Rocks and Hard Places

My rheumatologist is a genuinely funny man. Hes decided to scrap the drug therapies we were trying to go in an entirely different route. He knows I don't like taking drugs so when I asked him, "And what are the potential side effects to this drug vs. the potential benefits?" He was ready. After a long pause and with a pensive look on his face he said; "Side effects? You mean besides the third leg you'll sprout and the way your skin turns green? Nothing that wouldn't seem normal to you. You *are* from California, right? Yeah anything that happens shouldn't alarm you."

His theory is that my pain isn't caused as much by my arthritis as it is by nerve damage that decades of untreated pernicious anemia has caused. He wants to try a drug that works by disrupting my neurons abilities to deliver pain messages. I am becoming so sedentary I am willing to try anything that will get me back into life. Less pain? I am in. Let the disruption begin!

The downsides to the medication are being drowsy. Chin on chest snoring drowsy. Stop moving, fall asleep drowsy. I'm talking take two shots of Revv coffee, several B-complex supplements and a B12 shot and still fall asleep if you stop moving kind of drowsy. He told me it would take a couple weeks to get acclimated. I take one pill at night before bed. When I can do that and remain conscious, I'll add a second pill during the day. I am still on the one pill regimen. Last night I was in bed by 10pm and didn't rouse until 8am. Getting sleep is a blessing and that alone is enough to help me feel better. I haven't slept like that in years.

I am finding that the drug works. I have been able to get out and accomplish some things. The pain is letting up and that is wonderful. I have a dilemma though. Unfortunately drowsiness is not the only potential side effect. As the pain decreases I am noticing depression is on the rise. I am fighting it with all my being but it's there. It's here. It's everywhere. It's trying to smother me. Not all the time, it comes in waves. One moment I am right as rain and the next I am in that place where I question my faith, the meaning of life, whether God exists. If He does, do I want anything to do with Him? I am certain that hope is a four letter word. Right now they are fleeting moments of depression. If the moments increase to hours... then I am in trouble. I am still in the trial period of seeing if I can tolerate the drug...but it hasn't escaped my notice that I may have to make a really difficult choice.

Live with pain or choose to be pain free and depressed....

Counseling yourself isn't as easy as counseling others. What would I tell someone else in these circumstances? Probably to wait a bit and see if things even out and if they don't to keep looking for ways to manage the pain. If pain is the price you pay to keep faith and hope alive, so be it. Easy words to say....when the pain isn't yours.

I read Psalm 71 today. I may read it over several times before this day is through.

Spiritual Aphasia aka Senseless Theology

I was recently asked why I read theology and follow theological debates. "It's all just words and opinions." Words. Words on a paper, words on a blog. Words that travel invisibly through our airwaves and our minds. What would our inner monologue consist of without words? Harsh words, gentle words, untrue words, and solid you-can-die-behind them words. They have secret lives in the depths of our souls. They overflow in torrents of grief and joy. They seep out of our character flaws, wearing down the weak convictions that hold them back until they contaminate all those around us. All of us are stained within and without by the raw sewage of unkind words. Our souls are in jeopardy for want of The Word. Jesus Christ. The Gospel. The Good News. Words matter. Doctrine matters. Theology Matters. What you win them with is what you win them to. I study theology because I was lost too long in a world that scrambles truth with its own ideas and preferences. I was fed a diet of tosse

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

What if.....

...what if I just need a place to let some words spill out? What if they spill out in bouquets of bright colors and pleasing scents but their frames are made of snakes and lies? Will you the reader be able to tell? Will it matter? When words smell like lilacs and honeysuckle do you care what lies beneath them? Perfumed syllables cover the stench of hope's decay. A violet or two will fool most surface dwellers, allowing them to pass by quickly and unaware. Is that what words are supposed to do? What if my aesthetics with words are similar to Morticia Addams' with flowers? What happens when luscious blooms are discarded? When the ragged silhouette of thorns is all that remains will you still see the beauty? Perhaps we'll find out.

rambling rosemarie

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