South Carolina?

     The next week, Feb. 10-14. I went back to work but I was miserable.  It was all I could do to drag myself through the day, come home, and collapse on the couch or in bed.  How our kids stayed fed and clothed I don't know.  James was probably doing a lot of the work as well as my mom and sister.  My legs hurt incredibly much.

    On my days off of work I was trying to gather medical documents - lab work, chart notes, etc. together as my brother James and his wife April were offering to help us get medical help in South Carolina where they lived.  James is an NHL goaltender with a professional athletes' salary and they were generously offering to try and get us help from the American medical system.  Between my undiagnosed condition and James' genetic heart condition, it felt like we both just weren't getting the timely help we needed from our Canadian healthcare system - although it is very nice to have universal health care - it is a slow and cumbersome system.

    James was diagnosed with Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy at the age of 19.  It runs in his family and there have been numerous deaths among his extended family from it.  It is an ever present thorn in his flesh but he has done an amazing job of largely ignoring it and not letting it ruin his life.  He is on daily, strong heart medication and has had an implanted defibrillator/pacemaker since 2006.  

    In the last few years, however, his heart has begun giving him more trouble.  It started going into a rhythm called atrial fibrillation occasionally.  Basically, atrial fibrillation (A.Fib.) means the top part of his heart is not contracting properly and just kind of quivers.  So his heart is not pushing out blood as efficiently as it should and also there is an increased risk for a clot to form in the heart which puts him at an increased risk for a stroke or heart attack.  So this makes him have less endurance and he gets fatigued much more easily.

    By October 2019 his heart had gone into almost constant A. Fib. and he was feeling quite poorly.  This was 2 months before my symptoms really showed up.  I still think the stress of his health may have set off the activation of my disease.  It was really hard to watch him struggle and we had a hard time talking about it.  Both of us wanted so badly for him to be healthy and strong.

    We switched cardiologists in the hopes of getting more answers and the day I was told I had pneumonia he had also gotten a call from his new cardiologist, Dr. M., saying his A. Fib. would probably just have to become a part of his life.  There was nothing more medically to be done about it.

    James is a farmer - he is a big, strong man who spends most of his time outdoors.  He prefers to work with his hands and hates any kind of office work.  Being told to consider other career options was hard to hear.  So, in the midst of my ongoing illness, James and I were both trying to come to terms with the decline in his heart condition and wondered what it meant for our future.

    The thought of going to South Carolina to see top notch cardiologists and rheumatologists gave us some hope that there might be more answers and treatments to try.  We felt humbled by the generosity of James and April's offer to help us in this way.

Another Setback

     The next day was a Friday, Jan. 24/20.  James, being the tough guy who can't sit still person that he is headed back to the farmhouse to keep working on renovations as best he could with his gimpy hand.  I dragged myself to work my Friday 1/2 day at the office.  I was feeling very tired and by the time I got home it was all I could do to fall into bed for the rest of the day.  I felt so frustrated.

    Around 5:00 pm I got a phone call from my doctor, Dr. A.  She got right to the point.  "You have pneumonia," She told me.

    "What?", I said, "That can't be".

    She told me the chest Xray had showed a spot in the upper lobe of my right lung and she felt it was pneumonia.  I questioned her a bit more because in most of my experience as a nurse, pneumonia would typically show up in the bases of the lungs.  She admitted it was a bit strange.  My heart was sinking fast as the tendrils of fear started to creep into my mind.  Could this be a simple pneumonia?  Or was this another sign pointing to a sinister underlying disease?  The word cancer had certainly been on my mind and anything unexplained like this "spot" in my lungs made me wonder - maybe all my symptoms were actually cancer?  How long did I have left to live?  Was this the beginning of the end?

    My thoughts were tumbling around in my head.  Meanwhile, my dear Auntie Jan dropped by to bring us some supper.  Bless her soul.  She asked me how I was doing.  I tried to sound positive - I hadn't even had a chance to really tell James about the phone call yet.

    I was so grateful for all the kindness shown to us by our church family, our family, and our friends and now with this diagnosis of pneumonia the meals started coming again.  I felt so overwhelmed and grateful by the outpouring of support.  I tried to be brave and positive.

    I had to take more time off of work and I felt so bad trying to explain everything to my manager and colleagues again.  It sounded unreal.  Like, how could so many things be going wrong one thing after the other?  I was grateful for their graciousness to me.

    Thankfully, after a round of strong oral antibiotics the pneumonia apparently cleared up and I told myself I felt a bit better.  It was kind of hard to tell.  I still had joint and muscle pain, fatigue, and other weird symptoms like my hands clamping up and not working properly.  But I felt a little less run-down and a little more energy - or so I told myself.  I decided I just had to go back to work!  Things would get better if I could just get back to some kind of normal routine.  So, I told my manager that I would be back to work on February 10.

January 23

 Back to my story-

    January 23 dawned and we woke up and got ready for the day feeling groggy and disoriented.  With some coffee in our systems we headed out and met my mom. Even though James' thumb surgery was in the Health Sciences complex where our hotel was, I was in no shape to walk that far and she dropped us off at the front doors of the Rehab building.  Interestingly, it was the same building where the Rheumatology Clinic is as well as the Infusion Clinic.  Those are two places I have now become quite familiar with.  But we went up to the 5th floor where the outpatient Plastic Surgery is located.  

    We were directed to a waiting room where we joined a few other people in varying states of injury.  James and I pulled out our phones and scrolled through the news headlines.  As I recall, at that time the headlines were about a young doctor in China who had been sounding the alarm about the Coronavirus in China and who had been silenced by the government but was now fighting for his life in ICU.  Or maybe the headline was that he had now passed away.  'How bad was this coronovirus?'  I wondered. It sounded pretty scary and so mysterious.  Would it be contained?  Was this all being overblown in the media?  Or would it reach Canada and become a reality for us too?

    Soon James was called in and I went with him to his little area/chair where they would hopefully fix his thumb.  Everything took a little too long though and I had to leave to make it to my appointment in Arborg. I felt bad leaving him alone to face the pain.

    My mom picked me up at the front doors again and off we drove to Arborg - just over an hour's drive north of Winnipeg.  James did fine with his thumb and his dad picked him up an hour or so later.  I would get to be his nurse who did his dressing changes for the next week or two.  Thankfully, his thumb was salvaged although he lost a bit of bone and doesn't really have feeling in the tip of that thumb anymore.

    My appointment with my family doctor, Dr. A., was kind of weird.  I went into that appointment feeling like I kind of knew my diagnosis already - I had been told by Dr. K earlier that I probably had SLE - or Lupus- so I had begun processing this already.  All I really wanted from Dr. A was a referral to a rheumatologist so I could get on with the official diagnosis, treatment plan, education, etc. and I could go back to health and living my life.  I even had the name of the rheumatologist I wanted to be referred to - as I'd done my due diligence on rateyourmd.com.  I think maybe I have some control issues...

    My mom had come into the appointment with me.  She was more concerned with the fact that I was obviously not functioning well - barely walking, pale, fatigued, etc.  I think she would have liked my doctor to admit me into the hospital that day.  I was more in denial.

    Dr. A agreed to the referral although she admitted she was not very familiar with autoimmune diseases and didn't even mention Lupus to me.  I was a little confused.  She also listened to my chest and her brow furrowed.  She sent me for a chest Xray and more bloodwork.  I felt a bit impatient - that wasn't why I was there - but whatever...off I went to the lab and Xray room where I had spent much time in and out of back when I worked as a nurse at the Arborg Hospital.  Xray rooms always feel so cold.  They're never a comforting place to be - especially when you're already feeling sick.  "Breath in, hold it - Okay".  "Turn to the side - put your hands up on the bars". "Breath in, hold it, don't move - okay".  Done.

    After my appointment, I had another appointment back at our farmhouse with Adrian, the guy from the Home Hardware store that we were ordering our new kitchen cabinets from.  He was doing an onsite visit with myself and the electrician to figure out some of the final details.

    It was 1:00 in the afternoon - I was exhausted - I had been through so much in the last 24 hours never mind the weeks leading up to it.  But there I was, in the middle of our renovation project, deep into talks about electrical outlets, lighting placement, feet and inches of cabinets with these two men.  It just felt kind of comical to me.  I don't think I even tried to explain to them what was all happening with us medically - it just felt too absurd.

    By the way, in the end, my kitchen turned out beautifully!  More on the renovation story to come as it all kept happening along with our medical woes.  The level of how much I cared about it all became lesser and lesser of a priority - but decisions kept having to be made and eventually it would all be completed.

Happy Birthday to Me

    Today as I write this - it is my 42nd birthday.  I'll take a little break from my story to talk about that.  Birthdays aren't such a big deal as we get older but they do mean something.  I had just turned 40 when my symptoms first showed up.  My plans for all that I would do and be after turning 40 quickly took a back seat as I began to walk a very different road than I had imagined instead.  One where I could no longer walk very well, couldn't write, couldn't play the piano, couldn't sing, couldn't work.  I have struggled long and hard the last year and a half over what it really is that makes a person worth something.  I long to feel useful - to have a clear purpose.

    But maybe those thoughts are for another post.  For now, I will enjoy my birthday - celebrating the fact that I am here, that I am present with my family and also that I am feeling relatively well at this time.  I want to be grateful for all the blessings God has showered me with.  There is so much to be thankful for.

    The words of a song sung by Steve Bell have been especially meaningful to me - if you get a chance to listen to it - it's such a good song.  It's called 'Here By the Water'.  Steve Bell is a well known Christian singer-songwriter from my home province of Manitoba. 

Here by the Water
Music and lyrics by Jim Croegaert
copyright 1986 Rough Stones Music

Soft field of clover
Moon shining over the valley
Joining the song of the river
To the great giver of the great good
As it enfolds me
Somehow it holds me together
I realize I've been singing
Still it comes ringing
Clearer than clear

And here by the water
I'll build an altar to praise Him
Out of the stones that I've found here
I'll set them down here
Rough as they are
Knowing You can make them holy
Knowing You can make them holy
Knowing You can make them holy

I think how a yearning
Kept on returning to move me
Down roads I'd never have chosen 
Half the time frozen
Too numb to feel
I know it was stormy
I hope it was for me a learning
Blood on the road wasn't mine though
Someone that I know
Has walked here before

An Accident

    Over that next weekend, and into the following week, January 18-21, 2020,  some of the rest of the family also got sick with the flu.  I took Autumn to a doctor in Arborg on Tuesday, Jan. 21 because she is the one who gets the sickest from our kids.  She had to go for a urine and blood test and her and I ended up having a big spat over it in the lab bathroom as I tried to convince her to give a a urine test.  The joys of pre-teens!  The stress we had been living under was definitely showing up in our family life.

    The next day, I forced myself to go back to work even though I felt very weak and still had lots of joint and muscle pain.  I loaded up on Aleve and braced myself for a day of appointments.  My colleague Denise, a Registered Dietitian, and I were heading out to a neighbouring First Nations Reserve to do outreach appointments at the Health Centre there.  I felt bad leaving my colleagues covering for me so much and needing to reschedule appointments with clients who really needed support.  So I felt I needed to push myself to get back to work.

    However, I probably should have just stayed home that day as a couple of hours into my day I got an urgent phone call from James saying he had had an accident with a saw while working on our house renovations.  He had nearly cut off the tip of his thumb!  I could hear he was in shock.  He asked me which hospital to go to.  My brain was numb.  How could I think about this clearly when I was barely hanging on physically myself and trying to put on a brave face while meeting my clients?  Maybe it wasn't that bad?  Maybe I could finish my day with my clients and then go to the hospital?  My brain raced.  I told him to get a ride to a hospital and then messaged him to go to the Percy E. Moore hospital which was the same building my office was at.  Meanwhile I saw my last client of the morning - I don't think she got the best care from me that day...

    I felt like a robot- Denise drove me back to my office and offered to cancel my afternoon appointments for me.  I felt bad making her cover for me again.  How could we be having this many health crises' at once?  It was getting to be too much.

    I went to find James.  He was pale and in lots of pain.  His thumb didn't look too good.  The doctor was on the phone with Plastic Surgery in Winnipeg and we prepared ourselves to go into Winnipeg - a 2 hour drive from the hospital.  I contacted our families and tried to arrange childcare.  I felt feverish - achy and chilled- how could I look after James when I still felt so bad myself?

    My mom offered to drive us and I gratefully accepted.  The doctor stitched James' thumb together as best he could and gave James morphine and off we went to Winnipeg to the Health Sciences Centre ER.  Rural hospitals don't get the best service from the city specialists so in the end the plan was that we go to the ER in Wpg and they would consult further with Plastics.

    By the time we got to the ER, James and I were both in bad shape.  He was in pain and shock and I could barely walk or move.  My joint and muscle pain was terrible - my meds had long worn off and the stress of the day had taken a toll on me.  We sat there in the ER for about 4 hours.  My dad came into Wpg as well for support and my parents faithfully sat there with us.  We finally sent them out to have some supper as it was a very long time to sit and wait on hard waiting room chairs.  The waiting room was full of sick people - moaning and groaning and throwing up.  Not the most fun way to spend an evening.

    We finally got to see a doctor around midnight and he had a look at the thumb.  He decided there was enough blood flow, etc. that surgery could wait till morning.  Surgery was scheduled for 8:00 the next morning.

    My mom, being the awesome crisis support person that she is, booked 2 rooms at the attached Canad Inns hotel - 1 room for her and 1 room for us.  We crashed into bed at 1 AM to try and get some rest.  I had my long awaited appointment with my family doctor, Dr. A, the next morning in Arborg at 10:40 and I couldn't miss that appointment.  My mom was going to drive me back there and James' dad was going to come into Winnipeg to pick up James after his surgery.

    What a day.  It was all feeling quite overwhelming.

Trip to Fort Frances

     On Jan. 15/20 I stayed home from work due to the flu I had caught.  Huddled under my blanket, I scrolled through the news on my phone.  I was alarmed to read a few news articles about people in the province and in Canada who were dying of the flu this winter.  Young, healthy people who just suddenly became very ill and couldn't pull through.  This sounded alarming to me and given my current state of health - just a little bit extra scary to process.  I mentioned this to James and told him it seemed "pretty scary".

    The next day, early in the morning, we left for Emo/Fort Frances, ON for Madalyn Grace's memorial service.  We took our daughters, Autumn and Elie, along and also gave a ride to Katrina, our niece.  Most of James' family was also coming and some of us travelled together.  I loaded up on Tylenol and Advil and we prepared our hearts for the grief ahead.

    It was very difficult to watch Mike and Jo grieving the loss of their first child.  Words really can't describe it.  It has scarred them forever and as a family, we felt helpless to stand by and watch but we were glad we could be there to stand with them at least.  They buried Madalyn in a local cemetery and we had a short service for her.  Our family and Mike's family spent the evening together at Mike's parents.  I was feeling so sick and could barely walk but I tried to hide it.

    We spent the night at a hotel in Fort Frances.  I enjoyed soaking my aching bones and muscles in the hot tub and the girls had fun swimming in the pool.  We went home the next day and got home by evening.  I was still fighting a fever but thinking I was feeling a little better.  The roads had been terribly icy with bad visibility a lot of the way.  We were grateful everyone from James' family made it safely home.

Birthday, Flu, and Heartbreaking News

 That weekend it was Elie's actual birthday.  Miles had a hockey game in Gimli on Saturday and then we watched my brother James get his 24th career shutout that evening, watching him on TV, like we did whenever he played.  He was playing for the Carolina Hurricanes that season. We are so proud of him and love to watch him play.

    On Sunday, we kept celebrating Elie by going to Winnipeg and watching Frozen 2 at the theatre - she loved it!  I was feeling really achy and sick and my right hand had closed up and contracted so that I couldn't straighten my 4th and 5th fingers.  I knew this was really weird - I couldn't explain it - but didn't think it was worth a trip to the ER.  I tried to be brave and give Elie a good birthday weekend.  Autumn was coughing a lot and and Miles had a runny nose.

    On Monday morning, Jan. 13, we received the incredibly sad news that James' sister Jolene - his youngest sibling - and her husband Mike, had lost their baby the night before.  She had been about 5 months pregnant with their first baby and we had all been so excited and happy for them.  Madalyn Grace was born too early and after one and a half hours went to be with Jesus.  Our hearts broke for them as we tried to imagine their shock and grief.

    I dragged myself to work that morning, feeling so sad for Jolene and Mike and also feeling as sick as a dog.  I texted James from work saying "I don't know who is sicker - me or my patients".  I didn't realize until after work that I was coming down with the flu.

    By Tuesday, Jan. 14, I was running a high fever and feeling absolutely terrible.  In that pre-Covid19 era (well, I guess it was already starting on the other side of the world - and who knows, maybe the flu I had was Covid...!) it didn't feel that strange to still go along to Winnipeg with James as we had planned.  He had an appointment at the pacemaker clinic and with his new cardiologist that I wanted to attend.  I loaded up on Advil and Tylenol and we tried to make the best of the day in Winnipeg together going to his appointments and he did a quick Costco run.  We were also starting to make plans to take time off work to drive to Fort Frances, ON later that week to go and support Mike and Jolene and attend the memorial for Madalyn.  It would be a 5-6 hour drive through the US and then back up into northwestern Ontario where they lived.  Again, this was pre-Covid time.  In the world we live in now in September 2021 I would not have left the house feeling as sick and feverish as I was - never mind a trip to Winnipeg or to a memorial service in another province.  How times have changed.

Morning Coffee With Jesus

     The next morning, I couldn't get out of bed again.  I took some Aleve (a strong pain-killer) and waited for it kick in.  James had had to leave early so I was on my own with the kids.  There was no way I could get them to school on time it seemed.  I finally had them to school by 10:45 am and then sat on the couch under a heated blanket the rest of the day.

    We have 4 kids - 2 boys and 2 girls - Ethan, Autumn, Elie, and Miles.  They were 14, 11, 7, and 5 at that time.  They were all in school although Miles was in Kindergarten and didn't have school every day.

    Jan. 8 I managed to get to work again - my job was part-time -only 2 1/2 days a week and it was somewhat do-able as a healthy mom of 4 kids.  We had a full and busy life - being a mom is a full-time job - especially with 4 kids but I enjoyed my job and we had thought keeping up my license as an RN was important - even though it meant for extra busy-ness in the midst of raising our family.  This was a tension I lived with - I often struggled with guilt as I felt I wasn't there enough for my kids - I was so often very tired and felt like I had to put my family as a lesser priority in between work, church, and community responsibilities.

    After work on Jan. 8 there was curling for Ethan and Autumn in Arborg (our town), so off I went with them.  We were also on to volunteer in the arena canteen that week but luckily the hockey game that night was cancelled and we got the evening off.

    The morning of January 10 will forever be imprinted in my memory.  It was a Friday, and the day I only worked half a day.  I woke up early and didn't feel too bad. I probably had some Aleve on board.  I made myself a cup of coffee and sat down to read my Bible.  I didn't always have morning devotions - as a lot of mornings I found myself sleeping in and then rushing to get ready for work.  However, this morning was different.  I woke up well on time and had a very meaningful time reading my Bible and praying to God.  I felt a calm and a peace filling up my soul.

    As I sat at my dining room table I could sense that I wasn't alone.  Just across from me, sitting with me, was Jesus.  I knew it.  I could feel Him. We sat there together and it felt like time stood still.  I didn't want to leave.  We just sat there together and it was so peaceful and good.  Then I felt/heard Him say to me, "You're going to be walking down a very hard road - but I will be with you - don't be afraid".  I felt assurance and love from Him - so much love - and I accepted this message.  Regretfully, I finally had to get up and finish getting ready for work.  I didn't want to leave Him or that moment.  It was so beautiful and good.  I knew it had been a special visitation from God and even though He is always with me and has promised to never leave me or forsake me - I believe He revealed Himself more clearly that morning to prepare me for the news I would be getting.

    The first thing I did at work on Friday mornings was attend the hospital rounds with all the physicians and some of the other nurses and hospital managers, etc.  Right after rounds, Dr. K. pulled me aside into the photocopy room.  She looked at me and said, "we got your blood work back".  I looked back at her - waiting.  What was she going to tell me?  I tried to read her body language - she seemed nervous.

    "Unfortunately, your double-stranded DNA test came back very high and your ANA test was positive as well," she said.

    These were not familiar tests to me.  "So, what does that mean?',  I asked.

    "Well, unfortunately, it looks to me like you probably have Lupus", she said.

    "Oh, I see," I said, "Is there any chance it might be something else?," I asked.

    "Those tests are actually highly specific to Lupus- so I'm pretty sure that's what you're dealing with", she said, "but you need to see a rheumatologist and get that confirmed.  So go see your family doctor and she can make a referral for you.  I'm sorry to be giving you this bad news".

    I was still feeling the peace from the morning I had had - and coupled with the shock of a possible chronic diagnosis - I didn't really feel anything at that point - my mind began to whir.  I thanked Dr. K. very much for her help and walked down the hallway to my office and sat down.

    Of course my first reaction was to call James.  We talked for a few minutes.  He asked me what Lupus was.  I said I didn't even really know that much about it except I remembered learning about it in nursing school and thinking to myself that if there ever was a disease I didn't want to get - it was Lupus.

    After getting off the phone, I tried to put it out of my mind and get down to my tasks at hand.  Thank the Lord for the mechanism of shock - it lets you compartmentalize things in those first few hours or days of upsetting news.

    I had a very busy day planned as Elie was having her 8th birthday party after school and was SO excited about it.  I couldn't afford to collapse or be a basket case that day.

    I got through my morning of work and rushed home to finish getting ready for her birthday party.  I didn't feel good at all and was so sore and tired - but when you're a mom, and your child is having a birthday party - it's 'all hands on deck'.  My sister, Christy, came over to help me get ready for the party and Autumn, our 11 year old, helped me run the party.  I wish I could say it was a success but dear Elie, the birthday girl, is also an introvert and the party ended up being too overwhelming for her.  She ended up hiding under her bed for part of the time in tears - hating being the centre of attention.  There I sat on the floor beside her bed trying to coax her out - barely able to pull myself off the floor...it was kind of a disaster.

    Eventually, the party was over and I collapsed on the couch.  James and I were supposed to be attending a church leadership meeting that evening together.  There were some big changes happening in our church as well as some conflict and tension.  All the leadership - which we were/are a part of - was meeting with our conference pastor that night to try and work through some of it.  It was an important meeting and I really didn't want to miss it.  But as I sat there on the couch under my heated blanket at 7:00 pm my body said, "NO".

    I knew there was no physical way I could go.  I was way too sick.

    

Time to See a Doctor

By Monday, Jan. 6/20, I knew something was seriously wrong.  I'm a Registered Nurse - I have been one since 2003 - and I couldn't ignore my symptoms any longer.  I was at work that day - sitting in my office at the Hodgson Renal Health Centre - phoning and meeting with clients.  My work as a Chronic Disease Nurse was fulfilling.  I loved meeting with my patients one-on-one and getting to spend that extra time with them - building relationships, listening, and trying to meet them where they were at.  My work was  primarily diabetes education and then follow-up as people tried to learn to live with diabetes.  I had been in this job since Sept. 2018 and although it had been a very steep learning curve for me I was starting to feel comfortable in my role and starting to really enjoy it.

But that day I was in agony.  As I met with clients I tried to hide the fact that I could hardly get out of my chair.  The ones I talked to on the phone had no idea that I was feeling sicker than most of them.

I wondered what to do.  I knew I would advise anyone else to go see a doctor.  What were my options? Do I walk down the hallway to the Percy E. Moore hospital ER and get assessed?  I knew all those nurses and doctors - it was kind of embarrassing.  My appointment with my family doctor wasn't until Jan. 23 and I couldn't wait that long.  I called my family doctor's clinic.  "Was there any cancellation or chance of me getting in sooner?" - the answer was a flat no.

Okay - I picked up the phone and called the Percy E. Moore clinic - or Ongomiizwin Clinic - to be more accurate.  They were also in the attached building next door.  I knew everyone there.  Luckily they had an opening for me that afternoon - so, at the end of my clinic day I hobbled down the long hallway, through the hospital, and over to the clinic waiting room.  Wouldn't you know, one of my patients I had just been speaking to on the phone was also in the waiting room waiting for an appointment.  I couldn't hide my discomfort as I slowly sat down.  We smiled and nodded to each other in sympathy.

Dr. K., who I saw, was one of my favourites to work with.  She's a young doctor, but so brilliant and was someone who often referred her diabetic clients to me.  It was kind of awkward for us to suddenly have a doctor-client relationship but she listened well, did a thorough assessment, and then sent me for a bunch of blood work.

I thanked her and went home after getting my blood work done.  I hoped and prayed that this was all just a passing thing.  Maybe a weird virus?  Some kind of allergy?  I didn't want to believe it could be anything too serious.

Christmas 2019

The extreme pain on Dec. 20 kind of passed over and I managed to get through the next few days and through Christmas.  I remember commenting to some friends and to my mom about how tired I felt and that my hands were really hurting me.  I found it hard to work with food in the kitchen or do dishes.  Advil helped.

At that time, we were also heavy into doing renovations on the farmhouse we had just bought from James' parents in November.  We had finally made the move to purchase the home quarter of land that James had grown up on, including the family farmhouse.  So - we were busy tearing down some walls and doing a complete re-model on it.  I love James' family very much but I really hadn't been excited about moving into my in-law's family home.  Renovating and making it "our own" was a way that I could get excited about it.  We were very happy about the prospect of finally being able to raise our family 'on the farm' instead of living 3 miles away and feeling detached from what was happening on the farm.  James and his dad farm in a partnership and grow grain and oil seeds, as well as run a cow-calf operation.  I grew up in the country - just across the field from James but my parents didn't farm.  So, being a farm wife has been a learning curve for me but I love it!

So in December 2019, our heads and hands were very busy with designing and renovating the farmhouse. I remember pulling a few all-nighters that Christmas season looking at Boxing Day sales online and trying to save money as I purchased furniture and appliances for our new home.  Looking back, those sleepless nights probably didn't help as my body was now combatting a new and strange beast that was threatening my health.  I still didn't know what was coming.

Waking Up to Pain

I woke up on December 20, 2019 to excruciating pain throughout my whole body.  It felt like I had been in a terrible car accident or been hit by a train.  I could barely move any muscle.  I couldn't roll over in bed.

The day before I had been in Winnipeg doing my last minute Christmas shopping - I had been in and out of the vehicle and in and out of the extreme Canadian prairie winter cold all day.  I had had also had a massage appointment.  As I lay in bed wondering what was going on - I told myself that my muscles must be reacting to the deep tissue massage, the long day of shopping and the cold.  How strange!

James, my dear husband, brought me some Advil and after an hour of lying in bed I was able to move slowly and dragged myself around getting our kids off to school.  It was the last day of school before Christmas holidays.  I had to go into work (as a Diabetes Education Nurse) for half the day - so I managed to get myself to work and get through the morning.  Thank the Lord for pain killers!

Little did I know the journey I was about to go on.

I Believe

I am a believer.  What does this mean?  It means I believe there is a Creator - a God who exists and moves and spoke the universe - the world - people - nature -everything - into existence.  I believe He loves His creation - and most of all He loves people - who He made in His own image.  We are His crowning achievement over everything else He made.  We are His children.

Long story short - we rebelled against Him.  But instead of wiping us out and starting over - He has been working to redeem us and a relationship with us ever since.  And that is where Jesus Christ comes into the story.  God came down to us as a human 2000 years ago.  He lived a perfect life of no sin - and in a perfect relationship with God, His Father, and then He voluntarily took the punishment meant for us onto Himself.  He died on a criminal's cross and then - because He is God - He conquered death and rose from the dead 3 days later.

He made a way for people to be made righteous - to be made right with God again - and ever since then we can know God intimately - we can be His children again.  Everything was put right.  All we have to do is believe.  It's so simple.  Just believe it and accept it.

So, I am a believer - I know Jesus Christ as my personal Saviour and Friend.  And honestly, if anything good comes of my illness and of me sharing my story - I would wish that every person that reads it would come to know Jesus in that same way.

It has made all the difference for me.  I have had some very dark moments along this road but through it all Jesus has been with me, He has carried me, and I know - without a shadow of a doubt - that He is real, that He loves me, that He will never leave me or forsake me and that my life with Him will continue on even after this body of mine (that at 41 years old is starting to really fail me) is finished here on earth - my soul will live forever in the Presence of God in a new body.

So that is the foundation of my life and of my story.  And it is a good, solid foundation.