Doctors Update

Sam's fevers have gone.

He is brighter this afternoon.

And so am I after a little nap.

His GP has diagnosed that in addition to his school sore he also has a throat infection.  Praise God it's not something worse!

Sam will stay on low dose antibiotics up until he has his cardiac catheter.

I have called the hospital to let them know and they are going to get back to me early next week to make sure that plan is OK. 

I pray that is it.

There is nothing else I can do.

It is all in God's hands thankfully.

Outside I am calm, inside I feel like I am running a marathon.

Outside I am quiet and thoughtful, inside I am imploding.

You know that feeling of when you close your eyes lay down and it feels like the house is shaking.

Time to be still and know that He is God.

Carrying my Chains

There are so many chains that hold us back and bind us up.  Everyone's chains are different at different times of their lives, in an effort to keep them from being truly free and unhindered by what surrounds them.  Here are some of the chains that bind me at times, maybe you have also carried their weight.

Anxiety

FEAR

Rebellion

CONFUSION

Melancholy

The chains are constricting, life sucking.  They hold you back from leaping into life and love.  They make you nervous and unsure of yourself and who you really are.  They are not godly and if you truly want to live life the way God intended; they have to go.  Identifying the chains is easy it's what comes next that is so hard....

When you know Jesus, you simply ask him to break the chains that bind you.  He literally sets us free by breaking the chains that bind us, loosening the hold they have over our lives.  Just getting to that point can be hard, because if you ask for help you are weak right?  Need a crutch to get through life?  I have learned to get over that.  I ask for help easily, because I know that trying to break those chains in my own strength will only get me more tangled and bound.

However...

Even after we are set free from our chains we can still choose to carry them around.  You heard me. What's binding us is broken and we have a choice to be free, but we choose to carry around the chain.  It drags heavy and weighs us down but we hold onto it because in an odd and disconcerting way, it has become comfortable and famliar to us to be fearful, to rebel, to be confused, to be a bit down.  So instead of casting that chain off completely and diving back into life, we hang back with what we know, giving that chain another opportunity to draw tight once again. 

I know.

I've been there.

I'm still doing it,

but that doesn't make it right.

You see Jesus makes a way, but we still have the choice to live in bondage, or in the fullness of life.

So today I have asked God to break the chains once again and I am casting those chains off, because they are holding me back, stopping me from doing things I love. Holding me back from reaching my goals and restricting me from loving those around me like I should.

I don't have time for chains with what we have to face in the next few months.  I am gong to need every bit or strength I have and then some. Goodbye chains, hello freedom.

I Don't Want To Be A Heart Kid

It was Sam's last day at Kindy today before we head to Brisbane for his catheter and impending surgery.  He has finished two weeks early so that any bugs he picks up have a chance to leave before hospital.  In the month that he has attended Kindy he has had gastro and a slight head cold. He had a very fun last day and his teachers made him a card with photos that he is going to take to the hospital with him, to remind him that will go back to Kindy once it is all over.

So bravely today he waved goodbye to his class, telling them that he was going to have his test and he would be back one day soon and he would have a flat chest like his brother Jack (we have only told him this once and he is really stuck on it).  At home this afternoon he told me that he doesn't want to be a heart kid, just a normal kid.  What do you say to that?  I can try to encourage him that heart kids are wonderful, but both of us know that it would be better if his heart was normal.  So I didn't lie, just gave him a smile and a hug, and told him, 'I know mate'. I can't tell you how many other answers flashed through my mind before I settled on that one.  It is what it is, nothing more.

Tomorrow we drive the hour or so to Barcaldine for Sam to see the public dentist to have a pre-operative dental check up. They only visit Longreach once every six weeks or so.  Jack is having the day off from school and we are making a day trip of it. 

Gran Watson is arriving in two weeks to be here with Don and Jack when Sam and I fly out.  It all seems a little too real now. One day at a time...one foot in front of the other.

How do I feel? Anxious at times, due to what I know is coming, and not knowing how it is all going to pan out.  Relieved because the wait is almost over.  Focused to the point where it sits continually in the back of my mind, while the rest of me does the day to day.  Humble to know that I don't have any control and just have to trust that God has got it all covered. And in the meantime I try to gather enthusiasm to complete this Avon campaign, celebrate Don's birthday and try to conversate with others when my mind has trouble keeping up with my mouth. So forgive me if I seem vague at times.  It's just me trying to deal with life as I know it.

Ahhhhhhh! 18 days becomes 46.

This afternoon we received the call from the Mater Hospital to tell us that Sam's catheter and surgery have been postponed for a month, until the 20th March.  How do I feel about that?  In all honesty a little bit frustrated, sick, weary and guilty. 

Frustrated because it means I have told the kids way too early. Because we have to re-organise everything-flights accommodation, family and people helping us out.

Sick and weary because we have to wait yet another month for some finality, for this long and drawn out time to come to an end. Of having the anxiety plague me and because I feel like I've forgotten how to have fun and just relax.

Guilty for being so selfish, to just want it all over and done with.  How horrible is it that I want Sam to endure the pain of surgery and upset, just so that we can go on with some sort or 'normal' life?  (Inser hysterical laugh here)he just wants to go to Kindy and  have fun.  Guilty because I see others around us going through much worse and I feel like I have no reason to complain.

If I was to let how I feel consume me, I would be just that-consumed. So instead I repeat:

Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and live righteously, and he will give you everything you need. (Mat 6:33)

I have to believe it.  I have to believe Him or else I won't make it.  It's simple really it's God's promises to us, that stop me from drinking red wine until I am oblivious. It's God's promises that keep me from eating the IGA out of dark chocolate and it is God's promises that cause me to smile when I should be crying and curled up in a corner. That is all for now.

Anxiety Is Not My Friend

Anxiety and stress are sneaky and almost undetectable until you are in their grasp.  I haven't been sleeping well for the last two weeks and it is beginning to show.  It has been warm at nights, and I am sleeping lightly.  I wake many times a night and find that I am clenching my jaw then wake with headaches each day. I already have cracked molars that need fixing, due to stress and cannot afford to have them fixed.  So I am concerned about doing more damage unintentionally. The tension in my neck and shoulders is unmistakable and food has become bland and un-enjoyable. 

It's not like I am laying awake in bed and panicking over Sam's upcoming surgery it is a more sinister and underlying form of anxiety, that seems to be thwarting my attempts at any kind of rest.  As I cover Jack's books for school I am worried about how he is going to go in this first term of year one, with so much disruption.  I feel like I am not going to be there for him, when he needs me and that I am going to miss out on things because we will be apart. 

Last night at about 2.30 as I lay awake the jumble of thoughts that hide in the recesses of my mind throughout the day, come out to play.  I think about the catheter and the fact that Sam's previous stroke was triggered by a clot from the scar tissue in his heart.  What if the catheter dislodges more such clots?  What if the catheter goes wrong and stimulates cardiac arrest? All of these are possibilities. 

How long will we have to wait to know if Sam is a candidate for the Fontan?  Will he need the additional stents in his lung arteries? What does that mean for his blood thinning meds?  I don't want him to be on warfarin forever. These are the thoughts that plague the dark hours of the night for me. And then I pray and try to sleep, flitting between the conscious and somewhere just outside of sleep.

All of this means that I am less the Mum I need to be during the daylight hours.  I am short in temper, and not a whole lot of fun, which causes me to feel even more guilty for not enjoying the time I have with my boys now. 

It my all seem silly to you, but I need your help.  I need you to pray for me before you go to sleep tonight.  That I will know peace and sleep in a very intimate way, because as of late we are mere acquaintances.

I know that God hears me call out to Him, I am just weary of the battle and was hoping that someone might add their voice to mine. x