Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Clay in the Masters Hand

Have you ever felt like a piece of clay in someones hand? When clay is first picked up it is cold and hard. Then, as pressure and heat are applied from palming and squeezing the clay it begins to soften, it begins to be pliable.

I have felt like that lump of clay these last couple of weeks. I have had some physical heat and pressure applied, and I won't lie, it didn't feel good. But in the process of all that pressure I have been soften, humbled and I have come to a place where I feel teachable and ready to get back on track and do the things that are required of me.

For the span of a week and a half I had been experiencing severe pain and flu-like symptoms from mastitis, a breast infection. From Day 1-6 I was put on 2 different antibiotics by an OBGYN. I waited the appropriate 3 days for each round, but because they were not treating me for the right bacteria the infection was raging and going untreated. I was getting worse by the minute. Fevers, body aches, anxiety attacks, sharp shooting pain...

We decided to go to the ER on day 6. I was put on yet another antibiotic and pain meds, this time through an IV, and was told to come back the next day for more. But, I was still not being treated with the right Medicine. Day 7, another dose of the wrong antibiotic.

Day 8, this was the worst day. I was praying for a miracle! I was sitting on the hospital bed in agony, when in walks my angel, Dr. Torres (aka: a doctor who knew what he was doing...finally) He took one look at me and knew that I was not doing well. He ordered a blood culture (why this wasn't done in the beginning is beyond me) to see what bacteria was causing the mess. I was finally given the right antibiotic and he tripled the dose! The next day I had improved by 50%.

I was sitting on the bed on the 9th and final day at the hospital. I was waiting for Dr. Torres to examine me again and give me my final dose of IV meds. I was staring at the yellow, blue and green stripped curtain that separated my bed from the door. A tear slipped down my check, but it wasn't a tear from the pain, like it had been so many times before, it was a tear of gratitude. I was overwhelmed with gratitude for my body and that it was healing. I promised then to never take my health for granted. I would wake up each day and fill my lungs with air and use all of my energy to the best of my ability.

I know that that week and half was a small bump in my road. I know that there are plenty of other people who endure far greater challenges, but that experience was enough for me, at least for now, to get me refocused and rededicated to being and doing my best.

I am so grateful that I am safely cupped in the warm, strong hand of my Heavenly Father, who knows my every thought and my every desire. I am so grateful that He knows me well enough to know that a little suffering will be best for me in the long run. I am grateful for the gift of an eternal perspective, because that doesn't always come naturally to me.

I am grateful he has given me the absolute best husband who cares for me above and beyond my expectations. I am grateful for my children who are patient and kind to me. They all knew Mommy had an infection and were attentive to my needs. Baily said to me before one of the last trips to the hospital, "Mom, I want you to get better so we can play again, cause you are the funnest Mom in the world!"

I am hoping that if you are still reading this you will find something to be grateful for. Don't let another moment pass you by without gratitude in your heart.

Check out my other blog, remembering JOY to read more about finding JOY in your journey.