Monday, November 29, 2010

Cliche # 2: "Don't Panic"

Have you ever noticed that people typically say "don't panic," right before they give you something to panic about? Think about it, how often is the phrase "don't panic" followed by good news. Not all that often... Usually, in fact, hearing "don't panic" is more upsetting that the news itself. "Don't panic" causes panic. (Does that mean it should be paradox #1, instead of cliche #2... eh.... either way...). "Don't panic" is counterproductive. It's the "we need to talk" phrase of life outside of break ups. Basically, it should just be avoided at all costs.

Sometimes... and hopefully those times are few and far between... something that really seems panic-worthy is going on. Something that feels so big and terrifying that, despite your best efforts to pray, panicking is just easier. Stress cleaning and being cranky and withdrawn and crying over the stupidest things and eating A LOT  somehow becomes the more viable option to trusting Jesus.

That's where I am today.... going home for Thanksgiving was great, but it also opened the floodgates of fear. 5 solid days with my mom made it all the more real that in less than a week, surgery will be happening. As much as I try to convince myself that one week from now, it will all be over and my mom will be fine and the aneurysms will be gone and everything will be okay.... it's starting to become harder and harder to block out the other side of things.... the side that taunts me with fears that I will never again get to argue with my mom over how the Nativity pieces should be placed, or that I won't have a mom to tease about the ridiculous amount of food she buys/prepares/immediately cleans up whenever company is around, or that I won't have a mom to make me breakfast casserole, or.... you get the point.

I am panicking. The breakdown has begun. My mom and I stood in her bathroom this weekend and just sobbed. She kept saying all of these wonderful things, and I just couldn't say anything back. She just has to be ok. There IS no other alternative right now. I can't face that, and yet... it's always there... lurking. It feels like panic is my current and constant companion.

But, the thing of it is... I KNOW Jesus is bigger than this. I know that He is bigger than the anuerysm, than the surgery, even than the potential loss of my mom. Jesus is bigger than the reason for the panic and than the panic itself. I just don't know how to cling to that right now. I don't know how to live in that reality moment by moment.  

I keep thinking that in about 10 days I am going to read back through this and kick myself for being such an idiot and making such a big deal out of this when everything turned out just fine. I'm really ok with that - really, really ok with that. In fact, I'm praying for it. I'm praying that, once again, God reminds me that He is in control, that He is trustworthy, and that, in the end, panicking is just another way of blocking Him out of my life so I can continue my futile efforts to maintain control (of myself and everyone around me). Would you pray that with me? Would you pray that I would look every bit the fool when my mom wakes up, just fine, and my family is a part of another gracious act from a God who can do miracles?


The What's Going On Update:

Mom goes up to St. Louis tomorrow for pre-testing. Not really sure what all that entails, but I think they'll select the artery to graft (either from her arm or her leg) and some of that kind of stuff. Then, on Wednesday, she will have a microscopic angiogram. Apparently, there is an artery coming out of the aneurysm that has an unknown destination. Not a good thing when you are about to cut off blood flow, since the artery could be important. The docs are going to take a look at it to see where it goes, and then they will determine their approach to the surgery from there. It's all a bit scary, as this throws a new dynamic into the mix. I am trying to focus on my mom's point that it's good that the docs caught it and want to check it out to be cautious. In the meantime, though, it means that she has to spend the night in St. Louis and that she has to have general anesthesia again. Boo.

Things to pray for for tomorrow and Wednsday:
- That testing would go well and the docs would have a clear understanding of what to do/how to approach the aneurysm
- That the angiogram (anesthesia, etc.) will go well with no vasovagal reactions, they will be able to use a plug so mom doesn't have to lie still for 6 hours and potentially spend another night in St. Louis so close to the surgery, and that the docs will find what they are looking for
-Peace. Just loads and loads of peace for my family.

Thanks!

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Cliche #1: Starting A Blog

I have never considered myself "trendy." I am usually behind the times, and don't realize something is cool until it's not all that cool anymore. It took me years (and yes, I mean years) to start a xanga (oh yes, remember those), and by the time I had mine up and going, everyone else was deleting their account. Story of my life.

I like to think of myself as "classic." It sounds way better than "lame."

But... as behind the times as I may usually be, I am trying to jump on this bandwagon sooner rather than later. I have decided that I, like many of my dear friends, need an outlet. I need a place where I can write down things that matter, things that don't, thoughts that I have, feelings that I am struggling with.... so, thus... a blog.

Here's the thing: I am starting this blog primarily because my mom has to have pretty major surgery in a couple of weeks. And, the truth is... I need to find a balance between being honest about how I'm feeling (I'm freaking out) and emotionally vomiting on all of the wonderful, supportive people who ask how I am.

So... this blog, at least for a while, will be my emotional vomit. If you want to know what's REALLY going on, please feel free to read it. But, understand - I am going to try not to "edit" myself on here. I go through the day saying, "I'm doing okay" and only partially meaning it, so I need a place to say "I'm terrified, and I'm hurting, and I don't know what to do with all of the conflicting thoughts rolling around in my head." And, I need a place to say "surgery went _______, next steps" are, so that everyone who cares to know, can know.

Well, that's my caviat.

It is my hope and my constant prayer than in about two months, my mom will be back to being the amazingly energetic and overly committed lady that she is, so that I can get down to writing about things like "already/not yet," and "I don't meant to be rude, but *insert insult here*," (hence the title).

Until then, thanks for caring enough to figuratively "hold back my hair." I honestly couldn't ask for a better support system.