Still Sick

This post is part of the 31 Days Writing Challenge, in which a group of writers post a piece every day for the month of October. Want to read all of my posts in this series? Click here

On Fridays this month, I’ve been telling the story of Husband-Mans journey through illness this year. I know that today is Thursday, but I figured you’d want to know how he’s doing now. 

So, how does Husband-Man’s story end?

Isn't he cute?

Isn’t he cute?

It’s not close to over yet. And I’m very thankful for that. The story of his sickness will only be over when he dies and is in heaven with Jesus. When you get diagnosed with an autoimmune disease, you don’t ever get rid of it. Sometimes you go into remission, and other times you don’t.

His liver hasn’t been inflamed for the past six months, thanks to the treatment he’s received. Next month, he’ll go back to the doctor to talk about reducing the amount of one of his medicines gradually (barring any other issues) until he’s off of it completely. Then, he takes another drug for a few years to give his liver a chance to heal. Then he gets another really fun test to see how his liver is doing, and we go from there.

The rest of our lives is going to be a waiting game with this illness, but the rest of our lives are a waiting game regardless. What matters is how we choose to wait.

This month, we’ve been thinking through what we wait for and how we go through that time of waiting. For me, me this intense period of waiting has opened my eyes to the opportunities that I’ve missed because I was waiting passively. I have spent so much of my life waiting without actively seeking God in that waiting. Waiting on Husband-Man’s health has forced me to turn to God, because I knew I had no where else to turn. I’ve had the opportunity to live every day like his life was in danger, and have learned to appreciate him so much more. I’ve had to rely daily on God’s provision of strength and grace. I had the opportunity to learn that waiting is a way that God draws me to himself.

And it’s been a blessing. A huge, painful blessing that has impacted my life. I’m so thankful for this blessing, because if God had not brought me though this, instead of enjoying my time with Husband-Man and being active with him while he was sick, I would have sat idly by waiting for something to happen and would have missed the opportunity to walk with him through one of the hardest times of his life.

How has waiting actively blessed you or your loved ones?


Day 27

October has been my month of “falling apart”. I have been in and out of doctor’s offices all month. Am I sick like Husband-Man is sick? Nope. I just have a cluster of yuck that’s not wanted to go away.

No matter how much I’d like to whine about how miserable this month has been, I’m going to refrain. You don’t want to know. You REALLY don’t want to know.

So, have I handled this cluster of yuck well? No. I haven’t.  Let’s be real. I’ve cried a lot. I’ve made Husband-Man feel bad while I lay on the couch and refuse to move. I’ve bemoaned driving to the doctor and getting tests done. (Poor me. I have access to excellent medical care. #firstworldproblems #brat #notcoolself.) I’ve cried some more. I’ve complained.

I’ve been attempting to make Mondays in October about being “around the house”, and this month, I’ve made my house yucky. And I’m ashamed of it.

And of course, I want to tell the internet-world that I’m great and I’ve got all the stuff together. Lies. All lies.

So, around the house this week, I’m failing. I’m sick (with what we still don’t know), and I’m waiting to get better. This week, I want to try to wait better. To tell God about my yuck and to trust Him.

What has your yuck been? Do  you need to wait with more grace?

This post is part of the 31 Days Writing Challenge, in which a group of writers post a piece every day for the month of October. Want to read all of my posts in this series? Click here

Getting Sick

This post is part of the 31 Days Writing Challenge, in which a group of writers post a piece every day for the month of October.Want to read all of my posts in this series? Click here

On Fridays this month, I’ll be telling the story of Husband-Mans journey through illness this year. This post is about when we first found out that Husband-Man was sick.

At first, we just thought it was post-graduation exhaustion. I had just finished a part time MBA while working full time, and Husband-Man had just finished two bachelor’s degrees and a minor. We traveled a lot while preparing for finals to see family during Thanksgiving. Family had just come in for graduation and Christmas, and we had spent days at my parent’s house.

So when Husband-Man said that he didn’t feel good when we were supposed to go to our friends’ for New Years Eve, we didn’t think much of it. We were sure that he was just getting some winter-ick and settled in for the night. He fell asleep at 10:00 PM and I stayed up watching chick flicks. It felt pretty normal.

But his midsection kept hurting. He went to a retreat with camp friends, and his midsection was sore. His stomach hurt. He felt a little bit slow, but we didn’t think it was a big deal. He was just tired from too much school and not enough rest.

He still wasn’t feeling good. We were starting to get worried, but Husband-Man hates going to the doctor. He kept putting it off and putting it off.

And then, one morning, something else happened. His urine was the wrong color. (Don’t get offended. Everybody pees.) It turned the color of orange Mountain Dew. And we both got scared.

So, he went to the doctor. She ran test after test, and discovered that his liver was inflamed. Really, really inflamed. Almost to the point where he would need to be put in the hospital. His levels were so high that she called him every day to check and see how he was doing. She sent him for tests every other day to make sure that his liver inflammation was still within “acceptable” limits. (“Acceptable limits”= not quite to the point where he has to be put in the hospital.) She consulted with specialists at university hospitals and called us with updates. She researched and ran more tests. The tests continued, and eventually, he got referred to a specialist.

And the whole time, Husband-Man was getting worse. We didn’t know if what he had could be spread, so we stopped visiting friends. He didn’t hold new babies, just in case. He got off the couch less and less. He watched a lot of Star Trek. He played a lot of games on the Wii. He didn’t want to eat anything. His skin turned yellow. And one snowy day when I made snow cream, I noticed that his eyes were yellow.

He didn’t want to tell people that he was sick because we didn’t know what was wrong. Our families knew that he was sick, and my coworkers knew because I would burst into tears when on the phone with him after he got more news from a doctor and because I took so much time off work to take him to the doctor.

I was terrified. I would cry at night, worried sick.

And so the waiting began. “Life” kept going. I still had to work. People got married, had parties, and went on with their lives. I was consumed with the fact that my husband was very ill, but that we couldn’t do anything about it. There was nothing that we could do but wait.

Wait-Series Image

Have you noticed that when you’re in a crisis, it seems like life should stop? When has your life seemed to stop while the “rest of the world” keeps going?