It's waiting time

Leaning in a little further in this waiting time….

I wonder what Jesus is going to teach me during this preparatory time of Lent. It seems, each year, another layer of who He created me to be is unveiled. In my recent post, I shared my current health situation and how being on the transplant list had me look closer at life and death.

Last Tuesday, I came to the hospital for a test to determine the oxygen level I needed for home use. It seemed to change almost overnight as I wasn’t recovering well. I had no idea what was about to occur with this test. Now that I look back on it, I pause and wonder what God was doing or allowing in his continued refinement.

I went the full length of the test but couldn’t recover fast enough for them. I maxed out at using 15 liters of oxygen. My tech got all fussy and told me you likely aren’t going anywhere but across the street to the hospital. I thought, what are you saying? You’re kidding, right? He sent me back to my transplant coordinator.

We met my coordinator, Lisa, in the Doctor’s office, and she immediately pulled me into a room and shut the door. She said she had good news and bad news. The good news: I would move up on the list. The bad: I’d have to stay in the hospital with high-level oxygen and wait for my new lungs. It could be a day, week, month, or several months of waiting. She told me to go home, pack, and wait for a call telling me when my room would be ready. I was to bring everything that would make me feel at home. Hah! Not sure that would be possible! And not knowing how long I would be gone was so strange.

Today, I have a wire around my finger with a long cord attached to a router-looking box. I have five ekg leads across my chest and a new, expanded version of oxygen – from a ¼ tube to maybe a 1”. It’s like having three leashes on me, each reaching certain points in the room. And yes, it all gets tangled and I have to sleep and wear them all 24/7. Sometimes, I feel like I am doing pirouettes to reach things. All the leashes have bells and whistles too, and I have to take them off or switch out for something different to reach the bathroom and shower. Which really isn’t too far! My room is about 15 x 12 and houses a bathroom, bed, two chairs, a rolling table, sink, closet, and many medical pieces of equipment. I have numerous staff come in daily - doctors, nurse practitioners, nurses, and nurse assistants, plus all the departments that support the transplant team … respiratory, dietary, physical therapy, respiratory therapy, labs, social work, and pharmacy, to name a few. It’s quite the revolving door.

But the best part – and I’m reaching for positive thoughts- is a beautiful view from a large window. I’ve watched swimmers, crewers, jet skis, and party boats. I watched a 5 and 8K race happening on the street below. Construction is occurring in the building directly in front of me; soon, it will be torn down, and a brand new Transplant Center will be built – with 140 beds!

I’ve had calls, texts, and emails. I am so blessed by many who are reaching out, praying and wanting to do something. I do not feel alone. I am lifted by your praying arms. Saturday morning, I was feeling very down; I’d had a bad night of sleep and too much coughing. I looked at the runners and asked myself, why can’t I be down there? Sheesh, I was depressed already, and it was only five days. I sat and prayed my morning prayers, then checked my phone for messages. Friend’s comments on a Facebook post pushed me out of the depression. They said if anyone can carry this cross, you can. You are our little spitfire.

It is something to be in a “cell” and not be able to leave unless someone takes me. But this wasn’t going to become a pity party. I pushed out of the chair because if she believed in me, then I should believe in myself. I started my exercises, determined to be in the best shape possible for the transplant and afterwards. I’m wasn’t quite ready for John 21:18... when you are old…..

In her touching my heart I heard God saying, get up and keep moving. I got you. Keep walking. I will show you the way. Believe what your preach to your ladies! Truly, it’s what holds the faithful together. Him working through our friendships. Trusting in the body of Christ. I’m still waiting to see a priest and receive Holy Communion, so spiritual warfare is happening. But someone else might need that Priest more, and God allows me to wait. So I say go away Satan and I sprinkled more holy water around. And God blessed me in my receiving several spiritual communions received by others, for me. All of you bless me in so many ways.

Am I afraid? I’d be lying if I said no. Coughing and choking are not fun. But I am called to trust, as Abraham did, as you are, and go slowly, anticipating God knows exactly when he will step in. He will guide us all in whatever trial we face. He knows what we need – so we should just surrender our million questions and lean in. 

I wake up, thanking God that I am walking and talking, and ask him to prepare my donor and their family for what they will endure. In my room, I exercise, pray a lot, speak with staff, and do what I am told. A far cry from the self-reliant, take-charge lady you might have known.  God, indeed, is refining me. More unveiling or peeling back is occurring.

I am the clay; he is the Potter. This studio is small, yet he has my full attention.