Shingles

"Shingles"

May 27, 2011
(dictated from Bob)


Last Thursday night, I was taken by EMS to Morton Plant Hospital with “chest pain.” It was not a heart attack but excessive fluid in the lining of my heart. One or more of my problems qualified me for the intensive care unit. We stayed in ICU until Sunday and then moved to a regular room. Dialysis and additional drugs took care of the chest pain.


A few hours after our ambulance ride, Emily gave birth to our 6th grandchild in Gainesville (which is 2 ½ hours away), so Patra wasn't able to be there. As they wheeled my hospital bed away to dialysis, the nurse told Patra that I’d be away from my room for about 5 hours and to go home and get some sleep since we had been in the ER all night. Patra had a different idea, and she took off for Gainesville figuring she could get there, snuggle a newborn for a bit, and get back in time to be with me. She was so excited to be able to surprise Emily and meet little Anderson. As you can see from the pictures below, he is beautiful.





As we were preparing to leave the hospital late Monday, Patra noticed “blisters” on my stomach and back. We thought it might be a reaction to a medication.


WRONG.


It is a nasty case of SHINGLES.


REALLY?

The doctors felt the shingles could be treated at home so they offered me a choice – stay in isolation in the hospital or go home. It took me about a nanosecond to make that decision.


I’m not allowed to be around the grandchildren for two weeks. That is really hard. I’m going to have to wait even longer to hold Emily's and James' new son, Anderson.

On a different note, I've been wanted to write about something which has been difficult for me. It is very personal and in some ways makes me feel vulnerable. It forces me to look back at a difficult time, but I hope that it may be an encouragement to someone who is also walking through similar ”tall weeds.”


Phillipians 1: 21-24
“For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far; but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body.”


At the beginning of his letter to the believers at the church in Phillipi, Paul poses an interesting question: Is it better to die and go to heaven, or to continue to live here on earth? I suspect that anyone who has had a terminal illness has struggled with the same question. As Paul clearly says, it is better by far to be in heaven with Christ than to be on earth. I have also struggled with this question and it has taught me a profound lesson about God answering prayer.


When Patra and I returned from the Mayo Clinic in December 2010, I was clinically depressed. I had been through a bone marrow transplant which failed, chemo-therapy which failed, and a rare and radical surgical procedure presented as my only choice. I would now be on dialysis for the rest of my life. The medical staff at Moffitt recommended that I see a psychiatrist. She told me that she had reviewed my records, that I was clinically depressed, and that I had every right to be.

That was one of the most freeing diagnoses I have ever had, since it explained not only why I felt the way I did, but also because I had every right to feel that way. I didn’t have to feel guilty or ashamed.


For me, being depressed meant that I was walking through the “tall weeds” and someone had turned off the lights. I couldn’t see clearly and I wasn’t thinking clearly. During that period of depression, I would pray every night that God would let me die. I would pray fervently, and I would pray specifically for that particular night. I would wake up in the morning, and before opening my eyes I would try to make the determination whether I was in heaven. Obviously, I was still here on earth.


Imagine a young woman who prays that her boyfriend will give her a ring and that they will marry. In her mind, the wedding ceremony is as beautiful as the Royal Wedding (absent the hats). That prayer goes unanswered, and eventually, she and her boyfriend part ways. She feels that God abandoned her and did not answer her prayers. Would it make a difference to discover that several years later, she met another man who has become her husband and they have a beautiful, wonderful relationship and family? Did God not answer her prayer?


What about the father and husband who prays that God will bring about the job change that he wants. He explains to God all the advantages that the new job will have for himself and for his family. However, he does not get the job, and he wonders if God cares or hears his prayers. But also imagine that within a year or two, the senior executives of the company that he wanted to work for are indicted for fraud. Had he been at the firm, his career might have been so tainted that he would never be able to work in his chosen field again. Did God hear and was God gracious?


For me, the medication that I am on has greatly reduced my depression. And for the last several weeks, it has been my desire to live as long as I can with Patra. I no longer pray at night to die, but pray at night that God will give me another day with my family. So God didn’t ignore my prayer request from those months ago; it’s just that he knew more than I knew about why I felt the way I did, and He knew that my desire would change.


More than anything, we need to pray that God’s perfect will be done. He does not ignore our prayers. He loves us. He is good – all the time.


Dear God,

Thank you for answered prayers although there are times when I can’t clearly see how you are working. Increase my faith so that I can rest in the assurance that you care and that you are good all the time. If there are those who are similarly dealing with depression, I pray that they would receive the professional help that they need.

Thank you for the healthy birth of baby Anderson. He is an answer to prayer and a great blessing to us.