Diagnosis Failure and Perspective

What do you do when you know something is wrong with your body and yet all the tests provide no definitive answer? I can open my mouth and show you the sores in it. I can show you where my tongue has turned color. It's not cancer, it's not a stain. It's a mystery. I can show you the rash on my face. It is not lupus. It is not rosacea. What is it? Why does it accompany extreme fatigue and joint pain? You can see my eyelids are red and angry looking but antibiotics, ointments and eye drops don't make it go away. My guts aren't working properly but it's not colitis, Crohn's, not a h-pylori, but they are inflamed. Why? What do you do when you don't know what you're fighting?

You rejoice. I am a saved woman. It's all good after that.

You pray. Pray for patience. Lord, help me cope with these annoying and often debilitating symptoms as befitting a woman of God. And please, let the doctor changing my medications be a step in the right direction. I beg You for the willpower and wisdom to do the things the doctor says will help.

You change what you can. Going gluten free is a royal pain in the, well, you know, not to mention the hurt it will put to your pocket, but it has helped relieve some of my more extreme intestinal symptoms. The doctor didn't say I was imagining symptoms, he said they weren't caused by any of the diseases he suspected. So keep going gluten free, Rosemarie and learn to like it. In fact, be glad you have found some relief. He also said that my inability to get proper sleep was likely making all of my known maladies and symptoms exponentially worse. So bu-bye caffeine I love so well. Bu-bye late night TV when I can't sleep.

I need to stop doing things I know are aggravating injuries. I am proud and I am stubborn. I know my neck and back have major malfunctions and I push myself to the point of pain, so much pain that I can't sleep through it even with drugs. Less stuff to take care of equals less stuff to cause me agony. Simplify whenever possible. I know I need to lose weight and succumb to call for chocolate and ice-cream way too often. My accomplishment journal is still a wicked-smart idea for me. I just need to redefine what I consider accomplishments.

You cultivate gratitude. Thank you, Lord that I do not have any of the scary diseases the doctor was testing for and expected to find. Thank you, Lord that I have medical insurance. Thank you that my new doctor is a brother in Christ. Thank you that if he is right and all these things really are separate problems stacked one upon another, that all the doctors I have seen thus far: ophthalmologist; internist; gastroenterologist; immunologist and neurologist are all working together. Thank you that all their tests, though they have not answered this problem, have uncovered problems that could have had catastrophic results for me if left untreated. Mostly Lord, thank you that this body isn't the one I will be stuck with in eternity.

^{Psalm 139:13-16}

13 For You formed my inward parts;
You wove me in my mother’s womb.
¹⁴ I will give thanks to You, for ^[j]I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Wonderful are Your works,
And my soul knows it very well.
¹⁵ My frame was not hidden from You,
When I was made in secret,
And skillfully wrought in the depths of the earth;
¹⁶ Your eyes have seen my unformed substance;
And in Your book were all written
The days that were ordained for me,
When as yet there was not one of them.

Super Church a song for the Emergent-sy

In the early 70s I was in a youth choir at my church. Our youth pastor was a musician and his way of connecting with us as a group was through the choir and music. Somehow there was an affiliation between him and The Continental Singers, New Hope and Jeremiah People. He was worked with Moishe Rosen of Jews for Jesus too, I think. Are any of these names familiar to you? Though I remember the church fondly I was a profoundly lost and troubled young woman during my years there. That and time have muddled the memories quite a bit. Today I was digging through some old paperwork and one of the books to the musical we did. It's Getting Late For the Great Planet Earth, a folk rock oratorio by Cam Floria. Yes, that's right. Cam Floria put Hal Lindsey to music. There's a lot to laugh about and some to groan about but as I was looking through the songs and remembering, I found this little ditty and I only wish I could sing it for you. Just remember that this is circa 1972 and even th...

It's all part of growing up

Today is my birthday. I am 51. I have officially lived longer than my mother. I have survived several major earthquakes, three fires, five floods, uterine cancer, having my infant body burned by percolating coffee and a childhood from hell. I have been stalked by a madman, been asked to be interviewed for the Australian version of 60 Minutes, received a bronze medal and helped foil a kidnap attempt of a celebrity. In my short 51 years, I have had an incredible life. I was asked by a former student what advice I would give a 30 year old that I have come to value now that I am in my 50s. The list of things that I value now that I didn't value then and vice versa is huge. Since my current topic is discipline, I would have to say that I wish I had cultivated discipline at an earlier age. Much earlier than my 30s. I wish I had learned the difference between need and want sooner. I have tried too hard to fulfill wants as if they were needs. The want vacuum just moves, it doesn...

Review Part Two of Voices of the True Woman Movement A Call to the Counter-Revolution

It is a glorious day in Kentucky. The humidity is gone. Mornings are crisp, evenings cool and it is toasty warm during the day. This morning I sat out on my front porch enjoying the birds, flowers and gentle breeze. I took with me an outstanding cup of Colombian coffee and my Voices of the True Woman Movement book. Before I started reading I took a moment to think about my stereotypical idea of the perfect Christian woman. In my mind she is perfectly dressed, perfectly coiffed, and demure. She speaks in dulcet tones and only when she has something encouraging to say. There is no doubt that her make-up is the perfect shade and she uses just enough to allow her to radiate a pleasing angelic glow. Her nails are manicured. Her feet are Barbie-like. She is Jackie O and June Cleaver combined with an encyclopedic knowledge of Scripture and a repertoire that includes a series of perfectly timed, perfectly targeted encouragement statements. She and I look nothing alike. As I inventor...

rambling rosemarie

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