A Blep Week - with Thanksgiving

Blep [blˈɛp] the perfect word for this week. It normally means when an animal's tongue sticks out of their mouth when their mouth is closed. But in our house, it has come to be first an exclamation of "I've really had enough of this/ I'm tired/ Ugh!" And this week has been full of that sentiment - enough so Jasmin began personifying blep in sketches on her math pages...

Saturday Jasmin and Mom left at 11:20am for what was supposed to be a relatively quick errand. Because it was expected to be quick, they took no water, snacks, or things to do. Five hours later they returned. Not how anyone wants to spend Saturday!  But the errand is done and we only have to repeat the process once more. I'm thinking we'll avoid Saturdays next time...

1. We were successful despite crazy wait times and convoluted processes.
2. Mom and Jasmin were together so had someone to talk to and could problem solve together.

Monday's MRI results were highly unsatisfactory. Not for being undefined or inconclusive, but rather because the results were "You have somewhat advanced degenerative disk disease with some nerve impingement (as in, this part of your spine looks like you're 60+). It is irreversible and there isn't anything we can do about it until the pain is unmanageable." And all the suggestions given for improving the situation and putting off seemingly inevitable pain I'm already doing. So good for me (for already doing all the right things) and not good for me (that there isn't something more concrete I could do to slow down the inevitable). Blep. And yet, thanksgiving:

3. Clear results.
4. I'm not in pain despite evidence of nerve impingement.
5. Treatment will not infringe on our upcoming holiday.
6. I've been doing the right things.

Tuesday I ended up going again to the hospital to decipher why the CD of my MRI appeared blank at home. Blep. Another trip out, wasting the better part of an afternoon. But, I was taken seriously and courteously helped to figure out the problem. Another type of CD was burned for me free of charge when it was predicted my DVD player couldn't read the correct format. So I was successful.

7. Ease of travel, despite pandemic rules and no car of our own.
8. I didn't have to push for help, but was willingly helped to find the problem and a workable solution even though it was my hardware that was the problem.
9. Success.

Wednesday was math wrangling. Both Jasmin and Aiden are part of a pilot project for a revamped math curriculum. It has been a rocky start as it is VERY different than what we know and love. After a page full of newly minted cute blep sketches and more confusion than understanding yet again, we came to the conclusion Wednesday that the revamped material not worth the continued fight for Jasmin. Blep. 

10. Frustration came out in creative sketching not bad attitude.
11. We had a math curriculum in reserve for just this scenario.
12. Jasmin's personified bleps are cute! She even animated one

Thursday was just a grey day inside and out. Blep.

13. We have a holiday to look forward to.
14. News that we are now allowed to have visitors so we can resume in-person music lessons after our holiday.

Thanksgiving Thoughts - Grace

 It's All An Amazing Gift

It's all an amazing gift of grace
A gift — that we could even run this race
We couldn't run to the holy place
So God has given us the gift of grace

It's all an amazing gift of love
That Jesus Himself left the honor above
Allowing Himself to be scourged, mocked and shoved
In God's sacrificial gift of love

It's all an amazing gift of good
The Jesus, the Righteous, unblemished, stood
And took both the standard and curse we could
Not reach, giving us His gift of good

It's all an amazing gift of peace
To know all our striving now may cease
And from every sin we've been released
Since God has given us the gift of peace

It's all an amazing gift of rest
For Jesus will stand with us through the tests
By Him, overcomers will be blessed
We trust in our God; His gift of rest

It's all an amazing gift of faith
That if we believe Jesus died and was raised
We can enter into the Father's embrace
Accepted as righteous by God's gift of faith

It's all an amazing gift of hope
In Him we overcome, we don't just cope
For Jesus has won and will bring us home
This promise is God's clear gift of hope

It's all an amazing gift of joy
Our God's got a plan He will employ
And one day what's evil will be destroyed
Then we'll be with God — His gift of joy!

It's all an amazing gift of life
Still renewed, day by day, gifted strength through the strife
And being made perfect to be His wife
Forever with God, Christ's gift of life!

12 years ago and this week

 Twelve years ago I lived through an experience I'd rather not have to live through again.  At the same time, it is kinda fun to reminisce about all the crazy absurdities of that time and the lessons God taught me. May I tell you?

I was mothering a one year old and a two year old (one with dietary issues)
Moving across the world from Cambodia to Canada (on a bankrupted airline, no less)
    It was for a short home assignment -- originally
Switching family jobs from IT director to youth pastor
Settling into Canada (and a different home province) after 2 years away
Moving house twice in the first 6 months

All the while suffering from a severely herniated disk, getting surgery, and attempting recovery.

Why do I bring this up now, after such a long time of pain free good mobility? Because in the last weeks I noticed a numb left toe... 

The first inkling something was wrong last time (though I didn't recognize it that time) was a numb patch on the top of my right foot. So we prayed over my numb toe, I exchanged my more vigorous exercise for lower back physio stretches, tried to be more conscious of sitting and standing well...

And this week I noticed a pulling sensation up the inside of my calf when I walked. A quick test confirmed that the numbness is climbing up my leg. So I went to the doctor, who simply referred me to a spinal surgeon. He suggested that I dig up medical records of my last back surgery to give the surgeon. We don't have those records, but I did spend an afternoon browsing all my blogposts of 12 years ago piecing together a timeline of what happened. That is what spurred me to write this post.

Wow, young me. Rereading those posts meant reliving almost, and it wasn't fun at all. But I also see the numerous quiet impossibilities that God wove in to the story, and I remember the in-my-face lessons He taught me too. So, while I sincerely hope I am not embarking on another 6 months to a year of intense pain, surgery, physio, and disability, I am looking forward to what impossibilities God will weave into the story I'm walking and what more I will learn of Him and of myself in His story.

I saw the surgeon yesterday. After a few strength tests (the results of which we both know were plainly indicative of nerve impingement), he sent me for an MRI. I had a 2 hour wait, but with nowhere to go (too far from home) I simply went to that department and checked in. The secretary was a little confused why I was there so early, but after she understood, she worked to get me in early, so in the end I did not have long to wait at all.  My experience was much more friendly than last time in that the department was not nearly deserted and I was given directions at every step. The technician even joked with me apologetically about the dinosaur machine he was still using and how loud it was.  It was loud. Even with ear plugs and foam padding around the head, the noise was all you could think about. Sadly, the machine did not admonish me to praise God like last time either. Although I listened carefully, I could not hear anything in the machine's noise except once a frustrated yip/bark that sounded like something Jasmin would do when frustrated with schoolwork.

Now I wait for what will come next. There is apprehension, to be sure, but more than that, peace and curiosity as to what God is up to in this story of mine. Already I can say thank you that:
1) I noticed the numbness early and understood it's significance
2) I am not in pain!
3) No long waits for doctor visits or MRI
4) Costs so far are comparatively minimal
5) We can swallow the costs easily at this point
6) Movement and activity are not restricted - no change in daily life so far
7) We live somewhere good, trustworthy medical care is readily available

Dreaming of... November

Who ever dreams of November?!? 
We are.
In the perpetual summer of the tropics we don't have to worry about winter's cold, grey skies, frozen mud, darkening mornings... November.

November for us means:
we can go swimming again in the condo pool - more than walking or running for exercise!
we can eat out again - better than buying food and eating on the roadside or taking it home
have dates again - tough to come by anyway, but no more excuses
be out together as a family - super rare these last two years
go on holiday.

Holiday. Our last trip further than 20km from home was over 2 years ago. We've been seriously needing a true rest away from home for over 10 months. The last time we've been able to go to church was Christmas (or was it Easter?). Now it is tantalizingly close - dreaming with anticipation close - as long as current new rules don't change, a holiday away is actually possible!

So this week there has been lots of excited chatter and dreaming. Not of where to go - that is restricted to only one tourist destination open - but of what to do there and memories of travel and holidays...
Fueled by research on what is actually open
What the COVID restrictions might be
Where to stay
How long can we afford to stay (cost, school work, pets)
What attractions are worth the cost
How to get there

Dreaming. Something to look forward to beyond the daily routines, what a treat! Something so big, a wondrous gift! What a privilege! 

May we always see it that way and give thanks exuberantly.