My covid Journey — Home — Unaware of the War Lurking to Destroy Me

Yay! I'm going home!. 

Little did we know by tomorrow, 

I'd be back in the hospital.

With joy and excitement Dan brought me home loaded with war weapons — 

a walker, 

potty chair, 

shower chair,

 a large and loud oxygen concentrator

 (used to pump oxygen into my lungs), 

many oxygen tanks of all shapes and sizes, 

and feet and more feet and more feet of oxygen tubes

 (used to trip us throughout the day and night). 

We were armed and ready for war! 

Doctors said the covid soldiers occupying my lungs 

would not be defeated for at least six months. 

The battle began before I ever entered my front door.

 I couldn't walk.

Heavier artillery was needed.

 We didn't realize and no one told us I might need a wheel chair. 

  Collapsed and dead weight on my front sidewalk,

 we stayed calm. 

I assured Dan

I could sit on my fanny and scoot backwards up the sidewalk.

 What a sight! 

Tough and determined, I made it to the three stairs. 

Turning over on hands and knees I crawled up three stairs

 into our beautiful, peaceful, healthy home. 

Now what? 

Our daughters arrived to help and see their much-missed mama.

 Joy and emotions overtook me and I lost my breath, literally. 

Do you know what it is like to not be able to breathe? 

It's the worst. 

Gasping for breath that isn't there even with a breathing tube.

 covid soldiers had me down and 

continued thrusting daggers into my pneumonia-filled lungs. 

Pain unbearable, 

somehow, someone got me to bed as we all wondered, 

Why didn't the doctor send or prescribe the pain meds I had at the hospital?

Early morning I could not get up. 

Gasping for breath, 

my oxygen levels plummeting, 

the pain in my chest unbearable, 

I screamed for an ambulance. 

Dear, dear EMT's. 

So loving,

 so self-sacrificing. 

Do you think they wanted to touch this covid patient? 

I'm sure not.

Were they remembering one of their own who had recently died of covid?

Were thoughts of their own danger in their minds?

 Perhaps. 

Did they want to infect themselves and the inside of their ambulance with covid soldiers? 

 No way. 

But, they did. 

They cared.

They loved.

  Thoughts of my needs prevailed.  

Off we went to the hospital 

less than 24 hours from the joy-filled ride home the day before.

This is not such a happy post.

 Yet, in the end, we won the battle. 

I'm almost off all oxygen, 

back to bike riding with my husband, 

breathing well on my own, 

the pain in my chest is gone. 

Still, covid soldiers remain in 40 percent of both lungs. 

Six months later, 

doctors say another six months of recovery. 

We wait and hope and do not lose heart.

"Therefore we do not lose heart. 

Though outwardly we are wasting away,

 yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. 

For our light and momentary troubles 

are achieving for us an eternal glory that 

far outweighs them all.

 So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, 

but on what is unseen. 

For what is seen is temporary, 

but what is unseen is eternal."

 2 Corinthians 4:16

Whatever is going on in your life, pray, trust Jesus, and don't give up!

My covid Journey — And I Saw Jesus

My last night in the hospital.

She could have come in, 

checked my vitals, and

said "Good bye."

But she,

in spite of her own weariness, asked,

"Would you like me to wash your feet?"

And I see Jesus.

"Now that I the Lord and Teacher,

have washed your feet,

you also should wash one another's feet.

I have set you an example that you should do as

I have done for you."

~ Jesus ~

John 13:14-15

Make me a servant, Lord.

Show me how to ease the path of another's hard journey.

Open my eyes to their suffering.

Open my heart to their pain.

Open my mouth to bring comfort.

Open my hands to carry burdens.

Never judging.

Always loving.

Like the covid healthcare workers.

 

Like You, Jesus.

May I follow in Your steps.

Amen.

My covid Journey — The Three C's — Christ, cancer, covid

cancer and covid are similar diseases. 

Both cause 

pain, 

fear, and 

death as 

each maim and eat away at organs essential to live. 

cancer and covid attack in varying degrees. 

Whether we barely notice the symptoms, or 

suffer for the rest of our shortened lives, 

no one would choose either of these little c's.

I have cancer and I am still recovering from covid.

 My human suffering with covid was more severe than with cancer. 

I came closer to death with covid than with cancer. 

With covid I was isolated, 

with cancer I was surrounded by my loved ones.

 Leaving for my covid hospitalization, 

I could barely think, but 

I knew my Bible and my book, 

Praise the Lord and Pass the Chemo: A Hopeful Response to a Hard Reality would

 bring comfort and a reminder that 

Christ is my big C. 

Not covid. 

Not cancer.  

"Christ is the Big C" is 

a chapter in Praise the Lord and Pass the Chemo. 

Be encouraged by the following excerpt from that chapter. 

I've replaced the word "cancer" with the word "covid." 

They both apply. 

 Believe me!

 I know.

"covid is not the big C. Christ is the big C.

If we let covid replace Christ as our big C, 

our hearts may become bitter, or 

angry, or 

depressed, or 

anxious, or

 afraid, or

 all of these. 

 But when Christ takes His rightful place in our hearts,

 He fills us with His love,

 joy, 

peace, 

trust, and

 hope. 

So when the doubts and anxieties arise 

— and they will — 

let us remember who is the big C in our lives.

 Focus on Christ, not covid. 

And this is the secret

 — Christ lives in you! 

Who is more powerful in your life? 

Christ or covid?

 covid can eat away at your bones and cells,

 but covid can't touch your soul.

 covid can steal time,

 but covid can't take away a moment God planned for you. 

covid will not win the victory for your life.

 Christ already won it.

 Jesus Christ is the Big C.

 Keep your eyes on Jesus Christ the healer, 

not on covid the destroyer. 

covid is vicious, 

but Christ is the Victory!"

Christ is the Big C. 

"I have been crucified with Christ; and

 I no longer live, 

but Christ lives in me." 

Galatians 2:20

If you are looking for a book for yourself or to give a covid patient, I recommend Praise the Lord and Pass the Chemo. Trust me. Covid patients need A Hopeful Response to the Hard Reality of covid.

My Covid Journey — When My Bubble Burst

The writing was on the wall.

I woke each morning to a white board greeting:

Elaine Miller weight _________________.

Well, good morning to you too!

Will someone send me a sledgehammer please.

The truth is the drugs pumped into me 24/7 made me round.

I laughed realizing five years ago 

when diagnosed with leukemia and a compromised immune system,

"You need to live in a bubble."

 were my oncologist's instructions.

Covid popped that bubble.

So, instead of living in a bubble, ha!

I was round like a bubble.

And my dear Dan says,

"You'll be my bubbleicious!"

Unfortunately, neither bubble baths nor showers are 

safe for anyone on massive oxygen.

 "Spa Day," 

announced a health care worker.

 What a great scalp massage she gave, 

washing my hair using the

cute shower cap filled with dry shampoo.

After weeks of dry shampoos, 

I was hungry for a real shower and shampoo.

My request was denied.

"You can not take that amount of oxygen into a shower.   

It isn't safe."

The nurse's response was final.

 "Easy solution! 

Take me off the oxygen and 

let me jump in the shower for a real quick shampoo.

I promise, I'll hurry."

"If you got a shower without the oxygen,

you would die."

My bubble burst.

The reality of the gravity of my disease hit me.

And yet,

 I knew

God's peace,

God's joy,

God's presence,

God's love. 

And God knew

my heart for Him,

my love for Him,

my peace in Him,

my assurance of Him.

Isn't it wonderful we have a God who doesn't care if 

we look like a bubble or a toothpick. 

Whether our hair is dirty or clean, 

He doesn't notice. 

I was a mess in my own eyes, 

but in God's eyes, well, 

He saw my heart.

" . . . . the Lord does not look at the things people look at. 

People look at the outward appearance, but 

the Lord looks at the heart." 

1 Samuel 16:7

 

My covid Journey — The Nurse Saw an Angel

The supernatural can happen when severely ill.

God heals terminal patients.

Peace arrives in turmoil.

Joy replaces fear.

Angels surround your bed.

God takes an old lady and makes her beautiful.

Ha!

I'm that old lady.

In ICU with covid, I still needed my every-six-weeks cancer treatment.

The Corning cancer Center brought my three-hour infusion to my ICU room. 

For this procedure, I am sedated slightly.

You know, where you are aware of people talking but you are unable to respond.

On this day, I heard the nurses' conversation:

"I've never seen anyone in such a deep sleep."

"Isn't she beautiful."

 

 "She looks like an angel."

Are you kidding me?

Beautiful was not me on this day.

No shower.

No shampoo.

For. Over. Three. Weeks.

And yet,

the nurse saw an angel.

I've pondered this day in my covid recovery and realized

I was at my lowest and ugliest.

 But, 

the nurse saw an angel.

A supernatural event.

Perhaps closest to death, 

I was also closest to Jesus.

He so filled me with His Glory 

 that the reflection on my face was

Jesus Himself.

"And we, 

who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord's glory,

are being transformed into His likeness 

with ever-increasing glory, 

which comes from the Lord, 

Who is the Spirit."

2 Corinthians 3:18  

My Covid Journey — The Big Guns Come Out

My doctors put out the big guns.

I am on an infusion marathon to fight covid-19.

IV's in both arms drip life and healing into my body.

We hope and we pray.

The biggest gun of all arrived.

Convalescent Plasma.

The bag above, 

filled with someone's plasma,

dripped life into my decaying body.

Drip.

Drip. 

Drip.

I stared at that yellow bag, 

knowing it was my last hope. 

There were no other drugs to give. 

  I cried  

All night. 

I couldn't stop crying.

    

My tears were joyful drops.

I prayed not for myself,

I prayed thanksgiving to the one who gave their life for me.

You see, someone, somewhere survived covid-19.

Whoever that person is,

 whose plasma was 

now dripping into my body, 

has a heart of gold.

They gave their time to go to a blood donation center.

They gave up time indulging themselves, 

and they thought of me.

Some old lady, 

they never met,

 so she can have a few more years to live.

They gave gas money,

 possibly sick time from their job, 

They gave time spent with the people they love

so I can have more time with the people I love.

Some say, 

"I'm done with covid. 

Now, let me go play."

Others say,

 "I'm done with covid.

 Now, who can I help this day?"

Thank you

convalescent plasma donors.

You rock.

You remind me of Jesus.

Just like Him,

you shed your blood so I can live.

"Be imitators of God, therefore,

as dearly loved children and

live a life of love,

just as Christ loved us and

gave Himself up for us as a fragrant offering and

sacrifice to God."

Ephesians 5:1-2

How can you live a life of love today?

Please consider being a blood donor.

You may save a life.

Just like Jesus.

My Covid Journey — Road Trip — ICU

My oxygen level fell fast.

"We're taking you to ICU." 

 Making light of a serious situation, I responded,

 "Road Trip — ICU!"

Waving the Queen's wave all the way down the hall, I smiled and greeted my new team of caregivers.  

Intensive Care Unit.

 Not a good place for blood cancer patients who have 

  a high mortality rate when their covid-19 diagnosis warrants a trip to ICU.

Like a rock, I delivered the blow to my family. 

 Crushing. 

My husband pledged his undying (appropriate term) love to me.

 My children stayed strong for mom and dad.

Too numb for words.

 

My oldest broke the shock with her comfort and wisdom,

 "I'm glad you are going to ICU. 

They will know how to take care of you and make you better." 

She was right.

Keeping my eyes and thoughts on Jesus,

 I remembered His words on the cross, 

"My God, my God why have you forsaken me?" 

I didn't feel like Jesus felt.

God had not forsaken me. 

He was never closer. 

Total peace, 

calm, and

 excitement as

 I realized,

"Wow! I might see Jesus soon. 

Heaven, here I come!"

I thought of  Jesus.

Days before He died

He asked His disciples to pray with Him. 

They didn't pray. 

They fell asleep. 

My friends, however, continued to keep watch.

 Prayers poured in — all day and all night. 

A mighty army of prayers covered me. 

God never left me.

Thankful for each prayer,  

I slept in the knowledge that

if I died, it wasn't for lack of people praying for me.

Startled.

Bells woke me in the middle of the night.

I wondered,

Why are bells ringing?

Do bells ring when you go to Heaven?

Is that "my bell" announcing my arrival to the Heavenlies?

Startled again.

 A shrill Stop! whistle.

  I hear my husband's voice pleading,

"Please God don't take her from me."

Hallucination? or

Was I so near Heaven, 

I heard my husband communing with God and 

experiencing God's answer to prayer in real time?

Either way, 

the night was powerful and 

the beginning to my road trip to recovery.

How about you? 

Do you know for sure you will go to Heaven?

Are you excited to go to Heaven?

If not,

please read the New Testament, 

speak to a Bible-teaching minister, 

talk to me, 

ask a Christian friend,

 go to a Bible-teaching church,

give your heart and life to Jesus. 

"For God so loved the world that 

He gave his one and only Son, that 

whoever believes in Him 

shall not perish 

but have eternal life."

John 3:16

Our Covid Journey — When a Man Loves a Woman

 "So she became his wife, and

he loved her."

Genesis 24:64

 I have a man who sings me to sleep at night. 

One might think he carefully chose the songs, but 

they were too perfect for a human mind to put together.

 God The Holy Spirit, filled Dan with words of 

scripture, 

prayer,

 song,  

 love. 

I needed to breathe.

My body was not cooperating.

covid-19 ate away at my lungs

as God and Dan filled my heart with His love and His song.

 We clung to each other, as 

we clung to the Lord, 

watching, 

waiting, 

hoping,

devastated, but

 filled with hope and faith and trust as 

my condition declined.

We knew and believed the truth of Romans 8:38-39:

"I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God's love.

Neither death nor life,

neither angels nor demons,

neither our fears for today

nor our worries about tomorrow —

not even the powers of hell can separate us from God's love.

No power in sky above or earth below —

indeed, nothing in all creation

will ever be able to separate us

from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord." 

Death can come at any time.

We rested in God's Sovereignty and love.

Thankful that over fifty years ago

I became Dan's wife, and he loved me.

Dan became my husband, and I loved him.

No regrets.

In life and in death

Jesus is our Savior.  

 He loves us and we love Him.

God placed a song in our hearts,

and so we believe and we breathe and we sing! 

Perhaps you know someone who needs a song today.

Don't wait to love the people you love.

 

My Covid Journey — Zelda — My Ticket Out of the Hospital

Zelda.

 I named this gadget Zelda.

 Not sure why. 

I didn't have brain cells left to remember it was a spirometer 

— an apparatus for measuring the volume of air inspired and expired by the lungs.

 I thought of the ugliest name I could think of 

(for I was in an ugly state of mind).

I came up with Zelda (with apologies to any Zelda's reading this). 

Zelda was my ticket out of the hospital. 

Every doctor, nurse, respiration therapist, and physical therapist

 reminded me and challenged me with this information.

I hated Zelda. 

covid pneumonia resided in both of my lungs. 

People are affected differently with covid.

 Some have headaches, some vomit. 

My body didn't have time for those maladies. 

My lungs were busy being taken over by an enemy named covid pneumonia.

Pain. 

Oh, the pain. 

Like I had never known. 

Breathe in. 

PAIN. 

Breathe out.

 PAIN. 

Every breath in and out felt like someone was 

stabbing my chest with a butcher knife.

Moving Zelda's bar to 1500 was the goal.

 I could barely move the breathing bar past 250.

Discouragement,

 pain, 

hopelessness

 grew in my heart as 

covid pneumonia filled my lungs. 

The prayers kept coming.

 Hundreds (perhaps thousands) of people praying for me. 

What a powerful cheerleading squad. 

The pain didn't subside, but

the Holy Spirit worked in my determination and will.

 I needed to see my husband. 

Zelda was my ticket home.

Over three weeks later, 

my breathing level reached 500. 

The doctors relented, 

and sent me home with my ticket — Zelda.

Ha! 

Zelda was not my ticket home!

 

 God and 

all the faithful prayers reaching Heaven on my behalf were 

my ticket home.

"And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; 

the Lord will raise them up . . . . " 

James 5:15

Thank you, dear prayers. 

You saved my life.

God used your prayers 

(with a little help from Zelda)

to make me well.

I will be thankful to Him, to you, and to Zelda

forever.

Amen.

Splashes of Serenity,