~RR
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Our New Love
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Reflecting on My Post Surgery Life
For the past ten days (between the 4 year anniversary of the my entering the hospital and leaving the hospital), I couldn't help but relive those days, contemplating all I have learned since my stay. I have pondered all the events that piece together the road I took that has led me to where I am now. After re-reading my journal entry from 4 years ago, I realized how some of the small details I had left out, made the largest impacts in my life.
Fish Camp:
In my journal entry, I failed to take note of a very small detail, only because I did not realize its importance at the time: The doctor in the ER who diagnosed me with Crohn's (because he had a son with colitis and a daughter with Crohn's who underwent my same surgery) asked his daughter if she would visit me in the hospital, because she was also an Aggie. Following the surgery, after the extreme morphine days when I can actually recall who visited me, this girl came and talked to me. She talked about her life post-surgery (probably one of the calming conversations at the time-to know other people had this operation and were doing fine). She discussed her ability to eat 'good' foods again (ice cream and pizza!). But most importantly, she mentioned how she was a Fish Camp Counselor, and she told me I HAD to go to Fish Camp because it'll be a lot of fun and the 'Ice Berry Blue' was to die for. [I later found out this was a drink in the cafeteria at the camp; anyone who has gone to Fish Camp will most likely be able to share about its wondrous tastes. In my experience, counselors and freshmen returned from camp with Nalgenes filled with this stuff]. Her willing to share with me, a random girl in her dad's hospital, was truly the first experience I had with the Aggie Family and my first glimpse of Fish Camp. When I left the hospital, I was told I needed to stay at home, rest and recover for 6 weeks. And on the 7th week, I went to the Fish Camp I had registered for months before. I enjoyed the Fish Camp experience so much as a freshman, thanks to my wonderful Camp, DG, Counselors, and friends I made from Fish Camp, not to mention the first impression the doctor's daughter made on me, I applied for Counselor the following spring. In the Spring of 2009, I became a counselor for Fish Camp Olvera; little did I know God had much more in store for me than just being a counselor; this was the camp I met and became friends with James, my husband of almost a month. This small detail of my surgery story still amazes me and brings me to tears; how God can make one single event waterfall into so many blessings, all in His time and according to His schedule.
The Diet:
Before the surgery, while I was having intestinal issues, my diet consisted of plain bread, plain pasta, boiled vegetables, plain chicken or turkey, ground turkey, and butter and salt as the only "spices". The day before being admitted into the ER, I had eaten a can of olives, because I found that was about all I could eat. We now joke about the infamous can of black olives that set me over and sent me into the hospital; Black Olives are still my favorite foods. I had lost much weight my senior year of high school, and later I heard many people believed I had an eating disorder. When I left the hospital I weighed 100 pounds (for a 5foot6 girl, that's way too light). I often joke about my 'freshmen 30' that I gained during my first year of college; however, gaining back my weight and maintaining a consistent jean size has been THE best feeling. Knowing I can buy a pair of jeans and still fit into it in 3 months has been a great achievement since my surgery. Since I lack 3 feet of intestines, I must take Iron pills and eat foods high in Iron (since the large intestines is where Iron absorption occurs). I can't eat corn, popcorn, or large amounts of salads due to the high amount of fiber in the foods. I believe this compromise (with my intestines) is quite acceptable; although there are times when I truly miss corn-on-a-cob or a big dinner salad. I also have a new perspective on ridiculously skinny people; those individuals one would normally pick out of a crowd and ask one's friend, 'do you think he/she is anorexic?' After having health issues that led me to be extremely skinny/look borderline eating disorder, I can't help but stop myself from thinking along those lines and wonder if they are having health issues. God has opened my eyes to care for people in a way I hadn't before.
My Scar:
The surgery left a noticeable scar; an approximate 3 inch vertical scar under my belly button. Most of the time I can ignore the stares and glances from other people when I venture into public pools or beaches. All of the time I wish I could stop and share with every single person what that scar means to me. When I see the scar every day, what it reminds me of:
-The physical memories: pain before the surgery and all the times I spent throwing up due to eating food my stomach just couldn't digest, inability to eat normal foods, the inability to drink yellow Gatorade now after I had to consume so much of it for my CAT scan, watching 4th of July fireworks from my hospital room, how bad it hurt to sneeze for months after my surgery, the 'hand grenade' that was practically attached to me to soak up everything during the week after the surgery, how it took me almost 4 years to gain back my ab strength I had before since I could barely do crunches for a year following my surgery.
-The mental: knowledge I have acquired about intestinal diseases, learning how to reduce my stress and focus on a carefree life (I wish that could happen completely!), my learning about allergies and foods.
-The Angels in my life: the people and friends who have been there to help, to offer support, to ask questions and want to hear my story, the woman who walked into Jason's Deli one of the last days I worked before I went to college and was able to share her Crohn's story with me and my dad when I was getting off work, the scholarship donor who called a month after my surgery when he learned why I had missed the scholarship reception: he was also living with Crohn's and warned me of the pains of popcorn.
and most importantly:
-God's miraculous healing- falling asleep the night before the surgery feeling nothing but peace and feeling Jesus holding my hand during the night and through the surgery, telling my parents right before I left into the surgery that they won't find what they were looking for because God had healed me, hearing after the surgery that the doctors indeed did not find the 10 feet the CAT scan revealed needed to be removed, only a smaller portion (Humans only have 30 feet total of intestines, 10 feet and 3 feet are a huge difference).
There are days when I feel down, stressed, worried, etc., and on those days, my Lord only has to remind me of my scar, my memories, my experience, MY story. I immediately feel ashamed I have doubt in His ability to take care of me. I can't explain why this experience has happened to me; I believe some people, like myself, have miracles happen to them, some get to see them, and others just get to hear about them. My healing miracle didn't just happen for my own healing; every time I share my story, I am able to bring glory to Him who heals, who keeps His promises, who brings joy and peace. I feel compelled to share, for all of those people in my world who have not experienced a miracle [yet], so that they too may hear of God's greatness and faithfulness.
I was raised with an evangelical pentecostal foundation in church. My miraculous healing story only solidifies my belief in the baptism of the Holy Spirit, speaking and praying in tongues, laying on of hands, and of miracles. I have been in church Sunday School classes in college where a group discussion leads to opinions about these topics. I have heard that 'miracles don't happen now a days because they don't need to'; I have been told 'speaking in tongues was only for the church in Acts, because people don't need to hear it to believe' and 'speaking in tongues is only used to show to outsiders about the Holy Spirit'. At this point of the conversation, I share: I stand a healed woman, steadfast in my beliefs that actually Baptism in the Holy Spirit, speaking and praying in tongues and miraculous healing DOES occur in the 21st Century. I can share my story and my experience, but only those with open hearts seeking God can take in all that I say. These events DO happen now-a-days, I come from a church where they DID occur, I have a story where they all played a large role in my healing. It makes me sad to think Christians deny these gifts of the Spirit exist or NEED to exist, but I always ask, "Are you seeking them? Are you knocking on God's door for them? Are you steadfast in asking for them?" Who's to say this world does not need these gifts? I see a world full of pain, individuals searching for answers and peace, lost people desiring the wrong things to try to feel satisfied. This world needs God and all of His gifts of the Spirit. I need them.
My walk with the Lord since the surgery has led to changed attitudes, perspectives, friendships and my relationship with Him. He has led me to and away from people, places, and things. I have been humbled and acknowledge I am nothing without Him. He gave me Godly friends, a wonderful, fully scholarship funded college experience, an amazing degree, a job near home, a perfectly placed home next to Aggie neighbors who bring us to church, and a driven husband following my Lord. He has also taught me everything goes according to His plan, all in His time.
I sometimes find it hard to share every little detail of my stay; I find it hard to talk about my experience without forming tears of joy. I had wondered in high school what my testimony was; I thank God for it now. And all it takes is a quiet whisper from Him or glace at my scar to remind me of His love for me, and all mankind.
Fish Camp:
In my journal entry, I failed to take note of a very small detail, only because I did not realize its importance at the time: The doctor in the ER who diagnosed me with Crohn's (because he had a son with colitis and a daughter with Crohn's who underwent my same surgery) asked his daughter if she would visit me in the hospital, because she was also an Aggie. Following the surgery, after the extreme morphine days when I can actually recall who visited me, this girl came and talked to me. She talked about her life post-surgery (probably one of the calming conversations at the time-to know other people had this operation and were doing fine). She discussed her ability to eat 'good' foods again (ice cream and pizza!). But most importantly, she mentioned how she was a Fish Camp Counselor, and she told me I HAD to go to Fish Camp because it'll be a lot of fun and the 'Ice Berry Blue' was to die for. [I later found out this was a drink in the cafeteria at the camp; anyone who has gone to Fish Camp will most likely be able to share about its wondrous tastes. In my experience, counselors and freshmen returned from camp with Nalgenes filled with this stuff]. Her willing to share with me, a random girl in her dad's hospital, was truly the first experience I had with the Aggie Family and my first glimpse of Fish Camp. When I left the hospital, I was told I needed to stay at home, rest and recover for 6 weeks. And on the 7th week, I went to the Fish Camp I had registered for months before. I enjoyed the Fish Camp experience so much as a freshman, thanks to my wonderful Camp, DG, Counselors, and friends I made from Fish Camp, not to mention the first impression the doctor's daughter made on me, I applied for Counselor the following spring. In the Spring of 2009, I became a counselor for Fish Camp Olvera; little did I know God had much more in store for me than just being a counselor; this was the camp I met and became friends with James, my husband of almost a month. This small detail of my surgery story still amazes me and brings me to tears; how God can make one single event waterfall into so many blessings, all in His time and according to His schedule.
The Diet:
Before the surgery, while I was having intestinal issues, my diet consisted of plain bread, plain pasta, boiled vegetables, plain chicken or turkey, ground turkey, and butter and salt as the only "spices". The day before being admitted into the ER, I had eaten a can of olives, because I found that was about all I could eat. We now joke about the infamous can of black olives that set me over and sent me into the hospital; Black Olives are still my favorite foods. I had lost much weight my senior year of high school, and later I heard many people believed I had an eating disorder. When I left the hospital I weighed 100 pounds (for a 5foot6 girl, that's way too light). I often joke about my 'freshmen 30' that I gained during my first year of college; however, gaining back my weight and maintaining a consistent jean size has been THE best feeling. Knowing I can buy a pair of jeans and still fit into it in 3 months has been a great achievement since my surgery. Since I lack 3 feet of intestines, I must take Iron pills and eat foods high in Iron (since the large intestines is where Iron absorption occurs). I can't eat corn, popcorn, or large amounts of salads due to the high amount of fiber in the foods. I believe this compromise (with my intestines) is quite acceptable; although there are times when I truly miss corn-on-a-cob or a big dinner salad. I also have a new perspective on ridiculously skinny people; those individuals one would normally pick out of a crowd and ask one's friend, 'do you think he/she is anorexic?' After having health issues that led me to be extremely skinny/look borderline eating disorder, I can't help but stop myself from thinking along those lines and wonder if they are having health issues. God has opened my eyes to care for people in a way I hadn't before.
My Scar:
The surgery left a noticeable scar; an approximate 3 inch vertical scar under my belly button. Most of the time I can ignore the stares and glances from other people when I venture into public pools or beaches. All of the time I wish I could stop and share with every single person what that scar means to me. When I see the scar every day, what it reminds me of:
-The physical memories: pain before the surgery and all the times I spent throwing up due to eating food my stomach just couldn't digest, inability to eat normal foods, the inability to drink yellow Gatorade now after I had to consume so much of it for my CAT scan, watching 4th of July fireworks from my hospital room, how bad it hurt to sneeze for months after my surgery, the 'hand grenade' that was practically attached to me to soak up everything during the week after the surgery, how it took me almost 4 years to gain back my ab strength I had before since I could barely do crunches for a year following my surgery.
-The mental: knowledge I have acquired about intestinal diseases, learning how to reduce my stress and focus on a carefree life (I wish that could happen completely!), my learning about allergies and foods.
-The Angels in my life: the people and friends who have been there to help, to offer support, to ask questions and want to hear my story, the woman who walked into Jason's Deli one of the last days I worked before I went to college and was able to share her Crohn's story with me and my dad when I was getting off work, the scholarship donor who called a month after my surgery when he learned why I had missed the scholarship reception: he was also living with Crohn's and warned me of the pains of popcorn.
and most importantly:
-God's miraculous healing- falling asleep the night before the surgery feeling nothing but peace and feeling Jesus holding my hand during the night and through the surgery, telling my parents right before I left into the surgery that they won't find what they were looking for because God had healed me, hearing after the surgery that the doctors indeed did not find the 10 feet the CAT scan revealed needed to be removed, only a smaller portion (Humans only have 30 feet total of intestines, 10 feet and 3 feet are a huge difference).
There are days when I feel down, stressed, worried, etc., and on those days, my Lord only has to remind me of my scar, my memories, my experience, MY story. I immediately feel ashamed I have doubt in His ability to take care of me. I can't explain why this experience has happened to me; I believe some people, like myself, have miracles happen to them, some get to see them, and others just get to hear about them. My healing miracle didn't just happen for my own healing; every time I share my story, I am able to bring glory to Him who heals, who keeps His promises, who brings joy and peace. I feel compelled to share, for all of those people in my world who have not experienced a miracle [yet], so that they too may hear of God's greatness and faithfulness.
I was raised with an evangelical pentecostal foundation in church. My miraculous healing story only solidifies my belief in the baptism of the Holy Spirit, speaking and praying in tongues, laying on of hands, and of miracles. I have been in church Sunday School classes in college where a group discussion leads to opinions about these topics. I have heard that 'miracles don't happen now a days because they don't need to'; I have been told 'speaking in tongues was only for the church in Acts, because people don't need to hear it to believe' and 'speaking in tongues is only used to show to outsiders about the Holy Spirit'. At this point of the conversation, I share: I stand a healed woman, steadfast in my beliefs that actually Baptism in the Holy Spirit, speaking and praying in tongues and miraculous healing DOES occur in the 21st Century. I can share my story and my experience, but only those with open hearts seeking God can take in all that I say. These events DO happen now-a-days, I come from a church where they DID occur, I have a story where they all played a large role in my healing. It makes me sad to think Christians deny these gifts of the Spirit exist or NEED to exist, but I always ask, "Are you seeking them? Are you knocking on God's door for them? Are you steadfast in asking for them?" Who's to say this world does not need these gifts? I see a world full of pain, individuals searching for answers and peace, lost people desiring the wrong things to try to feel satisfied. This world needs God and all of His gifts of the Spirit. I need them.
My walk with the Lord since the surgery has led to changed attitudes, perspectives, friendships and my relationship with Him. He has led me to and away from people, places, and things. I have been humbled and acknowledge I am nothing without Him. He gave me Godly friends, a wonderful, fully scholarship funded college experience, an amazing degree, a job near home, a perfectly placed home next to Aggie neighbors who bring us to church, and a driven husband following my Lord. He has also taught me everything goes according to His plan, all in His time.
I sometimes find it hard to share every little detail of my stay; I find it hard to talk about my experience without forming tears of joy. I had wondered in high school what my testimony was; I thank God for it now. And all it takes is a quiet whisper from Him or glace at my scar to remind me of His love for me, and all mankind.
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