When Trials Should Come...

Though Satan should buffet,

Thought trials should come,

Let this blessed assurance control:

That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,

and has shed His own blood for my soul.

 This has been the longest 12-day stretch of my life, I think. It's been 12 days of pain, mental and physical exhaustion, desperation and spiritual warfare. I feel like such a weakling to use words like that, but it's really been hard.

It all started while on vacation in Saint Louis, on our last full day there and during the meal I had been looking forward to the most. I was almost finished with my grilled chicken sandwich when I choked on a normal-sized bite. That's happened before, regularly in fact since the first of the year, so aside from being embarrassed and a bit scared for the moment, I didn't think much of it.

But then dinner came and I couldn't swallow anything. Not even ice cream. I was up most of the night in dreadful pain because I couldn't swallow well and because I was having abnormally bad acid reflux (I've dealt with this for years now). I knew that I just needed to get some rest and the next day would be okay, and I finally fell asleep.

But then Sunday came...and I couldn't eat breakfast, or lunch...or dinner. It's hard to explain, but I just couldn't swallow. This led to a starvation diet of sorts for a couple of days until I succumbed to seeing the doctor. Their first thought was that it was an issue with my gallbladder, so we did an ultrasound on that. Normal.

Okay, so let's try some ulcer (heavy antacid) medication. Oops...allergic reaction that results in a panic attack that results in my first-ever visit to the emergency room. That was humbling on so many levels. Once again, everything checks out okay, so the doctor recommends a scope of my esophagus.

There was a lot of "red tape" of sorts to get the scope scheduled, so it was a week later before we got to do that. Oh my. My heart rate was above 130 before they started. I was terrified. I would rather have any other surgery, I think, than have someone stick a tube down my throat. My mouth is tiny as it is and there is no room for anything unusual in there. Goodness, even my tonsils got kicked out a few years ago. :-)

The anesthesia worked perfectly for a few minutes but then I woke up right in the middle of the procedure. I remember trying to push them away and gagging uncontrollably (attractive, right?) before I guess they gave me even more gas. The doctor told my mom later that they gave me as much as possible while still allowing me to breathe on my own. I guess everything went okay after that, as the next thing I remember was seeing my mom and Ryan walk into my little curtained area.

Doctor: "I can't find anything wrong."
Delirious Me: "You can't find anything right?"
Doctor: "No, I can't find anything wrong. You're completely normal."

At this point I start weeping uncontrollably. I couldn't even talk. Ryan tried to explain to the doctor for me that I was just devastated because I fully expected the problem to be resolved that day, or at least that the problem would make itself known. He assured us that he didn't see anything, but that he was going to schedule a Barium swallow for Friday to see if perhaps there was a muscle issue affecting my ability to swallow. I couldn't do anything but cry for several minutes. I've lost 10 pounds at this point.Something is wrong.

Strangely enough, I was able to eat that night. All I can say is that it is the abundant grace of God that He allowed that when I needed it most. It was such a blessed gift to me that evening.

Wednesday morning came, though, and I couldn't eat again. I made a big mistake and tried to start with oranges, which I think really messed me up because of their acidity. Another day with little to no food. Desperation is setting in.

Today has been a better day. I've decided to try taking an over-the-counter antacid every day for a bit in hopes of healing my esophagus from damage caused from acid reflux. It's all I know to try right now, in addition to taming my diet considerably. Tomorrow we will do the Barium swallow (which I'm not hearing rave review about, but after the scope, I think I can handle most anything) and see what that shows.

So that's where we're at. I've been able to eat a bit today and that's encouraging, but I still feel like I'm searching for answers to a problem I never expected to face. This whole experience has given me so many lessons that will no doubt stick with me longer than this issue will. This post is already long, but it's been a while, so please indulge me if you can.

1- I place way too much value on food. If going without it for 12-ish days makes me this miserable mentally as well as physically, it's something I am far too dependent on. That's very different now.

2- Food may help me live, but it's not what gives me life. The Word of God is my Bread of life. Jesus is my satisfaction. God has already taken me from death to life. Food is merely a gift from Him to provide for a physical need - it does nothing for my soul.

3- My husband really loves me. I've known this, but to hear him say he would take this in my place, or even rather die than to see my suffer, that means something. The fact that he has been patient in my exhaustion and lack of interest in cooking food that I can't eat is pretty special, too.

4- I don't need nearly as much food as I think I do. An Ensure milkshake really is enough to get me through lunch. I don't need a biggie sized fry, hamburger and diet coke (oh, the irony) to get me to dinner.

5- There are much greater problems that I could be facing. Many people around the world are hungry because they have no food, not because they can't swallow for a season. Do I care as much as I want people to care about me right now?

6- God is bigger than any of this. He could remove it from me in an instant, but He has chosen not to at this time. Somehow, He can receive more glory through this than through a 'healthy' me. I've seen some proof of that so far, but so much of it I just have to trust. I might not ever understand, but I have to accept.

Where does all of that leave me? Humbled. Thankful. Changed. Well.

It is well with my soul.

It is well, it is well with my soul.