A week or so ago, I was poised to write a post titled "Where I Was" - which was intended to explain the place I was in my life before everything changed for me. I scrapped it, because it came out sounding like a laundry list of bad things that had happened to me. But it's another important piece of the puzzle... because in order to understand where I am now - you must understand where I was then. So, instead of attempting to recall the original post (which I failed to save), I would like to post this more as a 'year in review'. I will warn you that it is long, as are most of my posts (I have a writer inside me struggling to get out!). I have tried to shorten it several times but I feel like that cheapens it - takes away from the picture I'm trying to convey - so it remains as is. Further, it has always been my desire to be completely honest through this blog (although some things will not be shared for privacy reasons) - I will not sugar-coat the truth here. If you have time and so desire, read. If you don't - that's just fine too. As always, many more thoughts are floating around my head - blog posts for days to come - but this one, for today. Without further adieu...
January
In January I began my second-to-last quarter of College with a heavy heart. As excited as I was about graduating, my best friend Angie had recently been diagnosed as terminal with the cancer she'd been fighting for over five years. They gave her 2-3 months to live - in November. I felt as though nothing I did, aside from spending time with her, mattered in the least. My best friend was dying. Any day, she could be gone. How could I care about alternative fuel sources or historic Spanish literature at such a time? In addition, I was dealing with chronic, debilitating physical pain of my own and scheduled surgery for my endometriosis for March 2. The month found my Dear Borrowed Kids living in a hotel, then with me, then with their grandmother. Then at the end of the month, the doctors found multiple tumors in Angie's brain. They said 2-3 weeks. It seemed like every situation in my life was worse than ever before. The only light I had... were those special days I spent with my best friend, enjoying each other's company, laughing over nothing, while we still had time.
February
If you'd asked me in January, I could've scarcely believed that February could be worse... but it was. The frustrations of January continued, and grew, and multiplied. Late in the month, it became apparent that my beloved cat Buckeye, nearing 17 years old, whom I'd had since I was five years old, was not simply 'slowing down in his old age' - he was dying. After what was essentially a heartwrenching emergency vet appointment on a Friday night, I was told he was in end stage renal failure. I asked if he was in pain, through my sobs. They told me that he could be, and that he was certainly uncomfortable. We were given medications to make him more comfortable. I didn't want euthenasia. I never believed that it was the right of man to decide who lived or died - human or animal. I took my baby home and spent the weekend with him... but by Sunday night, I knew. It wasn't fair to put him through this anymore. He was dying. It was going to happen, and soon. I held him close to me one last time on Sunday night, all night... I went to class and pretended to care... and then I came home and took pictures and snuggled him some more. Then we went to the vet, and I watched them put my baby to sleep on February 28, 2011. The liquid was orange. I'll never forget a single detail about that day. I took him home, wrapped him in one of my favorite sweatshirts, and buried my precious Buckeye.
In Memoriam
Doing his favorite thing... exploring the great outdoors.
And yet, through all this, guess who continued to hang on? Guess who was there for me as I cried the night I buried my kitty? My best friend Angie, of course. Facing a terminal diagnosis herself, she never once passed up an opportunity to help a friend. By the grace of God, we made memories that month, memories that I will never, ever forget.
March
March just did not start off on the right foot. Having just lost my lifetime feline companion, my heart was shattered. I was heading into surgery not knowing whether or not my best friend would still be alive when I came home. I was scared, to put it mildly. The night before my surgery, Angie and I were visiting an animal rescue - she and I were both intending to adopt kittens - and a stupid, silly little misunderstanding sent me into the hysterical sobs I'd been holding back for 24 hours. Once again - guess who was there to give me a hug, and tell me she was there for me? Oh, Angie, how much you did for everyone else, even as your own time drew to a close.
Then my surgery went bad. Two more surgeries, one of which was markedly more invasive than those prior, had to be performed simply to keep me alive. I was bleeding internally and my blood pressure had dropped to a dangerous level. I had to receive a blood transfusion while in surgery. All I remember is signing the consent form, and hearing them yell things like "Clear the OR" and "We need to get her some blood"... and looking up at my doctor as they were putting me under and croaking "Save me." I was so scared. There are large blocks of time about which I remember nothing at all. A simple outpatient procedure, turned so bad. I spent a week in the hospital. There were fears of infection and other complications. I was miserable - and I wasn't home where I could spend time with Angie while I still could. I could barely text her with all the medication constantly dripping into my IV. My texts came out garbled and hard to read. I didn't want her to visit because it could make her sick. Things didn't get much better when I went home. I was in a lot of pain for a long time. I had to take an incomplete on all my winter classes. As if all of this wasn't enough, things went bad with my two younger Dear Borrowed Kids, causing them to be abruptly withdrawn from my life - and loving them as though they were my own, this was a blow.
The end of March, however, found things looking up. My dear Angie was still fighting the good fight, we'd both adopted precious kittens. I had high hopes for things to come.
Introducing Boo, the adorable kitten.
April
Being my birth month, I had high hopes for this one, despite still reeling from the effects of a terrible March. The falling-out with the family of my two younger DBKs was hard, but I felt differently about it than I'd expected. I felt as though I'd made a choice that was in all of our best interests, and that the current situation was only temporary - so I was at peace. I was in the process of seeking an internship to complete my BA in Public Health, and hoping for something I'd really enjoy. As it so happened, I landed an absolutely perfect internship with the injury prevention department at the local health department, with whom I'd been volunteering at car seat checks for years. A few weeks into the internship, they offered to pay me - well. A couple weeks later, they told me they wanted to hire me when I graduated. It was like a dream come true! I never could have imagined things working out so well. Best of all, the end of the month came, and Angie and I were still playing games and laughing together, just like always. Even the best of the medical community cannot predict the will of God.
May
Like April, May brought good news. It certainly wasn't without its difficulties, but it was overall positive. I went to a fabulous conference both for my job/internship and for myself, in the process seeing a dear friend whom I hadn't seen in nearly a year, and in the same breath the parents of my missing DBKs called seeking to mend fences. I spent 30+ hours a week doing a job I loved, and my free time with the people I loved. Toward the end of the month, Angie started gearing up for her final Relay for Life - and we couldn't wait to cheer her on. She was getting sicker... but still smiling, still blessing us just by being her radiant self. May was good.
June
In June, the hard times started to come back. I was driving a car nearly as old as I was, and while I was thankful for it, I knew its days were coming to an end. It needed repairs I couldn't afford, and I didn't see any point in trying to afford them when I'd just be in the same place in a few months anyways. Finally, the brakes completely gave out and I made the decision to sell it and buy a new car. It was a little earlier than I'd hoped (I'd hoped to buy a car after graduation - Clyde (that was the car's name) apparently was a couple weeks off on that timetable), but it was what I wanted and what I felt was right for me and for the precious little ones I needed to transport safely! Have you ever watched the crash test for a 1990 model year vehicle? No? Okay, don't. Especially not if you drive one. Only by the grace of God was I saved - when I hit the brakes and they failed, I stopped literally inches from the bumper of the car in front of me. I puttered off to a safe place to call AAA. I could've hit that car in front of me... and become that crash test.
Well, finding a new car wasn't as easy as I'd hoped. I'd done extensive research into it over the past years, anticipating a post-graduation purchase and I was ready to go - but not only did I hit a snag, the situation kicked up some pretty devastating family drama. All this came to a point just as I was driving home from Relay for Life - watching my dear best friend make her final 'Survivor's Lap'. I was left feeling heartbroken, alone and as though no one had faith in me. What should have been a happy time of my graduation was instead painful.
Finally, towards the very end of the month, I was able to get a new car, with the help of my mom, who has been my rock throughout my entire life. I was excited and things seemed to be looking up heading into July.
July
There are no words for July. Loss. Heartbreak. Pain. Sadness. Mourning. None of these even begin to cover what we all felt when dear Angie died on July 15, 2011. No matter how hard I might try, I'll never forget the days leading up to that day... just... indescribable. Angie would've blushed and told me to stop flattering her, but she was my hero - not because she had cancer, but because she had cancer and she didn't let it stop her. Sure, she had her down moments, everyone does, but she just kept on going. She told me once "I didn't really have any other choice". Oh, dear Angie, how many times I've said those same words. My wonderful best friend is deserving of a blog post of her own, but that is for later. For now... a photo of the two of us:
I miss you every day, dear Angie. You are a huge part of who I've become.
August
They say "When it rains, it pours". This statement, I've found to be so true. August began with the struggles of July, then more struggles with my two younger DBKs. August delivered some bad medical news for me, which got me quite down for a while. My hours as a temporary employee at the job I loved were running out and the future of my employment still not cemented. Finally, at the end of the month, tensions which had been rising for a long time between myself and the family of my two younger DBKs came to a head, resulting in me losing them again. Further, my physical pain was slowly but steadily coming back, and I was wondering why, if I'd been through all this surgery just months earlier, was I in pain again? The end of the month came only with uncertainty.
September
This was a month which I spent largely at home, alone, which in retrospect was very bad for me. My heart was broken again by more bad medical news, even as it lay shattered with the loss of my best friend and pain for my DBKs. I worked periodically, rationing my last few hours, waiting for the day I could finally come back to work for good. Finances started to become difficult, but I chose not to get another job, because I was certain I'd be returning to my 'real' job soon. My physical pain had nearly reached pre-surgery levels and I started to look into other medical options, not excluding further surgery. More than anything, I was lonely. I spent so much of my time alone that even periodic gatherings of friends or family did little to ease the pain once I went back home. September ended with even more uncertainty than August.
October
I knew all along that October would be hard, I just didn't know how hard. You see, since my little DBK, A, was two years old, she has trick-or-treated with me. This year, I knew we wouldn't be together. It stung. My work hours completely ran out and pay essentially stopped but for a trickle of mileage checks. Still, I chose not to get another job, because surely I'd just have to quit in a couple of weeks anyways. October went the way of September.
November
Though not the month I hit rock bottom, November was a steady downward slide. I don't kid you when I say I'm lucky to have made it through alive. Pain levels were back to where they were before my March surgery, sometimes even as bad as the post-op pain. I was dependent on medication to even get through a day. I was depressed and heartbroken over the state of my life. My wonderful friends had noticed the change in me before I had and expressed concern, unfortunately leading to a turn of events which put us at odds and left me feeling even more alone than ever. My work hours and income were gone, but I'd finally interviewed for my position about a week and a half before Thanksgiving, so I felt that there was a light at the end of the tunnel, I'd at least be back to work and out of the house soon. However, the end of November came too soon, with the same uncertainty as the months before it - still no job, still no money, and now behind on bills and planning to schedule another surgery. It felt bleaker than bleak.
December
What can I say? December 2011. Probably the most transformative month of my life. Here is where this post gets divided into two parts - a 'before,' and an 'after'.
December did not come quietly into my life. On the very first day, it came with confirmation that I would have surgery - a good thing for my pain, but still scary, particularly at that time, having become more real and concrete in my mind. In the same day, I learned that I'd been passed over for the job I thought was mine since April. As it turns out, the effects of this economy are further reaching than any of us could have imagined, and circumstances precluded my superiors from being able to hire me. Some of them, I think, were hurt for me as I was for myself. I also think they were wrong - I do think I was the best person for that job - but who am I to decide right and wrong? Ultimately, I feel there was a reason for the way things happened... but at the time, it was a devastating and heartbreaking blow to the very essence of who I am, not to mention further complicating financial matters just before Christmas, when I'd had such high hopes for making a wonderful Christmas for my family this year. Further, it would be my first Christmas in six years without my little A - and the only Christmas season without AJ since he'd been born. I was not feeling the spirit of the season, and my faith was more than shaken.
But good things were slowly starting to happen. A little at a time, I began mending fences with the friends I'd fought with in the previous months. I felt as though there was a light at the end of the tunnel with regards to the everyday pain I was experiencing. I started taking a more active role in making myself happy. I was starting to heal, but I was still lower than low. I felt as though everything I'd worked toward thus far, every thing I lived for, was gone. What to do now? I had a heart to help... and I'd tried and tried and it seemed like I'd failed.
This, my friends, all that you have read up until this point, is the 'before'.
Here is the 'after'.
On December 3, 2011, just two days after the devastating news about my job, I saw this picture:
From http://theblessingofverity.com/ with permission.
Now, if you've not read my blog up until this post, or are not part of the adoption community, you may wonder why on earth a picture of a child in a car seat could turn a 'before' into an 'after'. Friends, let me tell you why. That child in the car seat, her name is Katie, and she is nine years old. She was adopted internationally, so malnourished that she weighed only 10 lbs. What happened from then on is chronicled in my very first blog post, here. There were nine days between laying my eyes on this precious child, and hearing God loud and clear in my own life. Through every single one of those days, I could not get that precious girl - and so many others like her - off my mind, or out of my heart. Not that I wanted to.
Friends, I can't begin to tell you how the end of December left me. Yes, I had surgery again. More tears were shed. More pain was had. More uncertainties were faced. More frustrations were voiced. But everything - and I mean everything - had been put into a whole new frame. Where I felt no purpose before, I felt renewed energy and a call from Above that was impossible to ignore. Every single one of those things that happened this year, and the one before it, and the one before that, on, and on, and on, had been preparing me for something - and doing a good job of it! (This is a bit I will elaborate on later). Where my faith was weak before, now it was strong. Where my joy was small before, it was now huge. Where my hope dwindled previously, it soared now. God was using me to do His work - and He knew me only too well - to know just how willing I'd be to do this 'work'. Purpose. It was everything.
I will say that my initial reaction to what I saw was an emotional one - akin to when I was a little girl and wanted to give a home to every stray cat. This is the truth. But remember, nine days passed between the day I saw that photo, and the day I made the decision to say Yes to God's call. Over those nine days, I thought of little else. I read, I learned, I prayed, I researched endlessly, I still do. The day I started this blog, my words were driven not by a temporary emotion, but by honest, informed determination; and so it has been ever since.
I am not naive about things to come. I know the reality. In one short month I've read and learned so much, watched events unfold. The road to the place I am today was not an easy one, it was rough and marred by obstacles, one after another. I expect no less of the road ahead - and I welcome it, because I know, the rewards are great. Because I know, this is right - and because I have Heaven on my side. I thought I knew what I was doing, where I was going, and I thought I'd failed, but the truth lies in a quote from one of my favorite movies: "Maybe God... has a bigger plan for me... than I had for myself." ~ A Walk To Remember
So, there it was. 2011. What, for all intents and purposes, should have been the worst year of my life - but for redemption in the Christmas season. I can't say I'm sorry to bid it farewell, but what I can say, is that I'm excited to see what 2012 brings... and the year after that, and the one after that, and the one after that... on, and on, and on.
No comments:
Post a Comment