Journey to Health

Journey to Health –  We are never alone

When I last 6F6A3033wrote about my Journey to Health, I left you with me returning to the hospital intensive care unit and smelling like hell on earth. I’ve been a prayer warrior since having teenagers but this experience drew me closer and closer to our Savior. Thinking about it now, I am still surprised how well I handled all the setbacks and pain. I believe it was only through the power of Christ that I endured.

I stayed in the ICU for a day and then moved to the unit floor. The staff here was good and met my needs even if I was at the opposite end of the hall from the nurse’s station.

My day consisted of trying to swallow crushed pills, changing IV’s, to prevent blood clots walking the halls and trying not to expose any of my bits while being hooked up to an IV pole. Then of course there were several times a day the wound needed to be repacked. The skin all over my stomach was raw from the tape, bandages and surgery sites. The other five small incisions were doing just fine. My stomach was bruised from the Lovenox shots (to prevent blood clots) and the rash that was growing worse every hour. I had to be given more medications to help with the intense itching. It didn’t help heal the rash itself.

Tying to take a shower while stuff was oozing from the infection was a test of my ability not to smell death. Okay, I wasn’t dying but it smelled like it. I felt blessed that the shower had a seat. I was so weak I could not have stood that long. Getting wet and washing my hair felt like I had not totally lost my grip on reality. Have you ever noticed, time just seems to be different when you are in the hospital or in pain?

While all this was going on, God was still at work using me to fellowship and mentor. God is so amazing!

The nurses and staff were not extremely busy. Most of my time as an inpatient there were few patients on the ward.  The staff often came into my room to chat and I would ask about their lives. Each needed some loving attention of their own. I was so grateful for each of the staff.

My surgeon came to check on my twice a day and did his sharing of poking the infected incision. Before my surgery I had only seen him three times. The first day I was on the ward I was told he would need to open up the wound to get the infection out. Truthfully, I was scared.

What do you do when you are scared and completely out of your element?


That’s what I did. Also, I had my iPhone and Pandora radio. I didn’t have earbuds so I put my phone on my shoulder and quietly listened to Christian praise music. Each song and lyrics God used to soothe my fears and remind me I was never alone.

The surgeon came in and I asked if I could still keep the music on while he did the procedure. He said “of course”. I was relieved. I felt I needed to fill every space around me with God’s presence. I closed my eyes and prayed while the surgeon, nurse practitioner and the RN prepared for the procedure.

The next thing I hear is my surgeon say, “that is one of my favorite songs.” And then he starts singing the praise song. I felt at that moment God showed me He had his hand on my surgeon and I could rest. I relaxed and then I heard two more voices blending with the surgeon. Both of the nurses were singing too. Knowing I was with my brother and sisters-in-Christ, my spirit soared

God is in the details of our lives. I had no idea these three special people loved the Lord and doing the Father’s work.



March 24,2016

Roadblock to Health

Journeyare you walking the walk to Health – January 28, 2016

It has been a little over ten weeks since my bariatric by-pass surgery. The recovery didn’t go quite as expected.  Twenty to thirty percent of people will get an infection.  The surgeon has to pull a very large tool through the bowel and it can cause an infection. Not wanting to be left out, I guess, my body decided to get an infection in a really big way.

My surgery was on November 17 2015.  I came home late on November 19th, the day before my thirty-second wedding anniversary. By Sunday, I was not doing well. Pain in the left side of my abdomen, extreme nausea, the largest incision was red hot and looking very angry. We can’t forget the rash. Oh my, it was over my entire torso. It looked bad. Late that evening I began to heave, a lot. Nothing was in my egg-sized pouch-of-a-stomach.  I struggled through Sunday and early Monday morning called the surgery clinic. They told me come in around 10:00am. I went back to bed to try and get some rest.

At 9:00 am I got up and went to the bathroom and then began to smell the worse smell I have ever encountered. I thought it was my urine. As I looked down, I saw that my incision had burst open and gross stuff was pouring out. I started gagging. I ran out of the bathroom onto the nearby back porch trying to get away from the smell. No way. The smell wasn’t in the room. The smell was me. Oh my word.

My hubby, Seth heard the commotion and came running to my aid. Bless his heart, he had no inkling of the horrible smell or sight he would see.  Between the two of us we got it bandaged up and I got dressed to go to the surgery clinic. The entire drive was awful with the smell invading our orifices. I was embarrassed, scared and in pain.

I prayed. Seth prayed. I continued to pray.

Seth drove. Seth drove quickly.

I prayed that I wouldn’t have to sit out in the waiting room. I prayed the room where I would wait would have a comfortable big chair. I could barely sit. I just wanted to lay down and stop smelling like the foulest thing you can ever imagine. I believe I now know how hell must smell.  The nurses were wonderful. They rushed me right back into the care room. The chair was big and the music playing over the speakers were all songs from the 70’s, I loved that part.  We were in that room for five hours before a bed/room was ready for me in the ICU.

My journey to health had definitely hit a major roadblock. I had no idea how far off track this journey would go.