Let it Glow!

The Day Begins:

I’m not a morning person. Mornings have never really been my thing.  My old property management team could tell you all about my ‘need-for-Diet-Dew’ rule before tackling problems!  Being a full-time patient hasn’t helped matters!

So, it was with verbal groans that I looked at the clock and saw it was 7 a.m. – time to get ready for a 10 a.m. medical appointment. After all, I’d hate to be late for a “date” (I’m a poet and I know it!) with my friends in the radiology department of our local hospital. I started my morning medical drill: medication, nebulizers, and inhalers.  My body screamed it was a bad idea to get up.  My lungs struggled to get a satisfying breath.  My bones ached.  I was tired before the day even began.

Dad handed me a cup of coffee and recommended I drink it, promising it would help me feel better about this whole 7 am thing.

Getting ready was a slow, methodical process. Simply standing, dressing, and moving around takes a monumental effort. Eventually, I rolled into Dad’s “medical bay” so he could cannulate my port. Afterward, I spent a few minutes helping Lovie study for her history exam before we finally headed out the door.

Let it Glow

Today’s test was a nuclear bone scan due to new pain areas in my right tibia (shin) and both right and left ankle/foot.  When the pain first started on Christmas Day, I immediately recognized it. Bone pain is very distinct and not something you forget. Deep down, I knew it was Avascular Necrosis (AVN), but I held onto the hope that I was wrong.

Once in the radiology room, Dad helped me onto the table and the tech explained the procedure. First, they injected a radioactive isotope tracer, which would bind to bone tissue, highlighting problem areas like infection, inflammation, or fractures. (And no, I’m not glowing in the dark tonight. But how cool would that be?)

Once the tracer was in, they took some preliminary pictures. Then came the waiting game - three hours for the isotope to fully absorb.

Beach Intermission

Dad grabbed take-out bowls from Chipotle, and we headed to the beach for a picnic! It was a beautiful winter day with blue skies and fluffy white clouds. The ocean was a deep, serene blue, calm and peaceful. I love the beach in the winter!

All too soon, it was time to return to the hospital for phase two of the scans. This time, the images would be overlaid with the first image set, giving a clearer picture of what was going on. As we wrapped up, the tech mentioned that the results would likely be in my portal by the end of the day.

The Verdict Is In:

After we got home, I decided to spend some time outside. I wheeled into our backyard, reclined my wheelchair, and watched the clouds drift by. Spotify played soft scripture songs as I poured out my heart to the Lord.

Around 5 p.m., I checked my portal. There it was: “New Test Results.” Part of me wanted to know what they found, but another part just wanted to cling to the word “suspected” rather than “diagnosed.” With more than a little hesitation, I tapped the button, and the report appeared on my screen.

Having undergone hundreds of radiology tests in the last eight years, I’ve picked up a fair amount of medicalese. (Having an RN father doesn’t hurt either!) As I read the radiologist’s final impressions, my eyes filled with tears. I was right. There was an uptick in all the painful joints. Given my history with AVN, there’s a high certainty that these upticks indicate a future AVN diagnosis. I wiped my tears quickly, determined not to let Lovie notice.

AVN is a relatively rare and painful disease with no cure. There is a surgical procedure called core decompression that can sometimes slow the progression of bone death. But eventually, the bone dies and begins to collapse.

The standard treatment is joint replacement. At age thirty-nine, I’ve already undergone a hip replacement, a knee replacement, and a knee revision.

My orthopedic surgeon has said that my right knee, left hip, and right shoulder are ready for replacement whenever I’m ready. But now? We’ve just added four new bones and/or joints.

"Really, Lord? Does it ever end?”

A Million Questions:

I spent the rest of the evening cooking dinner with my precious daughter, taking dance breaks for Lovie to spin around as my chair twirled in circles, chatting with my sister on the phone, and then getting some extra snuggles with ND before kissing her on the head as she crawled into her bed.

The house is quiet now. Everyone is fast asleep, but the reality of today’s results and their implications feels like a hot, wet blanket thrown over my body.

I groan inwardly, dreading the final diagnosis from the orthopedic surgeon, yet strangely grateful for the validation that there’s a reason for my pain.

A million questions race through my mind. I’m so tired of medical intervention. Last year alone, I had two craniotomies and a knee revision - not to mention 8½ weeks of inpatient care, three months of home IV antibiotics four times a day, and asthma attacks requiring IV intervention. I’m utterly "medicaled out."

But giving up isn’t an option. “The only way out is through,” says Nate Brooks of Southeastern Theological Seminary.  And if I need a reminder of why that’s true, I find her sleeping a few feet away. 

So I must “press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Jesus Christ” (Philippians 3:14). As The Message translates it: “But I’ve got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward - to Jesus. I’m off and running, and I’m not turning back.”

“Lord, help me get off and wheeling - no turning back,” I quietly prayed.

Clinging to Truth

I picked up my phone and asked ChatGPT to give me a list of verses to encourage a weary soul. It quickly responded:

• Isaiah 41:10: “Don’t panic. I’m with you. There’s no need for fear, for I am your God. I’ll give you strength. I’ll help you. I’ll hold you steady, keeping a firm grip on you.”

• Joshua 1:9: “Haven’t I commanded you? Strength! Courage! Don’t be timid; don’t get discouraged. God, your God, is with you every step you take.”

• 2 Corinthians 4:16-18: “So we’re not giving up. How could we! Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without His unfolding grace… There’s far more here than meets the eye. The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow. But the things we can’t see now will last forever.”

• Romans 8:31: “So, what do you think? With God on our side like this, how can we lose?” 

A quote by Emily Freeman pops into my mind, and I pull it up in my Notes app: “I considered something I haven’t ever thought of before. Maybe the trial isn’t always about God trying to prove us or build our character. What if He is trying to help us discover His? I wonder what He has allowed you to go through to help you understand Him better.”

As a 12-year-old girl, I prayed earnestly that I might know God wholly, not just in part, and that I would have faith greater than Abraham’s. Bold? Yes. Sincere? Absolutely. Insane? Quite possibly.

Even so, I’ve repeated that request countless times. It remains my greatest desire.

“But, Lord, does it take this? For me to know You in Your suffering and Your joy? For me to know You wholly, will the medical hits never stop?”

In the next few days, Mayo Clinic will weigh in, discussing what further diagnostics are needed for an official diagnosis and staging.

“Lord, I don’t think I can do it. I can’t handle five more joint replacements. And what does treatment for long bone AVN even look like?” 

I found myself staring at the dancing flames of my electric fireplace, as if they held the answers I sought. Breathing deeply, I tried to rest at my Lord’s feet, too confused to even pray.

“Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans” (Romans 8:26, The Message).

“Lord, it’s me again. I don’t know how or what to pray. So will You be my God so I can just be me?[1] Holy Spirit, do You hear my wordless sighs and aching groans? Your Word says You cannot lie. So as an act of my will, I choose to trust You to do just that.”

It’s 3:30 a.m. Spotify began playing a new song.  The lyrics drifted through my earbuds: “Take no thought for tomorrow; it will take care of itself. Know that God is watching over you. Your heavenly Father knows what you need, so take no thought for tomorrow.”[2]

“Lord, I don’t know if I really know how to truly not ‘take thought’ of tomorrow. Today opened a new Pandora’s box. But You cannot lie. And You promised to meet all my needs.”

I powered down my laptop and gazed at the fireplace. ND’s breathing was calm and steady. I don’t know the future, but I know the One who holds it. Peering ahead while gazing back, I declared, “God has been faithful in the past and He will be faithful in the future!”

An Invitation to Rest:

So, what in your life, my dear readership, is causing wordless sighs and aching groans? Pain is pain. It can’t be compared or quantified. My pain may be far different from yours.

In what areas of your life do you need to rest in the truth that the Holy Spirit is, even now, interceding before the Father on your behalf?

Do you need to find a quiet spot and simply “be” in your God’s loving presence? All too often, we “breeze in” to His throne room, bending over to catch our breath before tossing out requests like a pitching machine. We finally come up for air, exhaling a quick “Thank You, Jesus!” before running back out to join the throng of society on Worry Way or Busy Boulevard.

But how often do we take the time to just be in His presence? To rest in the knowledge that He is GOD of all?

John 15 admonishes us to abide in Christ and His love. The word abide comes from Old English ābīdan, meaning "to remain, wait, or delay." It conveys a sense of permanence, closeness, and faithfulness in a relationship. In Shakespearean times, abide was used to express living through lingering.

Are you abiding in Christ today? That’s where I pray to be: abiding in Christ and savoring His promises. I hope to meet you there!

Until next time,

[1] I Can Just Be Me, Laura Story

[2] Scripture Lullabies, Jay Stocker