Eleven weeks post-transplant: ramblings

Nine/ten weeks.

Clinical visits are so difficult! I had one this past Thursday; it had been a month since I had been to Duke. I went alone this time. I needed to. I hadn't been alone in quite awhile. Lol

The difficulty doesn't come from getting up early or the two hour drive. It's just the whole emotion of it all.

I'm afraid I may wake up one day and it all be a dream. The non- diabetes part anyway. It would have been worth it all though.

This chapter in my life is so weird. Sometimes I can't grip it psychologically. When I say I feel like a completely different person, I feel like it's an understatement. I feel like a COMPLETELY different person; physically, mentally, in my goals and ambitions...

Honestly, I feel like I moved forward and everyone else stayed back.

I'm so truly thankful that I have a Heavenly Father that I can go to. Jesus gets it. He knows. I'm sure it's more real to Him than anyone I know on earth and I am profoundly thankful.

So, I have to say, I drove and wasn't tired; which I was so thankful for!

I don't sleep good the night before clinic visits. I wake up super early. I pray a lot! It isn't because I'm afraid the pancreas won't be working or that the tests results will be bad. God has me there for a reason and I don't want to let Him down. It scares me that I will. Or ya know how you are going through something (not necessarily bad) and you think it's all going to end up one way and then when everything pans out, it's not like that at all? Lol. Maybe I'm afraid of that a little too.

The last time I was there, they were looking at my blood pressure log and asked why there were a couple really high ones. I opted not to tell them it was because I had found out through my endocrinologist that I was the first one there to be hooked up the way I was/am and they failed to tell me!
The doc told me to "take a chill pill." Oh, great! Am I being a bad witness? Like, I wasn't trusting God and I was telling them I was scared. 😒
Ugh! I just want everyone to know Jesus. He is so good and wonderful! As I've said before, wouldn't it be great if God used my 31 years of diabetes and a pancreas transplant to lead people to Him? Wow. Talk about being worth it!

First of all, every time I go to the doc (any doc) my blood pressure is so high. Please understand, if you go somewhere and 90% of the time you go, you get bad news, wouldn't you get a bit nervous too? I've tried to get them to understand this, but they don't. 😒

It's funny because they are so not ever happy with anything that I do. And that's okay. It's fine. I want to be a perfect, over-achiever patient. They reprimanded me for checking my blood sugar too much. Lol! Wow. Okay, I'll do something 5-12 times a day my whole life and then just not. Sure thing!

Let's get real for a minute. Getting "real" is hard sometimes, isn't it?
So, it takes quite a bit to keep me alive on a daily basis. For example, I had a routine eye visit the other day and it took them literally 45 minutes (at least) to update my chart with everything I have (they were missing a few things) and the new transplant meds. 😝

This can be hard on a person mentally. 😾

I wouldn't wish me on anyone. 🙊

Sometimes I think it would have been best not to get married and have kids. They have to put up with a lot because of my sicknesses. They do without a lot and no, I do not make up for it.

I try my best to be healthy so that nothing else comes up, but it seems like no matter how hard I try there's always something else. Like, when I went to the optometrist, she told me that I had a small hemorrhage in the back of my right eye. 😳 I'm truly not worried about it, but still, it's just something else. 😒

The good thing though is the pressure in my eyes were normal. They were high last time and she wanted to make sure they were okay. I've been told the pressure in my eyes were high before. When I was younger, I was actually diagnosed with glaucoma. But then for years after that I never had high pressure again. God's so good to me! Why? I have no idea!

What's He done for you? 😊

Ten weeks post-transplant! 😳

Nine/ten weeks.

Clinical visits are so difficult! I had one this past Thursday; it had been a month since I had been to Duke. I went alone this time. I needed to. I hadn't been alone in quite awhile. Lol

The difficulty doesn't come from getting up early or the two hour drive. It's just the whole emotion of it all.

I'm afraid I may wake up one day and it all be a dream. The non- diabetes part anyway. It would have been worth it all though.

This chapter in my life is so weird. Sometimes I can't grip it psychologically. When I say I feel like a completely different person, I feel like it's an understatement. I feel like a COMPLETELY different person; physically, mentally, in my goals and ambitions...

Honestly, I feel like I moved forward and everyone else stayed back.

I'm so truly thankful that I have a Heavenly Father that I can go to. Jesus gets it. He knows. I'm sure it's more real to Him than anyone I know on earth and I am profoundly thankful.

So, I have to say, I drove and wasn't tired; which I was so thankful for!

I don't sleep good the night before clinic visits. I wake up super early. I pray a lot! It isn't because I'm afraid the pancreas won't be working or that the tests results will be bad. God has me there for a reason and I don't want to let Him down. It scares me that I will. Or ya know how you are going through something (not necessarily bad) and you think it's all going to end up one way and then when everything pans out, it's not like that at all? Lol. Maybe I'm afraid of that a little too.

The last time I was there, they were looking at my blood pressure log and asked why there were a couple really high ones. I opted not to tell them it was because I had found out through my endocrinologist that I was the first one there to be hooked up the way I was/am and they failed to tell me!
The doc told me to "take a chill pill." Oh, great! Am I being a bad witness? Like, I wasn't trusting God and I was telling them I was scared. 😒
Ugh! I just want everyone to know Jesus. He is so good and wonderful! As I've said before, wouldn't it be great if God used my 31 years of diabetes and a pancreas transplant to lead people to Him? Wow. Talk about being worth it!

First of all, every time I go to the doc (any doc) my blood pressure is so high. Please understand, if you go somewhere and 90% of the time you go, you get bad news, wouldn't you get a bit nervous too? I've tried to get them to understand this, but they don't. 😒

It's funny because they are so not ever happy with anything that I do. And that's okay. It's fine. I want to be a perfect, over-achiever patient. They reprimanded me for checking my blood sugar too much. Lol! Wow. Okay, I'll do something 5-12 times a day my whole life and then just not. Sure thing!

Let's get real for a minute. Getting "real" is hard sometimes, isn't it?
So, it takes quite a bit to keep me alive on a daily basis. For example, I had a routine eye visit the other day and it took them literally 45 minutes (at least) to update my chart with everything I have (they were missing a few things) and the new transplant meds. 😝

This can be hard on a person mentally. 😾

I wouldn't wish me on anyone. 🙊

Sometimes I think it would have been best not to get married and have kids. They have to put up with a lot because of my sicknesses. They do without a lot.

I try my best to be healthy so that nothing else comes up, but it seems like no matter how hard I try there's always something else. Like, when I went to the optometrist, she told me that I had a small hemorrhage in the back of my right eye. 😳 I'm truly not worried about it, but still, it's just something else. 😒

The good thing though is the pressure in my eyes were normal. They were high last time and she wanted to make sure they were okay. I've been told the pressure in my eyes were high before. When I was younger, I was actually diagnosed with glaucoma. But then for years after that I never had high pressure again. God's so good to me! Why? I have no idea!

What's He done for you? 😊

Eight weeks post transplant

Two days shy of eight weeks post-transplant. I dreamed of this day! Really, I couldn't wait to get to this point: surgery over, getting my energy back, starting to get back on schedule, and pain almost completely gone from surgery.
~I can still only lift five pounds for one more month.
~As of yesterday, I am down to 10 mg of prednisone. Two weeks of that and then down to five and that will be forever.
~I haven't even had to take Tylenol. I only took one of my pain pills after I came home that the doc prescribed me. I finally hated having them just lying around and disposed of them. They are long gone in a safe manner. Good riddance!

I don't think there's a single male that reads my blog, but just in case that comes to be in the future (and for the girls too) be warned I'm going to talk about girly stuff.

~So, my girl time has been completely off. Probably because I couldn't take my BC for a whole month after transplant due to the high risk of blood clots with pancreas transplants.
I have now been on it for almost a complete month and this is my second week of girl time. 😝 Why, oh why do we have to go through this?
~Also, I'm getting facial hair. Please don't think I'm crazy, but this was my second worst fear about the transplant. First being the graph didn't work from the start.
I know. Graph not working, facial hair. Doesn't add up, but I'm a girl!

First and foremost, I will take the facial hair. I'm blessed and things can be done. People can just look away, I refuse to become a man, I can join a freak show and make money as the bearded, two pancreas freak lady! It's all good!

I don't have to like it though. I've gotten some good advice and I am going to try some different things and then maybe I'll blog specifically on prednisone-caused facial hair removal. It'll be good! Stay tuned for that one!

~Also because of (from what I understand) lack of making a certain Hormone during that time, gastroparesis can actually become worse. So, for a few weeks, I had some heartburn. It was pretty bad. My nephrologist said I could just take a few Tums before bed because that's when I was having the most problems.
Actually, to the point it was waking me up at night. My throat would sound like someone shook up a pop bottle in my tummy and it was fizzing up my esophagus.
Per the advice of my nephrologist, he said to talk to my GI doc first. I feel like maybe I asked him about this already, but with a transplant, there's a lot of information to remember. So, I emailed him asking if it was okay to take the Tums and that I was having this crazy heartburn. I think all my doctor's should be in the loop. Am I wrong on this?
Anyway, no answer, but I took it anyway a couple of times and then realized it was probably from the lack of hormone. It has gotten better over the past week, Thank the Lord! I'm hoping everything is straightening out.
Plus, this just proved to me another reason you should really study up on your own diseases.
You see, with the AMAG, I'm not supposed to make (or make less than normal) stomach acid, so having heartburn shouldn't even be a reality for me. But it is and from what I understand, AMAG is so rare that I shouldn't even have it at all. From trying to learn more about it, I found that like only 1.3% of women studied (out of ?) had it and they were something like 63 years old and older. So, although, technically, scientifically, medically, I shouldn't have heartburn; I was, indeed, having it.


April is also Donate Life month! I was so excited to sign myself up as a donor! I just always assumed I couldn't...

I still haven't heard from my donor's family. I'm not surprised or mad, but of course, I want to know them. I want to know my donor. They are so special. My champion. My hero. 🌻

I thank the Lord for that person every day. I ask God to tell them how special they are to me and how much I appreciate them.
I also pray for their family daily. I'm sure the pain is still very real to them.

As far as my blood sugars go, they've been doing well. Thank the Lord! The only "problem" I've had is after my morning pills and breakfast, I almost have to lay down for at least 30 mins. It's like I get totally wiped out!

So, here's to a blessed 8 weeks! Thank you God for your good and perfect gift! 🌻😃

Transplant: part 2

Transplant: Part 2

One month ago today I got the call from Duke. I honestly can't believe it's been four weeks since I left home hoping to get this transplant, but praying only to get it if it was God's will.

In some ways it seems like just yesterday and in some ways it seems like I've always had it; like it's always been a part of me. It wasn't always mine though.

It has only been four weeks, but I did write my donor's family last week. I haven't heard anything back. Again, it's only been four weeks. Last week at my clinical, I saw a man (and his wife) that had been in the hospital the same time I had been and they had heard from their donor's family. It had been 90 days. I'm not trying to get my hopes up, but I'd love for them to be an even greater part of my life.

This particular donor had been a fifth grader. A fifth grader! My son's age. The man had received his kidney and liver. Amazing how the body works and how it can be "recycled."

I've been earnestly thinking about donating my body to science. I know it's uncomfortable to talk about, but I think it would be a good thing to do. After all, I'm a freak of nature. Maybe someone could learn from my diseases. That would be a pretty awesome thing.

I have looked it up and I know it's a process. I wish I could promise my body to a university and one of my kids (both would probably be asking a little much...lol) have an opportunity to get their education for free there. A body exchange program of some sort. Lol. 😂 I think it's a good idea!



I know since my transplant, I've had a few very emotional days. There are times I just have to be alone and cry. Supposedly some of the medicines (mainly prednisone) can make one feel all different sorts of strong feelings. Just like any big event in life, there are days I'm so amazingly grateful for this opportunity and other times I'm sad because I wonder how long it will last, why my donor died, if I will ever know them, or if this will be as worth it as I hope it is. Worth it in the sense that I would love to be able to encourage others-motivate and uplift those that need to overcome illness(es). Especially giving God all the glory. He is the One that took extra special care of me for 31 years and made it possible for me to get this transplant successfully. He is so good.

I suppose this is why we can't always go by how we feel. Like it says in Ecclesiastes, however, there is a time to be sad and a time to be happy. There is a season for everything. If we were never sad, how could we possibly be so thankful for our happy times? Our body is build to have emotions. Emotions are good, but like the fruit of the spirit of patience, I have to remind myself that everything happens in God's time if He is the leader of my life. Therefore, my disappointment now, may mean at some point it will turn into a happy occasion where someone else may become encouraged or miraculously look to God's goodness on their own lives and come to repentance.
"Or despisest thou the riches of his goodness and forbearance and longsuffering; not knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance?" Romans 2:4

I'm so truly and deeply thankful for that verse. There are ones that I know and ones I deeply love who need salvation and this is the exact way I pray for them. I pray it doesn't take something terrible to get them to repentance. I pray true repentance comes to them because they are abundantly blessed. Thank the Lord for His grace and mercy!

Thoughts???

God answers prayer!

Three weeks! I'm very behind writing this, but I've been healing and kind of in and out of reality for the past three weeks.

On Sunday February 7, 2016, at around 6:00 pm, Duke called to tell me that it was time! It was during church; communion service.
Of course, with dozens and dozens of close calls, maybe's and then failures, I tried not to get my hopes up.
However, by 11:15 pm, I was checking in at Duke's emergency room. They almost immediately walked me to the surgery prep rooms. I had been there once before...
After putting on the ever-stylish hospital gown, blood work, answering lots of questions and getting an IV (which was difficult), they let me rest for a bit.
Honestly, I was nervous at first and even though I thought it might really be it-the time; the stars, planets, and their moons in heaven were all aligned, God was smiling on me, time itself was standing still, and every single detail was in place-I still didn't want to get my hopes up.
Around four or five Monday morning, people started pouring in-anesthesiologists, nurses, doctors...a whole medical team was preparing me. One of them said surgery was scheduled at around 7. I didn't flinch, I'd heard it all before.
Then the actual surgeon came in. He set his proud self down on the blue and black swivel seat, leaned back all comfy, crossed his legs, put his hands together, looked at me with his dark eyes and said in a calm, low voice, "You really don't have to do this. I would understand if you want to back out. There's lots of risk."
Peace that passes ALL understanding - at least that my feeble brain can comprehend - was with me. My Warrior was with me. My Hero! My Savior!
Too late, Mr! I have the peace of Jesus! You don't scare me!
As much as I wish I could have said this out loud, not sure it would have done anything for this man's soul, so instead I said, "I still want to. I'm ready when you are."
"Okay," he said. "Well, I'm going to go look at the pancreas while they are removing the liver and I'll see how it looks."
Ready. Set. And it was a go! Praise God! It makes me cry even now thinking about it. God's time IS perfect! Thirty-one years perfect to be exact. He knows what He's doing! Why do we ever doubt Him?

At around 7:45 am, the surgical and anesthesia teams had finished their shift change, everyone was bright eyed and bushy tailed and ready to go! On a Monday to beat it all, thank the Lord! Best time to have surgery! Right?
They started me on an insulin drip. I kissed my old, yet loyal friends the insulin pump and CGM goodbye forever, Lord willing. It was sort of bittersweet. They aided me to be healthy. I won't miss them, but I'll be forever thankful for the tools God has allowed man to invent that aided in being a healthier diabetic.

Whenever I was wheeled into surgery I told the person maneuvering the bed around that it smelled like a science lab. He chuckled and said, "Yes, it does!"

They aligned my bed beside the surgical table. I saw my surgeon and another man (the other surgeon) man-handling something in a large, pristine, metal bowl. It was the pancreas!
"Can I see it?," I asked, very curious.
One of the surgeons (with a smile I could see in his eyes) lifted it up so I could look at it. The glorious piece of clay that some precious person didn't need anymore and had so graciously gifted to me.
It was huge! I'm not a super skinny person, but good grief where were they gonna put that thing?!
The pancreas was white and was made up of these little nodules all over it. It looked like it was made up of those round bubble bath beads that melt and pour out some sort of smell-good fragrance when they get in hot bath water.
I think I said something like, "That is so cool."
I got on the surgical table and asked the nurse that would be watching me the duration of the surgery, if I could pray.
"Oh, yes!," she said.
I closed my eyes and prayed, quickly, but for each person in the room, for the procedure and that God would use this for His glory.
When I opened my eyes they were bustling all around me. Someone asked me if I was ready, they were going to, "put me out."
Yes, I was ready. I knew the Lord was there with me. I felt strange peace, contentment, happiness, a little humanistic worry, and especially relief.

I didn't care if I died. I wasn't scared. I guess I always knew I wouldn't, but there was always that possibility.

I think the last thing I said was something really stupid, like, "Thank you all so much," and I drifted toward unconsciousness or sleep or whatever happens when one is having surgery. Pssst! I don't think it's sleep... 😳 More on that later though.

I woke up about 3 1/2 to 4 hours later in ICU. There was a young man named Adam that would be my nurse during the day.
I woke up to Adam asking me how my pain was. When I roused into myself, I realized the pain was bad. It was as if I could feel every stitch and cut, every staple and muscle screaming at me. Help!
I tried winding myself into a ball and I saw his face turned worried.
"On a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the worst, what is it?"
"A 10! A 10!," I said, teeth clinched.
He ran out and a young woman nurse came in and tried to console me while he attended to my pain. "Do you want me to go get your family?," she said, running her hand down my face to console me.
"No!"
When I'm in pain, I just want to be left alone. I don't want people touching on me or fussing over me. Just make it stop! I hope I didn't push her hand away. She was being very kind.
After a few doses of elephant tranquilizers, my red hair got the idea who was boss and let the pain ease up a bit. 😄
Family came in and I kept falling asleep only to wake up 10 minutes later with my mouth gaping open, just like my daddy used to.
Why do I do that? I hate it! 😝

My beautiful sister in the Lord and former diabuddy, Kelby, came to visit and brought me a very stylish pair of pajama bottoms and a super soft robe to keep my decency.
Teresa and Chris were there the whole time during surgery and they were the family that came in as soon as my pain subsided for the most part. I remember seeing my pastor at one point and sticking my tongue out at him. It was my way of saying, "Yes, I'm okay." He worries about everybody.
Teresa is my angel. I love her. She hovered over me while she was there, making sure I was okay. Seriously, I love her to death. I would not have been able to do this without her!

Then I remember it being dark. Was it nighttime or evening or morning? I heard chatter and giggles to my right. I tried hard to see who it was. There was a doctor leaning against the inside doorframe with a bunch of giggling nurses. One in particular stood out because she was a little thing, but stood out tremendously with her hot pink scrubs. Was she trying to get the doctor's attention? ☺️

The next thing I remember is sort of cheeky, but it was super embarrassing. So is life. Sometimes embarrassing, horrible things happen and we have to deal with them the best way we know how.

Two transplant people came in. I believe it was either two doctors or one doctor and one nurse. I couldn't tell you what in the world they looked like if I stood face to face with them right this minute.
I remember the doctor walking in because I thought, "Wow. He really thinks he's something!" I could tell by the big, pearly-white smile, head held slightly too high and the way he strutted. He needed an award for being able to even walk so high off the ground. He wasn't anywhere near what he thought he was. Wish I had had enough sense to tell him.

He asked if he could see my staples. I moved the gown aside as my incision and staples are just above my belly button, around my belly button and down to the middle of my public bone.
He started massaging my right side - where they operated. His hands were warm on my swollen side and I'm going to be honest - it felt amazing! It took pressure off of my poor insides that had been cut to pieces.
"How does that feel?," he asked.
Honesty is wonderful, friends! We should always be honest. No matter how hard.
I was honest. I was honestly on s lot of medicine too. I hope all I said was, "It feels really good." Or maybe just the word "good."
His response makes me believe maybe I said how good it indeed did feel with a bit too much emphasis. Please don't let the devil work on your thoughts. I was in pain and it gave me some relief.
"That's why you have a husband," he said, with an evil smile, looking up at Chris, but continuing to massage my side. He knew he'd hit a nerve with the ladies in the room. A lot of men. Are. Pigs. I gave him a "you-think-you're-so-amazing-but-you-are-just-a-stupid-man-jerk-like-most-men" look.
I appreciated the support from the other doctor/nurse, as she too, gave him a disgusted look. How dare him! I was in ICU, hooked to a looming tower full of medicines dripping into my veins, remember the elephant tranquilizers? And my body was in shambles. Men! No!
As a woman, I wanted to leap out of that bed and show him what he really was, but as a Christian woman, I pray he finds Jesus!
We are in this world, but not of it!

Let's talk about the IVs and such now. When I woke up, I had an IV in my right hand, one in my left and a Jugular line that was stitched into the left side of my neck. I may have had one in my arm too, but one was taken out, along with the nose drain thing when I left ICU.
I was only in there the rest of my surgery day and that night. The next day (Tuesday) they moved me out of ICU into a regular room.
My beautiful mommy came later that day and I was so happy she was able to be with me!

Although the worst wasn't necessarily over, I was so relieved. I won't go into too much detail about the rest of my stay now, but I did meet some great nurses, got loads of love, and was determined to get out and be able to take a shower!

God was with me! There was one song I kept singing to myself over and over: Trust in You by Lauren Daigle. The battle wasn't and isn't mine - it's the Lord's.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=qv-SXz_exKE

Read my next entry for more on the transplant!

(no subject)

Wednesday, January 27th, at 10 pm I got a call from Duke offering a pancreas. The donor was in Virginia. I was skeptical at first because the transplant surgeon that I saw when I was being evaluated as a candidate, told me never to take one out of the state. After asking the coordinator, she reassured me it was in, "our backyard-very close."

I was SO excited! I hadn't gotten any calls since December 25th and, as I said before, it was the night of January 27th.

I want you to understand that this isn't just a waiting game when they call. It feels like a full blown production!

I feel better if the following things are in place (some obviously have to be and some don't): plan for the kids, does my mom have a ride down? I think I have to wait like six weeks and then I might be able to go out, but with a face mask, so I like to make sure everyone has had their hair cuts. It's one less thing to think about afterward. Lol!

Also, I like to have the house clean (it's a woman thing), kids have to be packed (does baby girl have all her medicines? She's allergic to everything. She has to have epi pens, special eczema lotions and soap), when and where are they going to be dropped off?

Like I've said before, two wonderful families have volunteered their precious time, but they can't be sick or I won't be able to see my kids after surgery. They obviously have to be available too.

This is just some personal things. This doesn't have anything to do with the pancreas. The stars have to be aligned (for a lack of better words and space), and God Himself has to say it's okay. Really. That's the God I serve, though. He is my Father who knows my heart and knows when the perfect time is, where the perfect pancreas is and when it will impact for His glory the most. So, it's a big deal-this pancreas transplant! For me, anyway... 😉

Any transplant is. In fact, it doesn't matter to God which child is sick. If one of His is sick, He knows. He has a plan!

The Bible (His word) says He has a plan for us whether we are sick or not. (Jeremiah 29:11, Romans 8:28, Jeremiah 1:5...)

Duke called again the next morning at around 9 am and then again around 11. It was actually my transplant coordinator this time. Her last day as a pre-transplant coordinator was Friday. I really like her and I hate to see her go, but every transplant coordinator has been nice, so I'm not too worried. I've actually talked to my new one a little bit.

With the second call, she informed me that I should plan on not eating after midnight that night and to be at Duke by 6 am the next morning.

I was so encouraged that this was IT! "You know, Lord!," I kept thinking to myself.

I did everything that needed to be done... just about. Cleaned, did laundry, kids didn't do school that day (they helped me and cleaned their room some), packed for them, dropped them off with the people they'd be staying with (would have to leave at 4 am to be at Duke by 6), sat down at the table to write notes to my mom and cousin (they were driving down the next day)...and...the phone rang.

Whether they are trained to have a certain tone in their voices or I'm just sensitive to people, this coordinator (which is the one I talked to first, the night before) said - with disappointment in her voice - after looking at the pancreas (I'm assuming through an ultrasound), that the Drs deemed it, "too fatty."

I've only really, really, really gotten my hopes up when I actually went to Duke and was 15 mins before going into surgery...and this time.

I've been called several times already, but I was so hoping this would be it! I was ready.

"Hope deferred, maketh the heart sick..." So true! Amen to that!

I asked Chris if I could just be alone. He let me. I cried. A lot! Not only was I disappointed that I wasn't going to be getting a working pancreas, but someone had died. They wanted (per the coordinator) to donate their whole body. Thank you, donor! You're heaven-sent to so many!

And their pancreas couldn't be used. They wanted to help and it sort of made me sad that it couldn't be used. It was their wish...their last wish.

I prayed. I sank. I had jumped out of the boat and looked away from the goal (Jesus). I sank in my tears. About 15 or 20 minutes later, I "looked" and Jesus was reaching out His hand and pulled me up, out of the water; out of the grief and self-pity.

A thought had come to me earlier that day in a moment of anxiety, "I didn't bring you this far to let you sink." Not sure if God told me this or if I'd heard it from someone else, but I held to it. God had not brought me this far in the process just to let go of me and let me sink.

I was the one that lost sight. I'm human and I was so, so disappointed. To the point I am feeling it still today (hope deferred maketh the heart sick-remember?).

After the initial shock and panic was over, I actually looked up the scripture. It's in Proverbs chapter 13. How beautiful the proverb writer says it, "Hope deferred maketh the heart sick: but when the desire cometh, it is a tree of life."
When! When! When? the desire cometh (hope, again), it is a tree of life" Wow! Yes! Amen!
When? God's time! Lord willing... In Jesus' name, amen! 😃
Thank you, God, for scripture, Your word!

What is something you are praying for? Can I help you pray for the desire that you are waiting for in God's time?

Thank the Lord!



Do you see this amazing creation? I ate it! Thank the Lord! Get this... I didn't throw up. Thank you, Lord, for allowing me to enjoy a nice, crunchy salad!

It contained lettuce, cucumber, a few raisins, radishes, tomato, strawberry (which wasn't very good together; I won't pair them anymore), some crunchy Chow Mein noodles, mozzarella cheese and Ranch).

In the past month, I've eaten about four or five salads. I haven't thrown up at all (remember the gastroparesis?).

This particular salad I did fine with. I have started taking my sweet time when I eat one. I chew the contents to death and eat just a small amount.

A couple of those salads I didn't do as good with. Although I didn't throw up, I did have some stomach pain. Like the sensation of feeling like someone punched me...sore and achy.

While I've never been punched in the stomach, I'm assuming it would feel the same way.

Don't get me wrong, it wasn't so bad I couldn't handle it. A couple times, I took regular Tylenol or Ibuprofen.

This time though, I was fine. No pain! Thank the Lord!

I absolutely love Wildfire Chicken Salad (minus the green onion and with grilled chicken and not fried) at Bob Evans! What's on your favorite salad?

God's time and waiting on the LORD

Oh my goodness! I'm so excited. I found the best scripture. Actually, I just needed it so badly right now. God is faithful!

Lamentations 3:25 & 26 say:
The LORD is good unto them that wait for him, to the soul that seeketh him.
It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the LORD.

Reading this made me think of the scripture in Psalms 27:14
Wait on the LORD: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the LORD.

Yes! Wait...on the LORD!
How hard is this sometimes?

I don't know how many times I have said "God's time" in the past nine or ten months, but it seems like a lot.

Waiting on God isn't always easy, but as we can tell from the scriptures above, God is pleased with us when we wait on Him-His directions, His salvation, His time.

It isn't only the transplant that I'm waiting for. There are things I'm asking and seeking God about and for that have nothing to do with a working pancreas or diabetes, for that matter.

I'm thinking some of these things I may not "get" even in this lifetime. No. I'm not talking about reincarnation. I don't mean God is going to answer my prayer when I come back from the dead. There may not be some things I even realize God took care of when I asked, until I'm in Heaven.

That's God's time. If it were up to me, it would be now! : )

I hate waiting. Patience is a virtue. If we study patience (which I have, some) then we can see that those exact verses aren't in the Bible but it's just fewer words.

Patience and waiting on the LORD obviously go hand in hand.

I'm so encouraged to know that God appreciates our patience enough to be good to us for it. What a blessing when God is good to us!

The scripture also mentions, "the soul that seeketh him." I think of the scripture in Psalms 37:4, "Delight thyself also in the LORD; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart".

I don't know about you, but there are things I desire. There are lost people that I want to be saved and there are things I want to see changed...

So, what do these two scriptures tell us? 1) Wait on the Lord, 2) seek Him, 3) Delight yourself in him. In essence, to me, this means to put Him first and everything will fall into place!

Thank the LORD!

The Fog

Written Tuesday January 13th:
My blood sugar is 44.
I'm writing this to keep my mind off dying! Maybe I wouldn't die. Pass out at the worst. Probably...

I'm crying and I'm tired. I'm tired. Thirty-one years of low blood sugars. Scared that it might be the one time that pushed my body to the limit and it succumbed.

Thirty-one years of high blood sugars, but now it's low
I can't think straight sometimes when it's low. Like, literally, I can't grasp whatever I'm supposed to do at all!

Normally, that's when I've been very low for a long period of time. (At this point, it's been about 10 mins.)

Low brain activity usually happens when blood sugars won't come up no matter if I eat Hershey, PA.

Those times are difficult! We all know what's coming next. (If you don't, you will).

I was low for two hours straight the other day. I think it was a combination of too much insulin that I bolused for food while I was still experiences lower levels, slow stomach issues and/or maybe my pancreas got scared again. It better be- Very scared!

When a low occurs (especially one that lasts for more than 20 mins), later it will raise significantly. I'm talking 300 or more! 😱

Lows that I experience make me sleepy as unto death. Let me explain...when I have lows sometimes, I could go to sleep and never wake up. Like the most peaceful, amazing sleep ever. Relaxed, not-a-care-in-the-world feelings!

Then I shiver. I don't care if it's 100 degrees outside, I. Am. Freezing! after a low. Anything like 40 and or below.

Normally to bring up low blood sugar, I drink juice-apple, grape, white grape, or fruit juice.
Today, I ate a banana with a little bit of icing because it was so low.

I'm just really sad because today is a busy day and unless I take a small nap, I'll never make it. I'll be so tired and never be able to accomplish anything. It's so absolutely frustrating.



The above I wrote at about 12 pm. It is now 4 and my son is at his violin lesson, so I can finish...

After writing the above and making sure my blood sugar was okay, I took a nap.

I get tired a lot easier now when my blood sugars drop. I have to take a nap or I can't function. Literally, can not function. I noticed this more so the past couple of years. It seems to be getting worse over time.

Even after getting up from my nap today, I was very foggy headed and probably could have slept at least a few more hours.

I did eat a hardy lunch after I woke up and that seemed to help, but it took an hour or two to come out of the fog.

What causes you to have foggy-headed days?