Week 10 Post-Op Update!

I’m a day late writing my weekly update, and that has everything to do with the fact that yesterday was a big day!

Patrick and I are members of Alcoholics Anonymous; I do not hide this fact because I am sober, and I am grateful for sobriety! Being a recovered alcoholic is a blessing from God.

In our home group, he and I are often looked at as Mom and Dad by many of the young people who come through the door and into the rooms of AA. This is also a blessing from God. Years ago I went to Bible college wanting to be a preacher’s wife – and that didn’t happen for me. Skip ahead years, and now I am married to an “Elder Statesman” in AA, and I find this life that God has given me working alongside Patrick in service to other members of AA and newcomers far exceeds any dreams I once had for a life of “ministry.” The tornado of a life I have had is now a tool that God uses – as I choose to be of service – to help others coming into AA. Right at my husband’s side. Patrick begins each day by asking God to use us as He sees fit. Amen to that.

Yesterday, one of our “sons” (who has been sober for 13 months and has been attending meetings/getting his sheet signed all of that time) had a sentencing hearing. He was facing upwards of 30 years at the max to a minimum of 6 months. We had no idea what to expect going to the hearing – though, I will say that despite the unknown, the expectation to see him handcuffed and walked out of the courtroom for who knows how long was strong. It was a somber morning as a group of us gathered with our ‘boy’ and prepared to head into the courtroom, which we did in a mass of 13 people. Family and AA family. Long story short – the judge sentenced him to time served and 5 years probation. Time served because of AA – because of the work this young man has done in the last 13 months to be sober and to stay sober. He has a full-time steady job and has formed a strong support system, which I am pleased to say includes us. WHAT A MORNING! Tears of joy were shed! After the meeting, when all calmed down, the Lord gifted Patrick the opportunity to explain alcoholism to the young man’s mother in a way that she’d never understood before – and it opened her eyes to the plight of her son, who we have all taken under our wing. What a beautiful, amazing, miraculous morning!

So, my mind was occupied yesterday. It was not on the fact that it is week 10 post-surgery for me. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Getting your mind off of yourself is one of the main points of recovery … and for that, I am grateful!

I will say this regarding my week: Monday was very hot. I only slept 3 hours that night, got up not feeling great because of my lack of sleep, didn’t eat breakfast because I wasn’t hungry, and had only a small amount of water before heading to class. Class began with me lecturing on some tips and tricks students need to succeed in a Comp I class, and 15 or so minutes into class, an optical migraine started. My vision was blurred – and now, in that blurred state, I see an almond-shaped outline in sparkly white on one of my eyes. I didn’t have Tylenol with me, and I usually do to ward off one of those, turning into a full-on Migraine. So, without Tylenol, I decided to push through and kept teaching, though I sat on one of the front row desks. Another 20 minutes into the class period, the fire alarm went off, and we had to vacate the building. We, along with everyone on campus, gathered in a grassy area well away from the buildings … in the heat. I felt sick to my stomach and not right, so I sat on the curb and waited to be told we could head back inside. 10 minutes later, we were back in the classroom and picked up where we had left off, and the optical migraine had subsided. Perhaps overcome by the heat itself … who knows. I began the lecture again and a few minutes in, I became overwhelmingly dizzy to the point that I canceled the remainder of the class period and sent them on their way. One kid said, “Please don’t die.” I said, “I’ll try not to.” Right … I will. I will try not to. Another boy stayed with me for close to a half-hour until the next class came in. During that time, I drank water and ate some cereal I had in a baggy. Long story short on this one (Ha), I got better – and after arriving home, I told Patrick about it, told my doctor’s office, and told my home-health nurse when she arrived about a half hour after I was home. Suffice it to say breakfast and water are two things I cannot skip. Lesson noted.

My INR was 3.8 on Monday. A bit high, but all is well. We are above the 2.5 to 3.5 range, and I’d rather be there than below 2.5. If you know, you know. No thanks, Lovenox.

Cardiac Rehab begins on September 17th! Wahoo! I think … someone told me this week that the people at rehab are mean! I think he was joking, but I guess I’ll find out. Gotta do it.

I’m still not able to turn on my side while sleeping; I tried. Wasn’t comfortable, but I had to know. It’s getting harder to sleep on my back, and I’m not getting a full night’s sleep any night. There’s nothing on my mind … just wanting to roll over and sleep in my old-wonderful-done-it-my-whole-life sleeping position. Last night around 4:00 a.m., I manuevered myself down to laying full on my back and not reclined. I fell asleep for another 4 hours, so that’s pretty good. A total of about 7 hours for the night. Ask any of my bio kids, though … me in the middle of the night … not a pleasant person. LOL. I get unreasonable about needing to stay asleep and be asleep when it’s dark outside (trauma from raising 6 kids, I think, and the lack of sleep I received during all those years). Patrick, on the other hand, believes that’s time to meditate and spend talking to God … and you know what? I know my husband is right. God will provide the rest I need if I put my focus on Him. Another lesson noted.

Week 10 … I’m driving. I’m shopping. I’m cooking. I’m doing many things with a new sense of awareness and gratitude for the time I have. I just want to sleep … but writing this, I remember, that is perhaps time in the night to dedicate to prayer. This is something I intend to do this upcoming week. I Thessalonians 5:16-18 … ¹⁶Rejoice always, ¹⁷pray continually, ¹⁸give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. Amen. So be it.

I plan to complete a week 11 update and then a week 12 update. At that point, I’ll comment here and there about Cardiac Rehab – as I am sure it will be an experience to note … and I’ll FINALLY get to hear Stacey’s Cardiac Rehab story! Lawdy … better be a great one! LOL.

No Bonnie & Clyde for me. Bill & Lois. That’s Where It’s At.

For three and a half years, I have read Bill Wilson’s story in the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous. I know Bill’s story, and I know his wife was Lois. And just like it is with so many other things in life, I only have concentrated on the part that I knew, was familiar with, and didn’t consider any additional perspective or information beyond what I learned about Bill and his role in the foundation of AA.

And then yesterday I watched this movie. “When Love is Not Enough – The Lois Wilson Story.” At the end of the movie, any traces of makeup on my face were washed off with my tears, and my eyes were puffy and red. To see a story I’m so familiar with now through the eyes of Bill’s wife … it was a whole new experience. I feel as if I know Bill … but I hadn’t met Lois yet, and now, I have. What a strong woman – a determined woman – a loyal woman. Fierce. Loving. Resilient. She weathered hell on earth with Bill.

She certainly was stronger than me. I more relate to Bill. Regardless … we all find ourselves walking through varied levels of hell on earth from time to time – and this movie laid the story of Bill Wilson … through his wife’s eyes in a way that stunned me. A new perspective on something familiar. Like when you read a passage 100 times and then on the 101st time, you see something new, and you’re never the same! Lois was foundational to the plan that God had for Bill.

Through all the years of Bill and Lois’s struggles, they had no idea how God was going to use them – how through Bill’s alcoholism and even in homelessness and through the Great Depression, they would be molded into the exact natured servants God desired to accomplish His work. Bill had to plumb the depths of depravity before he could recognize his own powerlessness and see that only God could free him from alcoholism, and Lois, to be put in a place to begin the group Al-Anon, had to walk through the hell of living with a man fully given over to his sickness – and she, too, had to take a deep look into her own self-centeredness, recognize her own powerlessness and her great need for God.

In God’s great timing, Bill and Lois Wilson submitted their lives to service – and they, together, took the message of healing to hopeless alcoholics and their wives for some years – and God blessed Bill and Lois – and through their submission to His will, hundreds of thousands of people have been brought to relationship with the Creator – in wholeness and sanity – including me.

The story of Bill and Lois Wilson – the whole-rounded story – which I see now is a challenge to me as I continue to step forward … All of my life’s experiences can be used by God to help others. If I am willing. If I am willing like Lois to stay the course – to love when it hurts – to hold on and keep moving – to be willing to serve no matter the sacrifice to self – to let life be about helping others – every day – in every way. The title of this blog post is, “No Bonnie & Clyde for me. Bill & Lois. That’s Where It’s At.” 100%.

May I be like Lois in this life, Lord.

May we, Patrick and I, be willing, like Bill & Lois, to be of service to You. Together in service to our Creator. No matter the circumstances. Come what may.

Amen.

Update: 8 Weeks Post Open-Heart Surgery! Can I Get a Wahoo????

August 16, 2024 – Week 8

8 weeks ago, the possibility of reaching today felt like an eternity away! And yet, here we are! It is 8 weeks POST open-heart surgery! Can I get a Wahoo?????

Naively, I expected to be fully 100% by this time – kicking butt and fully back at life with “super” powers, having had my heart fixed! I’d say it’s more like 75% in reality. The incision is beautiful for an incision; there has been no oozing or opening of the closed-up flesh. The two smaller incisions, just below the end of the main incision, where the 3’ tubes were jammed, I mean, placed, inside me to drain fluid from my lungs, are healed up quite nicely. They’re small, horizontal ¾” purple lines with a slight ridge to them. The smaller incision in my neck where the “angel” was inserted (and I do not remember what it was for) is healed but left a mark – most people won’t notice it, but I see it. Certainly not mad about it; it’s one of my “battle scars.” So, as far as the outside markers of surgery are concerned, those are mending just as they are supposed to. All good things.

Now … the inside.

Still sleeping reclined and not flat. My neck pillow has been a blessed addition to my life that I may continue to use after fully healed. No neck pain after I sleep on that thing! Amazing! Positive … I am sleeping in my bed and not the recliner. The day will come when I can lay flat, perhaps turn on my side, and then roll half on my belly with a leg hiked up. That sounds amazing … but that day is still a ways off. Why? Because at a certain point, lying back, there is still pain in my chest, which tells me I’m not fully fused. It is my understanding that it takes 12 weeks for the sternum to fully fuse back together after surgery, so we aren’t there, and I can feel it. I give it a go now and then … and nope.
No slouching … if I do slouch, there’s a pinching beneath the lower part of my main incision. I’m sure that has something to do with wires left in me. So, for the most part, I sit straight up. I’m praying that I’ve not overdone anything and messed something up inside. My next doctor’s appointment is on the 23^rd, so I’ll be asking then. But for now, it is straight-back sitting, no slouching, which we should all be doing anyway. Right?
I can lift up to 20 lbs. This week, I moved the 8-quart Instant Pot around and lifted a 13.9 lb. turkey into the roasting pan and then into and out of the oven. Felt it. But did it. Taking my time. Doing nothing too quickly. Using my legs as much as I can – squatting/lifting. Holding my arms close to my chest while lifting/moving things around. A whole new way of doing things. I’m looking forward to Cardiac Rehab starting.
I still have home health visiting … because my INR fluctuates. I’m therapeutic, then I’m not. Then, I am. Then, I’m not. I joined several Warfarin support groups, so I know what I’m going through is “normal,” but that doesn’t help when I’ve been told that cardiac rehab won’t begin until home health releases me. This food and Warfarin thing is a beast. There are foods I shouldn’t eat, but then I’m told I can eat them, but only if I’m consistent. Like if I eat a salad on Tuesday this week, I have to eat a salad on Tuesday next week too – and then, forever, on Tuesdays. I’ve been told I can eat whatever I want, but just no leafy greens. I’ve been told I need to watch my sodium intake. I’ve been told I should see a nutritionist. I’ve been told. I’ve been told. I’ve been told. I just want to be therapeutic and get on with things. And regardless of all of the well-meaning advice I’m getting from support groups and folks I know; I’m listening to my team of doctors and my nurse friends first and foremost. One of them tried to feed me cake a few weeks ago, so … guess I’m the one who needs to calm down a bit every time I’m not therapeutic. My INR gets checked again this coming Monday. Praying for a good result. I’m ready to start Cardiac Rehab! Mostly because my friend Stacey is a nurse, and she says she has a funny story to tell me, but she won’t tell it to me until I’ve started Cardiac Rehab. It’s been weeks that I’ve been waiting to hear this story!
I tire easily, and I’m sure that has everything to do with the giant toll that open-heart surgery takes on the body. Until Cardiac Rehab starts, they want me up and moving around, and so I try to do that – and I avoid that recliner now! It was my safe space for 3 ½ weeks, and now … no thanks. I’m going to putter around my house, nap in my bed (I never took naps before this), and putter some more. Maybe spend time on the computer. The Fall semester starts Monday, and I am excited to get back into the flow of “normalcy.”
Been caffeine-free since the day before surgery. Prior to that, I was a diet sodaholic. It is shameful to admit there were some days that I drank upwards of 80 oz of that poison. I didn’t even like the taste sometimes … it was what my body craved. I always wondered if it contributed to my heart issues, but let me tell you what … when Patrick and I had our first visit to Dr. Tharakan’s office – my surgeon – the Chief of Cardiothoracic surgery – and there was Diet Pepsi and Diet Dr. Pepper in the waiting room for his patients, I did a German Shepherd side-head tilt. In the background of my head, Tim Allen made his “???” noise along with the “Home Improvement” theme song. And now I’m reading that caffeine helps thin blood … and I’m being told the only drinks I need to avoid really are alcohol (no problem anymore), cranberry juice, and energy drinks. Ladies and Gentlemen, to say that I’m confused on the matter is lightly addressing the concern. However, I think I’ll stick to mostly water from this point forward. I have a white soda or a fruit-flavored carbonated beverage from time to time, but those don’t even taste that good to me now. I want water. So crazy for this girl to say she wants water after years of soda addiction.
Some movements are still a touch pain-inducing, but the pain is short-lived. My chest often has a tightness in it, but it’s not painful. I’m definitely aware of it, but I’m not rushing to take Tylenol any longer. It’s hard to describe the tightness … it’s like, well, bones being pushed together, which makes sense because that is what is happening, except mine are wired together and fusing back into being one.
We are waiting on the test results from last week’s heart monitor. I don’t even know what to think about that yet, so how about, let’s not? It’s a concern for another day.
Today, I asked in the Mechanical Heart Valve support group … “Do we set off metal detectors?” To which several people quickly responded with a “No.” Brief, to the point. LOL. Hey, when I have a question, I’m going to ask it, no matter if it’s seemingly silly. I had visions of walking through metal detectors and them going wildly off because of my valve – and me trying to explain my whole story … although, if the officers want to listen, then I’m willing to share how God orchestrated every moment and how I am learning to trust and accept His peace which is beyond understanding. So … maybe metal detectors going off would be a-okay with me.

Week 8… wow! We made it to week 8, and we’re two-thirds of the way to “Fully Fused!”

My husband is with me constantly – and that is a joyful thing for me. He is my very best friend, and he is my caretaker, my lover, my protector, and the spiritual head of my home. We have had such quality time together over the last three months – the time both before and since surgery. He doesn’t let me far out of his sight (unless I’m with a nurse friend or in class or a meeting where there are folks that he knows love me), and I don’t want to be far out of his sight. I’m still not driving yet, so he is also my chauffeur and will get me to and from school for a few more weeks while I progress toward 100%. Really, I don’t have anything to complain about, even though there is still work to do toward healing and figuring out INR. The task for me, at 75%, is to do today what I can. Drink water. Eat well. Putter. Keep my mind busy, but also balance that with rest. Talk to friends and family. Share my story. Go to AA meetings. Live in the moment! Let tomorrow worry about itself. Give God the Glory for this entire experience! Remember that each day is a GIFT from God, and I am to use each day as an opportunity to be His love to others. That’s awesome!

Here’s to 75%! Woot! Woot!

“Giraffe To Be Kidding Me!” – Giraffes are People Too.

A little over a year ago, my daughter and I put together a coloring book, and it is high time to post about it again because I am freakin’ proud of her and her art.

Kennedy has always loved giraffes. Loved is a soft term for obsessed. Kennedy has always been obsessed with giraffes. When she was little and we went to the zoo, all she cared about was the giraffe enclosure, and there, we would stay for an hour and a day, it seemed. She watched their movements, studied them, and learned that ‘giraffes are people too.’ In her imagination, giraffes did people things – and as she grew older, she began to draw giraffes – but these were no ordinary giraffes. These giraffes were busy … driving cars, painting, and raising kids. Her artwork astounded me, and I pushed and encouraged her to compile a collection. It took a few years to convince her that her art was good enough for the public to see … finally, she said “Yes,” and we put together this coloring book. I could not be more proud of my daughter!

It is on Amazon, and not just because I’m her mom, I say it is WORTH getting – whether you color the pages or not. The art and creativity is fun and unique. We looked online prior to putting the coloring book together, and nothing we found came close to it that we could find in our searching. “Giraffe to Be Kidding Me” is a fun twist on the world of giraffes, giving them people qualities … because, of course, they actually are people, too. Insert a mom-raised-eyebrow here and a smiling face. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BXMRB5N2

To see more of Kennedy’s artwork, visit https://www.instagram.com/_neddums/. Here, you can see art recording a day in the life … of Kennedy’s own household … or giraffes doing their thing but in color. Again … proud mom for a reason. She’s good.

The Old Man

There was an old man who lived in a small village. I don’t know when, and I don’t know where, but this old man’s story stays with me, and I hear his words on replay in my soul.

This old man was poor; he had a small piece of land and 1 horse. One day the old man’s horse broke down his fence and ran away. The villagers came to the old man’s home, as villagers tend to do when they know everyone’s business, and they said to him, “Oh no! This is terrible! This is awful!” And the old man replied, “Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t. I don’t know.”

The next day, the old man’s horse returned bringing with him a pack of wild horses! They all went right into his pen following the old man’s horse. The villagers returned to the old man’s home to exclaim, “This is amazing! This is wonderful!” The old man replied, “Maybe it is. Maybe It isn’t. I don’t know.”

The following day, the old man’s son went out to begin to work on breaking in the wild horses they’d acquired, and the son fell off the horse and broke his leg. The villagers came to offer comfort. They said, “This is awful! This is terrible!” The old man replied, “Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t. I don’t know.”

The next day, war broke out in the land, and the army drafted all able-bodied men to go to war at once! Except, they refused to take the old man’s son because of his broken leg …

This story! What a reaction to events in life!

This is a Chinese proverb, and I heard it on an AA message called “Surrender” by Bob D. Since hearing it, it replays in my mind, my heart, my soul. It adds to the Serenity prayer for me … only now, I ask … is this terrible? Is this awesome? Maybe. Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t. I’m going to accept what I cannot change. Have courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Is it awful? Is it good? Let’s wait and see what God does, and in the meantime, I choose serenity. #goals

My Heart Literally in His Hands

SEVEN weeks post-open-heart surgery, I’m here to tell you that recovery is not a quick process once you have had your chest sliced, your sternum cracked open, and your heart held in someone’s very capable hands as your existing Mitral Valve is replaced with a Mechanical Valve-my heart physically in the surgeon’s hands. But, recovery DOES HAPPEN! It’s still happening for me and will continue to for weeks to months. It’s all good. Happy to be on the other side. Happy to still be here. Happy to have recovery to do. Happy to know, with assurance, that God is not finished with my story here just yet.

This week, there have been some positives to share! 🤗

A couple of days ago, for the first time since before surgery, I was able to hug my husband and feel his arms fully around me. Chest tenderly on chest … it was an amazing hug. There may have been tears. What a hug! 🥰

My INR IS 2.5! Some of you won’t have a clue why that is exciting to me, but anyone who has taken or is taking Warfarin will understand. We have had seven weeks of changing dosages to get me, what they call, therapeutic – within acceptable range. What a journey – full of disappointments and excitements, of Lovenox shots and a severely bruised belly, of getting to know my home health nurse so well that now we hug at the end of appointments.

I walked up a flight of stairs on Thursday! And I did not get short of breath! When I got into the doctor’s office, my blood pressure was slightly elevated from that morning, but was still in normal range! Wahoo!

Thursday, we (because Patrick walks every step of this with me) saw the electrophysiologist. The appointment with that office was scheduled before my surgery was scheduled, but my surgeon’s office said to keep the appointment. The EP did an EKG, listened to my heart specifically for PVCS … irregular heartbeats in the lower chambers of the heart. Prior to surgery I had a concerning amount of those. Thursday, he said he saw a few on the EKG, but did not hear them when he listened to me. So, I’m wearing a heart monitor now until this afternoon. Supposed to note anything unusual in a little notebook … that’s funny to me since everything since surgery is unusual. 😅 Feeling the heart monitor on the skin not far from my incision is unusual, but not what he’s looking for.

I’m still not sleeping flat, but reclined on pillows. That’ll be a few more weeks more than likely. It’s fine. I’m fine. 🫣 At least we are sleeping in our bed! That’s a giant wahoo! We were both in the living room for weeks! Patrick will only sleep where I sleep. I love him. ❤️🥰 My heart mentally and emotionally is in his hands.

I realized this week that prior to surgery, I had been experiencing a lot of hot flashes during the night … those are not happening now. It has me wondering if those, like the swelling in my body and the shortness of breath I was experiencing for months which increasingly was getting worse, was due to my Mitral Valve basically not doing much beyond sloshing blood back and forth in my heart while it, properly working, should have been pushing the blood into my body in a rhythmic nature. Not mine. Mine was malfunctioning – severely. So much so that one of the surgeons at the hospital told Patrick he was astounded that I was able to even walk around prior to surgery. Another one told Patrick that he was astonished that I could sleep. Those are the verbs they used. I was sick, y’all. Bad sick.

Another major thing to note this week is that the dizzy spells/flushing episodes I’d been experiencing every time I lay down (prior to surgery) are gone. To say that I am overjoyed about that does not fully encompass my feeling on the matter! I am grateful. Grateful. Grateful. Grateful.

Now, a couple of times, I have had what felt like one of those, but who knows. I’ll pay attention, but for now, the nightly thinking “This might be it,” meaning I’m gonna die, every time I had one of those spells is not a thing! I go to bed without fear or concern that I have to brace for one of those anymore. Hated those. Hated.

I joined a few Warfarin and mechanical heart valve support groups on Facebook. That has been interesting reading to be sure. Encouraging, but also reality check for me that in comparison to some people’s experiences, mine has been relatively easy going. Ever need to get your mind off yourself and in check, start talking to other people. Not about you, but ask them how they are. Practice listening … and wowza, what you learn and … for me, I find gratitude for my own life despite my circumstances.

This week, my friend Kris is in a St. Louis hospital with what looks to be blood cancer. His wife, Jamie, is my dear friend, and her Facebook posts regarding their experiences over the last two weeks have me praying for their peace in the midst of this crazy, awful storm, for Kris’s love of Jesus to shine on and near every person they encounter in this hard journey, for Jamie to be an Esther and have strength and love for such a time as this as she supports her beloved husband through these days, for God to use Kris and Jamie for His glory! Selfishly, I want to pray for Kris’s complete healing! But … just as in my situation, as believers, our lives are to be a testimony to God’s grace, however He sees fit. So, I pray for peace and strength in the middle of the storm as well as in the calmest of days for Kris and Jamie. Knowing what is happening in their lives puts me in check to know I am not the only person going through hard times, and I need to choose to be grateful, never full of woe for myself. Choose to continue to ask God for peace and strength in my life and for Him to use me as He sees fit. Amen.

So, this week, at this stage of recovery, with all of this going on, I am cooking, de-cluttering, puttering, cleaning, doing schoolwork, going to meetings, even some laundry with the help of my dad’s grabber tool – although my APRN friend says I shouldn’t do laundry yet … I took it very slow and used a tool. 😇. I made four video lectures this week, and my Fall semester course shells are ready to go. Positives. I’m going to focus on the positives.

There are other things I could focus on … feel sorry for myself … the topic “You find out who actually cares about you” comes to mind, but I’m going to let that go. My life is a gift – it always has been – I didn’t have the wherewithal to recognize that before, not really. But now … every day I have is a gift from God, and I know each day is to be used for Him. That is what I choose to focus on. God’s grace and the gratitude I have to live now on “borrowed” time from Him. My heart, and my life, literally spiritually, physically, mentally, and emotionally in His hands. By Grace. With Grace. I am grateful.

Amen!

Week 8 is loading …..

Open Heart Surgery – Maybe We All Need It

3 days until surgery.

There’s so much on my mind because in three days a surgeon will open my heart and either repair or replace my Mitral Valve, and as I’m spending time at home, staying away from germs, I have a lot of time to think. I’m resting and taking the medicines prescribed, and thinking over who and what I’m grateful for. A couple of people have come to mind to tell off, but that won’t happen because I don’t really want to do that. What I really want is to say to everyone … stop fussing and fighting through your life. It’s a waste of time. We miss out on so many opportunities to be kind, to be of service, and to get out of “self” and love on others, be difference makers, because of selfishness, self-involvement, self – which leads to isolation and depression and anger and fighting. Ugh to that mess and all that comes with it. No more for me, thanks. I choose serenity. I choose to have an open heart.

Maybe we all need “open heart” surgery – because, I think, it would behoove us as people to open our hearts to each other, to understanding each other, to discover the “why” behind the actions and words of others instead of jumping to conclusions or hating on folks.

This is where my thoughts are this evening, and to the couple of persons I mentioned earlier who would, let’s just say, not wish me well as I go into surgery. To them … I pray peace and serenity for you. May you know life free from anger.

These are the Scriptures coming to mind as I write this post:

Love Comes from God

7Beloved, let us love one another, because love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. 8Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love.

9This is how God’s love was revealed among us: God sent His one and onlyc Son into the world, so that we might live through Him. 10And love consists in this: not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son as the atoning sacrificed for our sins.

11Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. 12No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God remains in us, and His love is perfected in us. 13By this we know that we remain in Him, and He in us: He has given us of His Spirit. 14And we have seen and testify that the Father has sent His Son to be the Savior of the world.

15If anyone confesses that Jesus is the Son of God, God abides in him, and he in God. 16And we have come to know and believe the love that God has for us. God is love; whoever abides in love abides in God, and God in him. 17In this way, love has been perfected among us, so that we may have confidence on the day of judgment; for in this world we are just like Him.

18There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear, because fear involves punishment. The one who fears has not been perfected in love. 19We lovee because He first loved us.

20If anyone says, “I love God,” but hates his brother, he is a liar. For anyone who does not love his brother, whom he has seen, cannot love God, whom he has not seen. 21And we have this commandment from Him: Whoever loves God must love his brother as well.

Me? Just Somebody’s Problem.

My husband loves this song, and he points at me every time as he sings along. His eyes tear up, and he smiles at me in a way no one else ever has or could. Then, my eyes fill with tears as well because I am beyond grateful to God that even though I have been somebody’s problem in the past, to my husband, I am best friend, partner, helpmeet, and love of a lifetime. “Somebody’s Problem is about to be mine,” he sings along with Morgan Wallen. Yes, I am, Patrick! Every day. I do. I do. I do. ❤️

So grateful. ❤️

I Braced For What Didn’t Come

Written in January 2024.

A couple of months ago, I signed our company up for a marketing service – and I’ll keep the names out of this post to ‘protect the innocent’ – namely myself-ish. I thought I understood how it, the marketing service, worked, and things seemed to be rolling along okay with it … we got a few calls and a couple of jobs. I thought nothing more of it and just went on with my days as usual. Then, yesterday morning, a bill hit our credit card for $570. Capital One notified me – they sent a potential fraud alert notice, and I panicked. My heart dropped out of me … that’s putting it lightly. Old emotions, reactions, and thoughts rushed back, and I froze – incapacitated by the idea of my husband finding out about the exorbitant charge, about my stupidity in allowing the situation to unfold in the first place, and I racked my brain as to why the marketing company was charging so much – I had no answers before the questions were asked, and triggered by the past, I wanted to curl up inside myself, suck my thumb, and just die. In my previous life, a situation like this precipitated an all-out war. Yelling, name-calling, potential escalation to breaking things, and bruises – and many tears on my part. Explanations. Excuses. Frantic bouts of trying to ‘fix’ things. Hating myself because I was exactly what I was called – a crybaby, weak, stupid, a fuck-up. I braced for impact, and I told Patrick, my husband, about the charge of $570 on the credit card, that we’d been notified about potential fraud, and that the charge was from the marketing company. My mind raged in its own battle – half of it allowing old situations to cloud any rational thought I endeavored to hold on to – as I waited for his response. Potential scenarios unfolded while rational thoughts said, ‘Stop it, Dacia.’

He heard me. His face bore no frustration. No anger. He simply asked me to explain it again, and then, he called Capital One and got the charge suspended. Then, he talked me through what I had signed up for and what I hadn’t. My freaked-out brain couldn’t fully recall how it had all gone down when I signed up for the service, so he read the terms and conditions himself. Then, he calmly had me cancel the service, and then, keeping me sitting there next to him, he called the company and let them know what he thought of their ‘marketing’ a product that didn’t warrant the cost when it certainly did not produce promised results. He noticed me shaking and squirming while he was on the phone, and he whispered to me, “It’s okay.”

Once off the phone, he said, “Well, that’s taken care of.” With a smile, he asked if he should yell at me then, and then, he came up with ‘punishments’ for me … which involve kissing and husband and wife stuff. He wrapped me up in a hug and told me he loves me. There was no yelling. No hammer dropped. I had braced for what did not come, and on the side of the event, I am reminded of how much and why I love this man and why I am so grateful to God for Him.

Living Amends

Recently, I’ve come to a deep understanding of the nature of my struggles over the years, and I know now that my behaviors, dating back to my teen years were often alcoholic in nature – restless, irritable, discontent, fear-driven, though I never took a drink until I was 32.

Obsession and craving to satiate the restlessness, irritability, discontent, and anxiety-inducing fear started early, and I fed it with attention-seeking behaviors, getting good grades, and more anxiety and compounding fears. I existed emotionally drunk the majority of my life. Worried. Anxious. Lonely. Afraid. Reactive. What makes it all alcoholic in nature is that, and I know this to be true now that I’m on the recovery side, I was obsessed, craving, unable to stop those things. Incapable of controlling the fear and anxiety that consumed me every day. I fed those with attention seeking behaviors instead of truly leaning into God. I believed He didn’t hear me, that I wasn’t worth His time, though I played it very much the opposite outwardly.

When the drinking began, I found something else to feed the anxiety and fear, and I became obsessed with not only attention seeking but when the next glass of wine or vodka would come. And, for the most part, I played a great part and hid it from the people who loved me. I will not place blame anywhere than at my own feet for the choices I made as the intensity of 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, and 2020 picked up.

Those years are a blur of pain and bad choices, and I spent a good part of them either working way too much or drinking myself to oblivion. My life became unmanageable! I should have been honest with those who truly loved me, but I literally couldn’t. Too ignorant. Too afraid. Too obsessed with my own preservation. I did not understand the depth of the problem within myself as it reacted to the circumstances of my life, and I certainly did not understand the impact of those years specifically on the people who loved me. I made awful and desperate choices – always seeking an out – and answer – something or someone to save me.

I drank in secret. I blacked out many nights. Hurting. Sad. Suicidal. I said I believed in God, but l, truly, did not believe He loved me. I wasn’t worth His love. I thought.

In, January 2021, I stepped into my first AA meeting, and I have been going ever since. I understand now the depth of the spiritual malady I have suffered most of my life. I identify as an alcoholic, and not just that, but as a sober alcoholic, who KNOWS God loves me, who knows that Jesus died for me! I am on no medication. I am working the program, and every day I thank God for an opportunity to do the next right thing.

Today, I know what peace is, and I am grateful for the life I have, come what may.
All of this is to say, I know that my behaviors impacted you and left you confused. I am sorry for that. I am sorry that I hurt you. Please know that. I love you. You’re amazing. Know that God is good, and He is real!