junk that go along with surgery.  Sweet moment together. 

Tonight, if you're out there and happen to be reading this, please pray that I sleep well.  I'm not a good sleeper as it is, but I'd really love a good night's rest.  We will be up and at 'em by 6am, so it would be awesome to be rested up a bit.  Thank you for praying, and I'm sure I'll have a great update in a few days.  

As always, to God be the glory!

Go to the Mattresses

Having recently watched, "You've Got Mail" for the millionth time, I couldn't resist the title.  Though I've also seen, "The Godfather" (thanks to Tara), I don't recall the "going to the mattresses" thing.  For those of you who haven't seen either movie, and are completely confused, we're moving on now.

When Chuck and I were engaged, he already owned a queen-sized bed which he had bought brand new before I was in the picture.  I remember the very first time he showed me the bed.  It looked really nice, and cute (for a guy bed) in his guest bedroom.  I distinctly recall sitting on the bed and flinging myself backwards to get a good feel for it.  I also very distinctly recall feeling like I had just sat on the hard floor and flung myself backwards onto the hard ground.  I laughed out loud at how uncomfortable the mattress was.  But, I was engaged, giddy, and starry-eyed- ecstatic to marry the man of my dreams so it didn't bother me.  Then. 
After we were married, I quickly learned that when my dreamy brand new husband fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow, I was left to my newlywed loneliness and a very uncozy mattress.  Three years have gone by and I've sacrificed night after night sleeping on that thing.  Well, God knows my love language is gifts, and I'm convinced He loves to lavish me with them.  This week topped the charts in my book for one of the greatest gifts ever.  God used some pretty special people to....wait for it....buy us a brand-new mattress!  (You know who you are, and I can not even begin to THANK YOU enough!!!)

 We got to go and pick it out (so awkward, might I add to try out beds- a post for another day) ourselves.  Thankfully, my friend Ang was an enormous help.  She's apparently the mattress guru and told us everything we needed to know.  Including the tip that we needed to wheel and deal to get the best price along with some stuff for free.  That's right, on top of our amazing plush, pillow-top mattress, we also got TWO, that's right TWO FREE luxury memory foam, contour pillows.  I've never had a nice pillow, and I'm ecstatic to be the proud owner of one.  Another great tip, queen-sized box springs can be ordered as split so it's much easier to move- again, thanks to Ang the mattress guru.  


So here I sit, on my Simmons Beautyrest, plush pillow-top mattress, cozied up to my memory foam, contour pillow.  We're heading into our first night together and I'm so excited I don't know if I'll be able to sleep!

Utopia at last. 

My new, crazy-amazing pillows.  I had to post this picture because Chuck insisted his nerdy special German pillow  be included as well. 

Isn't she a beaut?

Abigail

After talking with my Mom, I stand corrected.  A few edits have been made...

Recently I was talking to one of my dear friends, Lisa (I never call her Lisa by the way, she is almost always referred to by me as "Fur".) about what she and her husband, Eric might name their baby.  They are keeping the possible names a surprise, but we still had quite a time talking about it.  We ended up discussing what our parents almost named us, and were in tears of laughter about it.  I don't want to mention the names we thought were so hilarious because I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings if they happen to actually have the name.  It's just that we're so used to our own names, any other name seems crazy-funny. 

During the same conversation, I told Lisa that when my Mom was pregnant with my older brother, she had loved the name Abigail.  She shared her love of the name with someone, and got quite a negative response, which really hurt her.  Then a coule years later after she went into labor with me as my Dad drove her to the hospital (after a youth group all-nighter, I believe- yuck!  Thankfully our youth group doesn't do those, I'd never survive.) they talked again about the girl name they had picked-  Joy Elizabeth (don't worry, that's not one of the funny names).  Then my Mom said to my Dad, "I still like the name Abigail Joy".  My Dad replied that he, too liked the name, and that's how it came to be. 

They named me Abigail, choosing to call me "Abby" and I have always loved my name.  I was the only Abby in my classes, and I think there was only one other Abby in my entire high school and college.  My name was unique, and I felt special because of it.  Until I started working with the teens at our church.  THEN in my small group of girls, there were three Abby's out of eight girls.  This year, there are about six or seven freshman named Abby.  At summer camp, I think Abby was the most common name.  I would constantly hear my name, turn around, and the person wouldn't be talking to me.  Lame. 

I text my Mom during camp and told her that I was no longer going by Abby.  She told me she wanted me to go by Abby as a child, but thought I might want to switch to Abigail when I was an adult!  So, I turned 30 this year, and though I still like the name Abby, I no longer feel unique.  What better time to start going by Abigail than in my thirtieth year of life?

Abigail means, "Father's source of joy", and my father has reminded me my whole life I have lived up to my name.  ;) I'm proud to be a source of joy for my father and my mother, and I'm proud my parents named me what they did.

Now for the switch.  Whenever I meet someone new, I've got to say, "My name is Abigail", but it's hard.  I feel uncomfortable because I've already had many friends, and even family members say they "can't" call me Abigail.  What the heck?  Yesterday we were at a youth staff meeting and I was bombarded with people saying, "We can't call you Abigail!"  Come on people, how hard can it be?! 

Ready or not, here I come!