|
The
story I'm about to relay is deeply personal, but it is my
hope that my experience might be an encouragement to those
suffering with debilitating pain and a testimony of my faith
in God and his love.
A
Labor of Love
When
I was in my early thirties, my husband, Malcolm, and I decided
to start a family. Up until then, I had worked hard to establish
my career as a writer, but we felt time slipping by and decided
it was time for children. I knew when I had a child that my
life would change, but I had no idea how much or the direction
it would take.
Our
daughter, Deanna, was born after a difficult birth; I was
in labor for just over twenty hours. I thank God that my baby
was fine. I am infinitely grateful for that blessing. However,
I learned the next day that I had lost a great deal of blood.
I was given the choice of accepting a blood transfusion. In
a decision that would alter my life irrevocably I chose not
to receive a transfusion.
After
several days in the hospital, I finally received permission
from my doctor to go home, as long as I had help with the
baby. My mother, God bless her, gave up her own life for four
long weeks to come to take care of me and Deanna while Malcolm
worked. Initially, I was so weak, I couldn't even walk. I
had to use a walker. That was my first lesson in humility.
More lessons were to come.
The
Accident
I
was just beginning to re-gain my strength and was rejoicing
in being able, at last, to take care of my little baby girl
when another challenge arose. As a new mom and one who had
been unable to care for her new baby for four long weeks,
I was eager and nervous to take over the reins. One night,
mistakenly thinking I heard the baby cry, I jumped out of
bed. The next thing I knew I felt myself bounce off what I
thought was the floor. I'll never know exactly what happened,
but as far as I can figure out, I must have fainted.
Dazed,
I tried to get up only to find myself in agonizing pain, unable
to move. I called to my husband, waking him up, and he called
for an ambulance. I spent the rest of the night at the hospital.
Because of other traumas in Emergency, I didn't get treated
for several hours. I was given nothing for the pain. By the
time the doctor saw me, I had gone into shock; my veins had
receded so the nurse had difficulty getting an IV into me.
My husband was ordered from my side as the doctor worked on
me. After that I really have no memory, although I was told
I was awake the whole time. When I next became alert, I found
myself hooked up to an ECG. I'll never know what happened,
but it must have been severe.
I
know God was with us through that horrible night. In fact,
he worked our first personal miracle. Although Deanna was
only one month old and was being fed approximately every two
to three hours, she slept through the entire night from 11
p.m. to 9 a.m. without waking up to be fed. That's truly astounding
for a baby that age. I am deeply grateful, because I don't
think I could have stood the heartbreak of not being able
to feed her (I was breast feeding) that night.
By
morning, I was diagnosed as having fractured six bones, two
in my right hand and four in my left shoulder. I had also
severely dislocated my left shoulder; muscles and tendons
had torn. In short, with that one fall, my life changed completely.
My left arm was in a sling and even the tiniest movement was
agonizing. My right arm was in a cast. And I had a one-month
old baby.
Even
though the pain was severe, all I could think of was my emotional
loss in not being able to even pick up my little baby girl.
It was a horribly helpless feeling, to hear her choke and
not be able to go and turn her over. It was humbling to have
to ask for someone to pile me with cushions so that she could
even sit on my lap. The memory still brings tears to my eyes
as I remember the ache.
Of
course, having no arms made even the simplest tasks difficult.
I had to be fed, changed, groomed. I would get trapped in
rooms because I couldn't turn a door knob. I was almost as
helpless as my baby. Again, I am deeply grateful to my husband
who persevered with me through this difficult time and to
my mother who once again stepped into the breach. I honestly
don't know what would have happened if I hadn't had that support.
After
six weeks, I began the road to recovery, but it was slow.
The one enormous blessing I took from the experience is that
even the most mundane tasks, such as changing a diaper, were
truly joyful for me. I never got bored of caring for my little
girl and that intense joy in being a mother has sustained
me through the years ahead. Because I was so useless at so
many things because of my physical limitations (e.g. housework,
writing), I was able to spend the time with Deanna and we
have developed a deep and lasting bond. I thank God for that.
The
Diagnosis
I
never completely recovered physically from that experience.
I was still in pain every day and required frequent physiotherapy
to recover the use of my left shoulder.
About
a year later, my father was diagnosed with inoperable cancer.
It was a devastating year as I struggled to cope with my own
physical and emotional recovery, with being a wife and mother,
and with striving to support my parents as they faced this
crisis.
About
this time, I realized that the constant pain I was experiencing
was much worse, and, even more perplexing, it was flaring
up all over my body. One day I would have agonizing leg pain;
two days later it would be neck pain. The doctors couldn't
explain it, except to say I was stressed by my father's illness.
The
pain was so bad that there were days when I couldn't even
walk across a room. I literally would crawl around the house
alongside my child. I couldn't take the stairs (just thirteen
steps) without stopping, sometimes twice, to sit down. My
little toddler would take my arm and try to help me. The pain
took hold of my mind so badly that it was difficult to think
straight. Some days, I couldn't
even hold a conversation with my husband because I couldn't
think of the words I needed to use. As a writer, this inability
to communicate was incredibly frustrating. This time of my
life was absolutely exhausting.
My
Dad died just over a year after he was diagnosed with cancer.
Three months later I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia.
It
was a relief to get a diagnosis, but I immediately went into
a classic grief reaction. I tried to deny the problem. Slowly,
I faced it and got some help. An occupational therapist worked
with me to teach me how to lessen the strain on my body. She
showed me that little things could add up to intolerable pain
and that I had to admit my incapacity before I could help
myself.
Working
at the computer for even ten minutes would cause my arms to
spasm into terrible pain. Consequently, my career as a writer
was effectively extinguished. I was told it was likely that
I'd never write again. This was another loss because I had
previously strongly identified myself by my work.
In
addition, it seemed highly unlikely that we would be able
to have more children. While I was grateful for my one child,
I had never expected to have only one child. I felt guilty
for not providing Deanna with brothers or sisters to play
with.
I
felt useless. I felt as though I was an overwhelming burden
to my husband. I couldn't keep house properly, let alone bring
in any supplemental income. All the energy I had was consumed
by our daughter. Even then, I couldn't do all the things that
most mothers do with their children such as slide down a slide
at the park or toboggan down a hill. I felt like a failure.
If I was in a lot of pain and my spirits were low, I sometimes
thought that they might be better off without me.
Malcolm
was very patient and supportive. I am so grateful for that,
because I know that many men (or women for that matter) wouldn't
be able to handle the situation. My little girl, Deanna, was
an angel who required very little discipline and she brought
me joy in the midst of my suffering. So I was aware that I
had many things to be thankful for, even in the midst of the
pain; but when one is faced with unrelenting pain every minute
of every day it is very difficult to think positively. I tried
to count my blessings every day, but I despaired of living
the rest of my life like this.
With
the support of my husband and my daughter, and by reaching
out for help, I slowly began a process back to health. Malcolm
continued to encourage me that the pain wouldn't last forever,
but I wouldn't believe him. Nevertheless, I tried. I altered
my diet and the pain improved slightly. I found a vitamin
supplement especially designed for those with fibromyalgia
and I improved some more.
I
didn't know that God had something amazing in mind for me.
Truly, I am in awe of how he worked in my life.
My
Faith
I
have been a Christian from a very early age and by Christian,
I mean a born-again Christian. I have walked with God for
many years and I've tried to manifest that commitment in my
life. I wanted my life to reflect my faith. Consequently,
how I dealt with all of these crises would seem to be a time
for my faith to grow. And it has, but not in the way I would
have thought.
I've
heard over and over that most people feel God's presence most
strongly when they are in the greatest need. I wish I could
say the same, but I can't. I continued to believe in God from
sheer tenacity of will. I approached the various misfortunes
in my life much like Job did in the Old Testament. While I
was not angry with God, I was simply miserable and worked
hard to understand what I might learn from my experiences.
As
it turned out, I had something very important to learn. I
had to learn that I had value in God's eyes whether I could
do anything or not. Just by existing, I had value. Just by
continuing to believe, however less than glorifying, I was
precious to God.
I
am very much a doer, a perfectionist, who has always worked
hard and achieved a lot. All of a sudden, all of the things
I had worked so hard for were as nothing. I couldn't do any
of them. All I had going for me was my ability to love--to
love God despite everything, to love Malcolm and to love Deanna.
And, over time, I discovered that this was enough.
This
is a hard-earned lesson that God has taught me, but more than
that, I feel as though I am meant to share it with others
who feel useless or hopeless--whatever the reason. I urge
you to realize that just by carrying on in the face of difficulties
is a triumph. You do have value in the eyes of God!
The
Healing
Here
my story takes another dramatic turn. Five years after I was
diagnosed, my husband asked for, and received, a book for
Christmas entitled "Intercessory Prayer" by Dutch Sheets.
After he had finished it, I decided to read it, because I
felt that my prayer life could use a tune up. Quite simply,
that book changed my life.
I
had been raised in a conservative evangelical church where
faith healings were not something that were discussed. When
trials came, the people in my church kept the faith and believed
that whatever befell them was God's will. There is certainly
value in that thinking. It helps us to be consistent in our
faith. It keeps us from great disappointment when God does
not answer our prayers the way we think he ought to.
But
I have found that one needs balance in one's spiritual life
as well as in everything else. When I read "Intercessory Prayer",
it was a dramatically new point of view for me. Here was a
man who believed that prayer caused change. When I sat down
and really looked at the Bible (which I have studied all my
life), I realized how much I was missing with my Job-like
approach. Consistently in the Bible, prayer and faith changed
lives. Why should I be any different?
Do
you know that until then, I had never asked God to heal me.
I was just thoroughly convinced that fibromyalgia was God's
will. But what if it wasn't? What if it was an attack by Satan
(not the way I usually think at all)?
Still,
I was uncertain about whether I would be stepping outside
of God's will by even asking to be healed (a lifetime of teaching
is difficult to shrug off sometimes). So I prayed a conditional
prayer. I prayed that if it was Satan holding me back and
in pain, that God would heal me; but if God intended for me
to have fibromyalgia, I promised that I would be his servant
in this as in everything.
The
very next day I had my first answer to that prayer.
Answer
#1. A friend of mine called me and, during our conversation,
she mentioned that her dentist wanted to replace all her fillings
so that she wouldn't have any silver fillings. She asked what
I thought and I said that I thought her dentist was after
her money. The next day, there was a story in our local newspaper
about the problem of toxic waste from dental offices. Apparently,
the material used in silver fillings or silver amalgams, as
they are called, is over 50% mercury. This waste was causing
problems in the sewers of the major city nearby our hometown.
When I discovered this, I thought "If this is a problem in
the sewers, what is this stuff doing in my mouth?"
I
began to do some research and the more I discovered, the more
astounded I was. It turned out that over 80% of the symptoms
I showed with fibromyalgia were also symptoms of mercury toxicity
in the body. There are some truly remarkable stories on the
internet on this topic. I wouldn't have even read this newspaper
article, if my friend hadn't asked me about this. This was
my first answer to prayer.
Answer
#2. While in the health-food store the next day, I
impulsively decided to buy a new book on fibromyalgia. I had
read many books when I was first diagnosed, but it had been
over a year since I had read anything new. Within this book,
it was strongly advised that all silver fillings be replaced.
You may think all of this is a coincidence, but I don't think
so. I think God was consistently trying to show me the direction
to take.
Answer
#3. By now, I figured that it would be a good idea
to have my fillings checked. Obviously not everyone who has
silver fillings has health problems, so what was going on?
In order to get a straight answer, I had to change dentists.
I was sitting in my new dentist's chair just one day after
my initial call. Using the latest technology, they were able
to show me to my complete satisfaction that at least two of
my fillings were leaching mercury into my system. The fillings
were over thirty years old and the amalgam had broken down.
Apparently,
the solidity of this amalgam is one of the keys as to why
this problem strikes some but not others. Following the advice
I had found on the internet, I decided to have only one quarter
of my fillings replaced at a time so as not to overload my
system. I took several further precautions, including having
a rubber dam used in my mouth.
Answer
#4. I had discovered on the
internet that it is possible to get rid of heavy metals in
the body by something called chelation. It is an alternative
medicine, not yet accepted by mainstream doctors. I found
the names of two or three local doctors who administered chelation
and then I approached my family physician. He immediately
focused on one of the names and said that he knew this one
doctor and that he had sent patients to him for EDTA chelation.
I
couldn't believe it! Everything I read about this therapy
implied that I would meet resistance from standard medical
practitioners. Here was yet another indicator of the way in
which I should go. So after each dental appointment, I also
received chelation treatment to rid my body of any harmful
effects of the procedure.
Answer
#5. Before proceeding with this
treatment, I wanted to make sure that I was obedient to the
Bible's teachings, so I called friends of ours who were pastors
in a more charismatic church than our own. They agreed to
come and do a laying on of hands. I believe that this step
of faith on my part contributed to my healing every bit as
much as all of the other measures I was taking. The Result
The treatment took place over approximately 2 1/2 months.
After the final treatment was done, our family went on vacation.
Two
weeks after the final treatment, I found I could go on water
slides, walk long distances that I could never do before and
was generally feeling over 80% better. I've had people say,
"Why weren't you healed 100%?" All I can say is, I don't know,
but God does. I'm just grateful to be back to this level of
functioning. I was back to my normal self. I could enjoy life
again. I could write again. About a year after this miracle,
I decided that I wanted to contribute something to to world--to
use the gifts God gave me. I came up with the idea for this
book. It is a great joy to be able to write again and, hopefully,
to help people.
The
Exhortation
So,
while you may have been told your situation is hopeless, never
give up! Most doctors don't profess to understand every working
of the human body and God can do the impossible. Even if you
do not re-gain your health or overcome whatever is holding
you back, God loves you. He loves you whether you're well
or not, whether you're flawed or not. I hope that my experience
will help someone else in their own struggles, whether that
be in a marital relationship or not.
May
God bless you.
Carol
|