True Love Travels On A Gravel Road

I made the mistake today, of researching the divorce rate among couples who deal with a chronic illness or chronic pain.  What I found, was staggering.  There is a 75% divorce rate among those who are dealing with a chronic illness.  75%.  That is almost unreal to me.

I'm not gonna lie, that number scared me.  It also made me really sad.  When a couple marries, they think that their spouse is their best friend.  They think that they will always be able to count on their spouse, to turn to if something's wrong.  To see how high the divorce rate is in this group, almost cripples me.  My heart is breaking to think of the hurt, betrayal, anguish and tears that the chronically ill person must feel when their spouse tells them that they want out, because they became sick.

I can't really understand fully how it must be for him. To go from having a life-long companion, to having to help take care of someone who's sick every single day.  I know this can't be easy for him.  Chronic pain does not just hurt me.  I know it is difficult for my husband to watch me suffer.  I know when I hurt, he hurts too.   I know he has days when he feels tired, defeated, angry and overwhelmed. 

It can be difficult to watch a loved one suffer from pain.  Some important things to keep in mind:

Believe your loved one’s report of pain.

Pay attention to the signs that indicate your loved one might be in pain.  These may include:

Facial expressions, such as grimacing

Breathing and sighing heavily

Unusual body movements, such as favoring a limb or limping

Behavioral changes, such as not wanting to eat or sleep

Emotional changes such as crying or irritability

How can the spouses of chronic pain patients help? The most important thing that a spouse of someone with chronic pain can do is be a best friend. What is the best thing about a best friend? A best friend listens without complaining and allows the person in chronic pain to vent. Being able to share honestly about how the pain is affecting both the patient and the spouse is crucial to open communication. Open communication is important for the patient to feel understood by their spouse. Likewise, the spouse needs to be free to express his/her frustration at not being able to control the circumstances of chronic pain. Working out problems in a setting where chronic pain can seem overwhelming goes a long way to keeping a marriage intact.

Spouses of chronic pain patients can help by being supportive in many practical ways. A spouse can be a second set of eyes and ears at doctor visits and can advocate when necessary for their husband or wife. A spouse can support the need for therapies that the patient deems beneficial for themselves through financial support and encouragement to follow through with treatment. They can encourage self-treatment by providing the optimal atmosphere to accomplish the type of self-treatment that the patient needs to follow.

Spouses of chronic pain patients can provide childcare or do tasks that the chronic pain patient cannot do or that the patient has difficulty doing in order to give him/her time to rest and heal. Spouses can drive patients to therapy and doctor appointments and do household tasks such as washing and drying dishes, laundry, vacuuming and any task that triggers pain. Rest and healing is important for a spouse of a chronic pain patient as well. Therefore, spouses should be sure to take good care of their health through good nutrition, exercise, rest, and breaks from care giving.

How else can the spouses of chronic pain patients help? They can help by encouraging and being encouraged in a personal relationship with God through Jesus Christ. Praying for the chronic pain patient and sharing the Word of God together is essential for the patient and the spouse.  He prays for me.  Constantly.  I’d like to see the research for the divorce rate amongst couples who pray through chronic pain vs. those who don’t.  I believe in the 25% rate. 

Ya know what else helps?  Flowers, chocolate, love notes…things like that.  I got flowers this week just because and wow does that ever lift a gal’s spirit, chronic pain, or not! 

 Thanksgiving was a rollercoaster, emotionally and physically. The morning we left I had a therapy treatment and had my back taped to help me make it through the week.  Unfortunately, the car ride caused a flare up of intense pain and I had to get a narcotic shot.  That helped me make it through the rest of the week.  I threw a football with the kids, (against the better judgment of the hubby) and I didn’t care if I would pay for it the next day.  I played with my best friend’s toddler and I knew I may be sore later, but the truth is, it always hurts.  I didn’t want to watch life pass me by.  The shot helped take the edge off and helped me feel a little better, so I embraced life and loved every second of it.   Baking, football, pudgy kisses, nieces hairdos and all!

Just Pretend

We like to serve others from the power position. We’d rather be healthy, wealthy, and wise as we reach out to the sick, poor, and ignorant. But people see and hear the gospel best when it comes through those who have known difficulty. Paul says, “To the weak I became weak, to win the weak”. Suffering creates a sphere of influence for Christ that we couldn’t otherwise have."  Randy Alcorn

Looking back, I don’t know what I was thinking.  I overestimated my supermom, super-wife status and I ended up overdoing it, repeatedly.  My friends and family would see what I am going through and ask if they can help, or bring dinner, or do anything at all and my initial reaction and response was to thank them, but politely refuse.  Usually, if a person asks if they can help, they sincerely want to.  Why is it so hard for this recovering perfectionist to accept help? 

I realized it’s a heart issue.  My pride was getting in the way. Pride and fear can be very dangerous.  It was keeping me from getting what God was trying to hand me on a silver platter!  Fear was telling me that people would look at me differently just because I needed help.  It isolated me as I hid from others the struggle I was going through.  It made me live a life in need.  I shouldn’t have isolated myself from others because God could’ve been using others to help me.   How selfish and uncaring for me to deny those closest to me the opportunity to exhibit acts of ultimate friendship and personal satisfaction. 

Before his downfall a man’s heart is proud, but humility comes before honor. Proverbs 18:12

 My patented response was always, “I’m fine. I have everything under control.”Translated, what I was really saying is, “I’m too proud to tell you, and I’m too proud to ask.”

I wish I could go back and just tell myself it is okay to say yes.  It’s okay to admit you’re not okay.  I was afraid my need would become neediness.  I was afraid I’d become a nuisance.  I didn’t want to appear less than capable.  Now I realize I am going to need a lot of help in this battle, so I have to learn to start accepting help. Even superheroes have sidekicks! I don’t want to rob others of the blessing they receive in helping me.  I am already finding lots of ways to pay it forward, and when I do, I can’t wait for it the blessing to be doubled because I know what it means to have received.

Love your well-being more than your self-image and be willing to get help when needed. "Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and He will lift you up" (James 4:10), let God help you. So many prayers can be answered if we’d just be willing to let pride go and accept help. Many think getting help is a sign of weakness. I think getting help is a sign of strength because you’re willing to do what’s necessary to better yourself. It always amazes me how God sends the exact people to help at the right time. Everybody needs some type of help at some point in life and that’s ok, that‘s life and it’s hard sometimes.  We weren't meant to do it all alone. God loves you and will continue to show love by meeting your need. So keep moving forward. Regardless of how God meets your needs, accept the help God sends and stay encouraged.

Latest update:  A friend of mine told me about a doctor who performs airrosti therapy.  Although skeptical, I gave it an attempt. (Let’s be realistic, if I was told I had to stand on my head while eating peanut butter for even 10% pain relief, I’d give it a shot.) This treatment is meant to mobilize the soft tissues and joints through a hands-on approach. This doctor is phenomenal.  He actually told me if I am not better after two visits that he would send me to someone else who would try and help me.  He also suggested I attend a healing service.  Say what?  Have you ever heard a doctor utter those words?  Well, this gave me some much needed reprieve.  I was able to sleep and only woke one time.  The knives have been removed.  I will keep you posted as to how my next appt goes.  I realized I felt better when I caught myself humming!

http://www.airrosti.com/whatisairrosti.php

Let Yourself Go

My last procedure was almost a week ago and it was a joke but I am not amused.  The pain never fully went away but it decreased for four days.  The stabbing pain was considerably better.  After four days, the knives were back in my neck and I was back to square one.  I remain disenchanted, wondering if it’s too soon for results. Follow up with the doctor Nov. 27^th.  Time for a lobotomy…

Does the thought of another holiday season fill you with joyful anticipation or overwhelm you with fear and dread? The average person considers the holidays at least somewhat stressful.  For those with chronic pain who are already struggling trying to deal with daily life in general, the added demands and stresses of the holidays can be vicious.

The holidays can be a recipe for double disaster-the increase in activity may exacerbate physical symptoms, while coping with sadness, frustration, and maybe even guilt about physical limitations gives rise to emotional pain.  Sometimes I dread the approaching holidays. 

Although I don’t always look sick, my goal this year is to make my condition visible.  (Time for the stoplight on my forehead) I’ve already given my family a heads-up on what to expect from me during the holidays. This lets them know in advance how to plan but most importantly, it keeps me accountable with my people pleasing tendencies. With traveling in the mix, the car ride tends to aggravate symptoms and the unpredictability of my condition means I never know for sure how I’ll feel on any given day of the actual gatherings. 

While I realize I cannot avoid all stress, the holidays are going to look and feel different this year.  This year I am giving myself a G.I.F.T. 

G – Guilt, get out!

When I fail to live up to expectations for myself, guilt is born. Every year I am bombarded with a magical storybook paradigm of the idyllic holiday scene. I love Christmas, especially the music, decorations, parties, lights and smells.   My Cinderella Christmas is complete with family, friends, food and festivities, encompassed in a spirit of peace and goodwill for all.

This year, Cinderella is not attending the holiday ball.  It’s time for a reality check.  The fact is, I have chronic pain and that limits what and how much I can do.  It is time to stop blaming myself because I cannot provide the elaborate holiday festivities that I once did or because I can’t do everything I THINK my family expects me to.  There are many ways to express my feelings without damaging my body in the process.  If less than half my decorations get up or I miss a friend’s party because I am in too much pain, I have to let it go.  The pressure is within me to have the perfect Norman Rockwell Christmas.  Christmas isn’t about perfection.  It’s about celebrating the birth of our Savior who came to save us because we are not perfect.  What a relief.  I am choosing to be joyful with whatever Christmas we have. 

I-Importance of immediate family

I am deciding which aspects of the holidays are most important to my immediate family.  I am focusing on those things and letting everything else go.  My inner ocd is hyperactive right now as the Christmas tree is the only light on in this room.  Without my sweet boys, I wouldn’t have a tree up at all this year.  They assembled and decorated (with their own stylish flair) the tree this year.  I decided this is one thing I had to let go.  Typically, my Christmas’ are on crack. Decorating is one of my favorite things to do, especially at Christmas time.   The only ones who see my house at Christmas are me and my guys.  They could care less about my pink Christmas tree and Elvis ornaments.  So, I let them go ballistic on our tree and you know what?  It turned out alright.  It’s even more stunning than last year, if you ask me. 

F-Family Matters

(Nope, not the TV show with Urkel.)

During the holiday season, extended families come together, often traveling great distances.  While it is wonderful to visit with relatives not often seen, I need to plan ahead to avoid being physically drained by what should be an enjoyable experience.  I may need to force myself to rest. I may have to decline an invitation or two.  This girl is changing and my first responsibility is myself and my immediate family.   Sometimes I am unable to communicate freely when I am not feeling well.  I dread coming across as whining or complaining but I am learning to take better care of myself and that’s a gift I can give my family.

T- Think Ahead

I tend to majorly stress out at the holidays when I am in a mad-rush to get everything done at the last minute.  This year, I am planning way ahead.  As in, I started planning for Thanksgiving two months ago.  I am a list-maker which comes in handy when my meds are making me foggy.  I am learning how to delegate and simplify.  Some days are harder than others and I have to allow time in my schedule so one or two days in a row will not ruin the entire holiday season.  If I plan this far in advance, I may have a smidgen of energy left over to actually enjoy the holidays.

 I am already reminding myself why I am celebrating this time.  It should be a joyful, relaxing time with family and friends.  So, I am going to grab some hot cocoa, put on my favorite Christmas movie, turn the lights on my endearing tree, take a deep breath and enjoy the most wonderful time of the year. 

This may just be the best GIFT of all this Christmas. 

How do you cope with the holidays and chronic pain? If you don't have a chronic condition what are your tips for a less stressful holiday season?

Money Honey

I had radio frequency ablation yesterday.  The doctor basically zapped my nerves so the pain will either be stopped indefinitely or months at a time.  The procedure was uncomfortable to say the least, as I was awake the entire time. So far, the pain is significantly reduced.  I am hesitantly optimistic in even saying I have relief as I am afraid I will be disappointed yet again.  Mostly, I am fatigued as all the junk they put in my system is trying to get out.  This is where my faith is put to the test.  I am praying this is the miracle I have asked for.  I am so incredibly thankful for those of you who joined in prayer.

This is a test.  This is only a test.  I find myself repeating this phrase constantly.  The implications of this test far out way any spelling test I had in grade school.  This test reaps heavenly rewards or consequences. 

For because He Himself [in His humanity] has suffered in being tempted (tested and tried), He is able [immediately] to run to the cry of (assist, relieve) those who are being tempted and tested and tried [and who therefore are being exposed to suffering].  Hebrews 2:18

Consider it wholly joyful, my brethren, whenever you are enveloped in or encounter trials of any sort or fall into various temptations.  James 1:2

Be assured and understand that the trial and proving of your faith bring out endurance and steadfastness and patience.  James 1:3

Do you know your love language?  Mine tie between gifts and acts of service.  The impact of not being able to give gifts as I used to or to display acts of service hurts my heart almost as much as my neck hurts.  God is using this in a dominant way.  Over the weekend, I began to truly realize the financial cost of chronic pain.  Literally.  If we didn’t have insurance, one prescription alone is $700.  Every co-pay (several times a week) is $30.  We are still paying for the surgery and now all the procedures are adding up. Not to mention my cute as a bug car continues to demolish our finances as it breaks down every other month. I had to remind myself it’s not our money anyway.  It’s His.  We had a choice to make.  According to the checkbook, if we didn’t tithe, we’d have a cushion to fall back on.  That was out of the question.  It was time for another test. 

Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this," says the LORD Almighty, "and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that you will not have room enough for it.  Malachi 3:10

Boy howdy, did we pray.  I consider us good stewards of our finances.  Like many right now, times are hard, but the blessings are still there.  Before we moved, we owned our home, had 2 vehicles in perfect condition, we both worked full-time, we had everything we needed and more often than not we had what we wanted.  I have always liked bargain shopping, but now it’s not really a choice.  When I go into one of my favorite thrift stores, I have homeless people approach asking for food.  Testing?  123? We are not in poverty.  If it weren’t for the situation I am in, would I ever be able to minister to “the least of these?”   

He made himself obvious over the weekend.  At church, the sermon was spot on.  Bible study was verbatim about giving and pain! (Don’t you love it when that happens?)  Then an amusing thing happened, my love language started getting filled.  Friends began giving gifts out of “the blue.”  People are providing food for when I am recovering.  It’s not so much what gifts I can give, and what acts of service I can do for others right now, but it’s what others have been doing for me.  It’s a humbling, beautiful test. I am really hoping for a gold star! 

Put the Blame On Me

Guilt, I have it.  Webster’s dictionary defines “guilt” as “a feeling of responsibility or remorse for some offense, crime, wrong, etc., whether real or imagined.” That’s exactly how I feel sometimes.  I have unsurpassable guilt as a mother, and a wife. My inability to take care of my home, my children, and my husband feels like a Christian crime.  I am letting down my team.  I am burden to them, not a willing servant.  Every marriage book, or conference, or women’s Bible study I attended affirmed my suspicion that I was committing a horrible offense against my family by my infirmity.  Serve, they said.  Serve even at a detriment to yourself, like Christ served us.  Have the house clean before your husband comes home so he feels welcomed and relaxed.  Jump up to greet him at the door. 

Fantastic advice however, my husband comes home to a pile of dirty dishes, boys who need to get to sports and finish homework,  a wife who can barely get off the sofa, much less jump into his arms for a hug. Some days my boys have to forage their own food for supper because I didn’t have enough strength to make something for everyone.  (Good thing they love cereal for supper.) I felt like a complete failure as a wife, a mother, and a Christian woman in general.  All this practical advice doled out by wise and respected Christian women for keeping a happy home and marriage, I’ve completely failed to carry out because of my pain.    

Pain in any form doesn’t just affect one person.  It encompasses my entire social circle, with the most impact being my family.  This battle has me feeling an overwhelming burden of guilt about my inability to serve my family.  After two surgeries, the pain has become widespread, increasingly difficult to control, and invades every part of our lives.  I’m beginning to see that this chronic pain might never be leaving me – might never be leaving us.  It was like the proverbial uninvited houseguest; it arrived unannounced, not so intrusive at first, but gradually wreaking havoc on my marriage and mothering, undoing the order in my home, and settling down into my life, never intending to leave.  Chronic pain or illness can at first glance seem merely personal, but in a very real way it is something that affects an entire family just as much as the individual sufferer. 

As I learn to limit my physical activities more and more to regulate the pain, my husband has to pick up the slack.  I felt useless and aggravated every time he had to do the dishes, something I “should have” been able to do.  I would try to do them despite the pain, to feel like I was fulfilling my role in our home (I do stay home all day after all), but would inevitably end up disgruntled on the sofa with my pills and an ice or hot pack.  My husband still sometimes has to remind me from the kitchen to make me lie down and not hurt myself.  But I want to work, I want to serve my family, and I want to feel productive.  These are all good things, right?  Why has God taken away something that he commands me to do: serve?   

  

Guilt enveloped me as my husband would take care of the dishes rather than relax after work, or the fact that I can't work full-time anymore to help contribute to our family.  Guilt stabbed at my heart every time I had to tell my boys once again “No, mommy can’t play with you right now, my neck hurts.” I have no control.  At all.  Of anything.  Even the dishes seem to want to join in my humiliation, screaming “wash me!” from the counter top.  And my floor, piling on, yelling “Mop me!  Mop me.”  And my laundry, “fold me!”  Feed me, hold me, change me, fix me, clean me, wash me, fold me, mop me… the rising chorus of needs I can’t fulfill pummels my exhausted brain and beaten body.   My mind starts racing as defeated tears well up in my eyes:  I can’t do this anymore.  I can’t do this.  This is not okay. I am not okay. 

I found myself constantly apologizing, especially to my husband.  I really believed that I had wrecked his life.  This is all my fault.  I cannot deny God the use of my pain to work in the lives of others.  God is using my pain, perhaps, to sharpen my husband’s Christ-like love for me.  And who knows how else he is using it in the lives of my children, family, and my own heart.  

Now I am connecting pain to my guilt.  I always thought, “I can deal with this pain and let God use it in my life, but I don’t want it to ‘hurt’ my family.  That’s not fair.”  I thought that was righteous and loving.  But if I am reaping the eternal benefit of having my faith tested and strengthened through this fire, how can I deny that same experience of God’s grace to my family and friends?  I came to a rather startling conclusion: my guilt, for all that it appears to be concerned for others, is really self-centered.  It’s selfish.  It’s my ego screaming out to be validated while writhing in my own feeling of uselessness.    

Guilt was something in which I had allowed myself to indulge.  For example, I have felt “righteously guilty” about not being able to take my children on walks around our neighborhood.  My line of thought would go something like this:   “I should feel guilty that I can’t take him out.  Children are supposed to go for walks.  They would be happier and healthier if we got more fresh air and stretched our legs.  I feel so useless.  I’m such a bad mother.  I’m so insufficient for this task.  I wish I could just get better.  Is being able to walk really too much to ask?  Why does God not want me to take my children for walks?  Doesn’t He want them to revel in His creation?  Doesn’t He want me to take good care of them?” 

Not sure if you noticed, because I didn’t for a long time, but that inner dialogue was really all about me.  It is just me whining, letting my feelings rule over me, and indulging in a little pity party.  It’s me not trusting God.  And it’s me wrongly defining what it is to be a good mother and to live a “useful” life.  

So there’s the truth about my guilt; what I thought I could wallow in as “selfless love” for others and sorrow over my “ruining” their lives, was actually sinful and self-centered.  I shouldn’t be surprised; “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?” (Isaiah 17:9).

This life is not all about me and how I feel.  It’s not all about my marriage or my children either.  It’s certainly not about my ability to go for walks or do the dishes.  It’s all about God.  It’s about the work He is doing for His glory – and as believers that includes working for my good and the good of my family.  He has seen fit to give me this chronic pain for a purpose – His purpose - which I don’t fully understand.  He has given me a husband and two wonderful children to go on this difficult journey with me.  And He knows that I struggle with my role as a mother and wife.  But I know that He is good and He is training me to take my eyes off of myself and my guilt and onto Him for sustenance, even when I don’t understand.  He has a plan: “You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me.  Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high; I cannot attain it” (Psalm 139:5-6).

  

God never defined good mothering as taking your children to the park every day. The purpose of mothering is to raise children to know and fear the Lord.  It is to “teach [God’s works] to your children, talking of them when you are sitting in your house, and when you are walking by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise” (Deuteronomy 11:19).  The purpose of marriage is to reflect the loving union between Christ and His Bride, the Church (Ephesians 5:22-33).  Those goals can be accomplished only through God’s grace and strength, and even through much suffering.  In fact, as I think about it, my pain gives my husband more opportunities to serve me as Christ served the church.  He is challenged to lay down his life and his plans and his dreams anew every day.  God is forcing him to change those personal plans to better reflect His plan.  Rather than feel guilty about this, I should praise God that He is constantly using my pain to shape my husband more and more into the image of Christ. 

My children won’t suffer from a lack of walks as much as they would suffer from a mother who has no faith in God’s providence and goodness.  My pain can point them to the Gospel in a way a “normal” life would not.  Mommy can’t play right now, and that makes me sad, but I want them to see joy in my life.  I can still be in pain but be filled with joy and hope. There is no room for guilt in that great hope. I’m at peace. God grants me not only strength in Christ, but joy!  My hope is not in my abilities, or my children, or the cleanliness of my home; my hope is in my God who has saved me, redeemed me, adopted me, and is using my pain for His glory and my good.

The pain doesn’t go away.  Nothing out there in the world, or in there in my body, has changed.  But I have remembered that God is sovereign and God is good.  Instead of suffocating under the weight of anxiety, guilt, and despair, when I trust God my soul can sing out, albeit through tears, “Whom have I in heaven but you?  And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you.  My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever” (Psalm 73:25-26).