Faith asked me the other day why my hands were shaking and I just told her they always shake. Well, they do...lately. My grandmother's hands shook (my father's mother) and I always thought it was just an old people thing. Well, now that I'm not a child, or even a youngster, I realize she died at a fairly young age -- in her mid-60s (the older one gets, the younger one's elders appear). Especially when I compare that to my mother's mother, who died at 97, mid-60s seems young. My poor father, as I've told you, got his call at age 42. I don't know whether to feel old or young based on all those numbers. Will I be like my father's family, or my mother's?
photo by Noah
I have been doing some online research lately about the blood work I've had done through the endocrinologist, and I also had a little scare from my anti-coagulation pharmacist, both of which have had me thinking about...well, death. I know better than to borrow trouble on this topic, because I know from living that we can't know when our time will come, and as long as we live as God wills us, it should make no difference.
"For if we live, we live for the Lord, and if we die, we die for the Lord; so then, whether we live or die, we are the Lord’s." Romans 14:8
But, the thing about living with chronic illness, or pain, or any ailment that keeps one from living life "normally," is that on one hand, my ailments are not terminal, and I should be (and am) grateful, but, on the other hand, they keep me from doing all the things I'd like to do to fully live.
"Yet he knows my way; if he tested me, I should come forth like gold." Job 23: 10
The scare with the anti-coagulation pharmacist was a perfect example. It's funny... but, not. I go to an anti-coagulation clinic at least once a month. I have to have my INR checked because I take warfarin to prevent blood clots. I clot. I don't know why -- I'm one of 75% of people on blood thinners for clots who don't know why we clot, we just do. I have had four clotting episodes, one postpartum (not abnormal), one superficial but not prompted (abnormal), a very severe superficial clotting incident in two veins post-abdominal surgery (not abnormal, but not normally so severe either) and one DVT completely unprompted (abnormal). My brother had a DVT and my uncle had a pulmonary embolism -- clearly there's something unidentifiable about our genetic makeup that creates clots in some of us.
Anyway, I go to the clinic every four weeks, or more often if my numbers are not ideal. Every time I go, they ask a series of questions regarding falls, abnormal bruising or accidents. Last week I went and when asked about accidents, I showed the pharmacist where Faith had accidentally slammed my hand in the door. It had bruised, gone from purple to green and was back to normal, but I still had a little pillow of fluid in the top of my hand where the blood had accumulated -- it had been a couple weeks since the accident. I also told her that Faith had also accidentally closed the hatch of my car on my head. It hadn't bled, but because the bump was under my hair (and on top of my head) I really couldn't tell if it bruised. The pharmacist got a very serious expression on her face, and she said, "If that ever happens again you need to go to the ER." I responded, "I didn't feel faint -- I didn't feel anything at all, except pain." And she responded that by the time I had symptoms it would be too late. I could have had an intracranial bleed and died. Makes me feel a bit like a ticking time bomb. We joked at home about mom wearing a helmet.
That issue, paired with feeling just plain old, and shaky, and the blood work results from the endocrinologist makes me feel rather unsettled.
I guess I just told you what's going on in my head because I knew you'd tell me not to worry. It serves no purpose, right?
Can any of you by worrying add a single moment to your life-span? Matthew 6:27
photo by Noah