20 Seconds to Toast

A little less that three weeks ago my downstairs neighbor came home from work after midnight and decided to fry potatoes.  After getting them started he took his computer, sat down in his living room to surf the net and promptly fell asleep.  Due to a severe hearing problem he did not hear his smoke alarm go off and when he finally awakened to the smell of smoke, there was a small fire already spreading in the kitchen. He panicked and attempted to put out the grease fire by spraying it with water.  It was the worst mistake he could have made.  The fire erupted, catching the rest of the kitchen, dining room and hallway on fire.  Instead of dialing 911 he tried to find a fire extinguisher, wasting precious seconds. Finally he called for help and firefighters were dispatched.  He grabbed his laptop and went outside, leaving the front door open as he fled.  He proceeded to lean against the tree waiting for help, while his neighbors slept, unaware of what was happening.  

Meanwhile a neighbor living on the other side of the complex heard popping noises and thought that a car was being vandalized.  He went outside and saw the flames and immediately called 911 while his wife called my next door neighbor to tell him to get out.  She didn't have my number but screamed my name repeatedly to attempt to awaken me.  I never heard her.  My next door neighbor called me but my phone volume was off and I was blissfully asleep, completely unaware that a fire was now raging below me as he screamed into his phone for me to get out.

Just a few minutes later Zeus awakened me, acting like he had made a mess.  It was 2:00 am and I was groggy but got up to see if I needed to clean up after him.  He followed me with his tail down, obviously very upset. Then I noticed the smell of burning plastic and began to look around.  I could not find anything upstairs so I went down and continued looking.  Then I noticed that the apartment was hazy and just as I got to the back patio door and saw flames shooting up my smoke alarm began blaring.

I dialed 911 in a panic and was told that firefighters were on their way.  I heard their sirens as they pulled up and in near hysteria begged the operator for help.  He told me I had to leave the apartment immediately.  I told him there were flames shooting up my patio so he told me to go to the front door.  If it was cool I was to open it and escape down the front stairs.  I opened it and was overcome with thick, black smoke.  I quickly slammed it shut and told him there was too much smoke.  He told me I had no choice but to leave immediately, the fire was out of control and I had to get out.  I was terrified and forgot everything I had ever learned about fire safety.  A moist wash cloth to cover my face?  It never even occurred to me.  Crouch and stay low?  Are you kidding me?  I just wanted to run.  I couldn't fathom how I could stay low as I was going down a flight of stairs.  Unfortunately I had no alternative but to try to get out so I grabbed my dog and my purse, put on some flip flops and opened the door.  

A thick wall of billowing smoke greeted me as I opened the door again and being in a panic I was gasping instead of holding my breath.  I was immediately disoriented as I breathed the toxic fumes and could not figure out where I was in relation to my apartment, even though I had just stepped outside of my front door.  I was confused about whether I had gone down any stairs; I simply could not tell up from down or right from left.  As I tried to descend the first section of stairs I was losing consciousness and began to fall, quickly grabbing the railing which was fiery hot from the smoke, unaware that I burned my fingers.  I screamed at the 911 operator, asking why no one was helping me and then dropped the phone.  My last conscious thought was that I was going to die on the landing, and how I now knew why smoke inhalation killed so quickly.  I was just steps from clean air and safety but I couldn't see it or get to it and I could no longer breathe.  Had the firefighters not been rushing up the stairs to get me, it is likely that Zeus and I would have died.

It was a terrifying experience that left me in shock for several days.  I've had many nightmares from being trapped in the smoke, trying to get to safety only to crumble in a heap on the landing, poisoned by toxic smoke.  I've shed many tears and lost my lunch more than once at the thought of how close I came to dying a tragic death.   It was a sobering reminder that life is fragile and precious when I was told that firefighters said that I was "20 seconds to toast".   Yikes. 

There are many pieces to pick up in order for me to rebuild.  Everything I own was either damaged or destroyed.  My physical health has suffered and I still have a nagging cough and bronchitis triggered by breathing so much smoke.  For almost 2 weeks I coughed up black soot and nursed my charred fingers, trying to be thankful that I was not crispy, but only lightly toasted...

There are so many more things to share about the aftermath that I will post later.  Suffice it to say that the last 3 1/2 months of my life have been almost more than I can bear.  Neurosurgery, a layoff, unemployment, a new job and now a fire have left me wounded, raw and exhausted.  Yet I'm grateful for a God who walks with me, a community of people who love, serve, challenge and care for me despite my circumstances, and last but not least a little hero who made sure I was awake and saved both of us from certain death.  More than ever I am happy to be alive despite the circumstances of late, aware that at any given time I am no more than 20 seconds to toast.

Dream Analysis: Poisoned Popcorn

I love naps, especially my Sunday afternoon naps.  They are necessary to get me through my nap-free weeks.   I turn the fan on, cover up and snuggle with my sweet little Zeus while drifting off to either the TV or the iPod.  Maybe the background noise is a bad idea.  Yes, it keeps me from hearing various neighbors' drama, among other things I'd rather forget; however, it leads to the strangest dreams. 

Exhibit A: 

Zeus and I were walking in the ghetto, obviously MY favorite place to take a leisurely stroll.  As we were meandering along, a few of the riff-raff caught Zeus' eye.  He liked the hot little number with the golden fur and flirted with her shamelessly.  Maybe he felt sorry for her because she was homeless, but after a few days of pining for his new crush he ran away with her leaving me sad and alone.    

I was worried sick and spent several hours running through the ghetto and eventually found my way to the thick forest, which had magically appeared out of nowhere.  I ventured in, calling for Zeus the entire time.  Finally I heard his reply, a combination of squealing and barking that sounded rather like he was being tortured.  I ran to him and found him with his new lady love and another "friend" stuck on the top of a tall tree-bush, yes a tree-bush.  I'm guessing it was a hybrid.  ;-)  I was afraid to climb the odd looking tree-bush so I called for Zeus and he leaped into my arms, confident that I would catch him.  He had broken up with his lady friend after he realized he really loved me best and could not live without me.  I was so happy he chose me that I helped the riff-raff out of the tree-bush and flew them home to the ghetto.  But I had to hurry, because I had a work emergency and no time to scold Zeus for running away and almost eloping!  I was an undercover FBI agent who was working on a case and I needed my sidekick to help me solve the mystery.  

Once we landed we entered our secret laboratory, which looked suspiciously like the Bat Cave.  After turning on my ear piece I received an update from FBI headquarters, located in Sweden.  The North Koreans were planning to release a deadly toxin and we were running out of time to figure out when and where.  Jack Bauer needed me to figure it out and relay the information to him so he could stop the attack.  Hard at work intellectually I sat in a huge recliner and snuggled Zeus.  Finally Zeus impatiently jumped down and ate a piece of buttered popcorn and then pretended to get sick.  Suddenly I knew that the North Koreans were going to poison all of the popcorn at every movie theater in San Antonio!  Oh my!!!  I called Jack, he put a stop to it and Zeus was crowned a hero for keeping movie goers safe.  He got a treat of Persian chicken kabobs with rice and then we took a long walk, far, FAR away from the ghetto.

The end.

Interpretation:

• Walking in the ghetto is not smart
• Zeus loves me best even though he was tempted by the golden-furred floozy
• I will find him if he tries to run away
• Tree-bushes are weird
• Doggy break-ups hurt almost as much as human break-ups
• I can FLY!!!
• The Bat Cave is REALLY cool in person
• 24, The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo and The Orphan Master's Son are alive and well in my sub-conscious
• I will no longer take walks in the ghetto

Grandma Jim

I'm missing my Grandma Jim today.  No particular reason, other than we would have celebrated her (94th?) birthday this week.  Maybe that's why she has been on my mind more than usual lately.  She was my favorite person;  affectionate, kind, friendly, genuine, happy, loving and just plain adorable.  A registered nurse in her younger days and a hippie, Yoga instructor and massage therapist in her twilight years, she worked through her retirement for travel money. And travel she did through 6 continents and numerous countries. Whether she was exploring Asia, enjoying Australia and New Zealand, hiking Machu Picchu on her 80th birthday, backpacking in Europe, roaming around India or riding camels in the shadow of the Egyptian pyramids, she was optimistic about others and wanted to know as much as she could about the world she inhabited.  I proudly blame her for my travel addiction and love of adventure!

Now don't get me wrong, she wasn't perfect, but she somehow understood me and loved me better than anyone else ever has.  She encouraged me to grow into myself instead of worrying about being who others thought I should be.  She didn't judge me when I went through awkward phases, she just loved me in spite of myself.  I would always be a princess to her.  She actually believed that I was one of the most amazing creatures she had ever known.  She loved me uniquely and without pretense, and she loved me in ways I didn't realize I needed until much later in my life.  That is an amazing feat in this broken world and I only hope I can grow into someone who loves as well as she did.  

Grandma Jim didn't see color or status; she wasn't turned off by mental illness, addiction or blatant flaws.  She just loved people where they were. One of the best flesh and blood examples of how well Jesus loves; He was able to love so many people through her.  Personally she was able to reach a part of me that no one else could.  A very lonely, miserable little girl pretending that life was okay, I desperately needed to know that I could be loved despite the damage that had hammered my heart and soul for so many years.  Now I can look back and see God's footprints all over my life, when I could not see them before. I am overwhelmed with the love and grace extended to me and I want to be the kind of person who lets his love, mercy and grace flow through me instead of greedily withholding it when others disappoint me, speak ill of me or make unfair assumptions and judgments about me.

I am so grateful for the time I had with her, but oh do I wish she were still walking around in the flesh; free as a bird, happy, friendly, funny and more than a little crazy.  Instead her ashes are scattered at the family cabin built by my grandfather and great uncle shortly after they returned from fighting in WWII.  It has been over 10 years since we said goodbye and I'm missing her more now than ever.  I wish I could talk to her, travel the world with her, get a bear hug from her, laugh with her, play Boggle or Tripoley with her and simply let myself feel deeply known and loved again.

I miss you Grandma Jim.  You're always in my heart.

Living With An Invisible Illness: Behcet's Disease

I don't talk about this much, but maybe the following list will help you understand what I've been dealing with lately and why I'm too exhausted to write much or socialize.

 21 Things About Behcet's You May Not Know:

1. The illness I live with is: Behcet's Disease
2. I was diagnosed in the year: 2011
3. I've had symptoms since: 2007
4. The biggest adjustment I've had to make is: Working less, giving up social activities, spending my fun money on health care
5. Most people assume: I'm lazy or depressed, not sick
6. The hardest part about mornings are: Waking up.  It's almost impossible if I do not get at least 10 hours of sleep.  Also, joint pain is worse in the mornings and it takes awhile for the stiffness and swelling to decrease so I can stand up straight and walk without a limp
7. The hardest part about nights are: Finding a comfortable sleeping position and dealing with the constant itching which increases at night and often awakens me.  I frequently scratch so deeply that I bleed and end up with scabs all over my legs, arms, torso and shoulders
8. Each day I take ___ pills and vitamins (no comments please):  On an average day I take 4 prescription medications and 3 vitamins, but if I'm experiencing a flare I take an additional 2-3 prescription medications
9. Regarding alternative treatment: I am very open to alternative treatment options, traditional medication has not offered me much hope or relief.  I am also researching the role of diet and hope to determine if some of my symptoms can be controlled by eliminating certain foods
10. Regarding work/career:  This has been extremely challenging for me and my boss.  I used to be so dedicated to my job, worked whatever was necessary, poured my heart and soul into it, but now I simply cannot do it.  I often find it difficult to work 8 hours a day, let alone more.  I am afraid it will cost me my job, which is upsetting because I have no one to help me with my finances, etc.  It's just me trying to support myself, cook, clean, pay bills, and heal this broken body and soul - it's getting harder everyday
11. People would be surprised to know:  That although the fatigue and pain are constant, the scratching is by far the most difficult symptom to manage as are some of the more embarrassing symptoms
12. The hardest thing to accept about my new reality has been: Losing life as I knew it.  I can no longer travel, I socialize very little and my weekends are reserved for resting - If I don't sleep several additional hours on Saturday/Sunday I will not be able to work the next week and will likely end up fighting a virus/fever/cold.....
13. Something I never thought I could do with my illness that I did was:  It hasn't happened yet because this is still too new for me, but I hope to get healthy, active and fit and then travel to Europe again
14. The commercials about my illness:  There ARE no commercials for Bechet's, most doctors have not even heard of it, let alone the general public
15. Something I really miss doing since I was diagnosed is: Enjoying a social life, working and playing hard, traveling to exotic destinations and exploring different cultures
16. It was really hard to have to give up: My social life
17. A new hobby I've taken up since my diagnosis is: Does sleeping count as a hobby?  
18. If I could have one day of feeling normal again I would: Play golf, paint my upstairs rooms, deep clean my apartment, cook dinner and dessert for friends and play with my nieces and nephews
19. Want to know a secret? It really gets under my skin when people say: Call me if you need anything.  Ha!  You would be so annoyed if I actually took you up on that offer because the needs are endless right now
20. Something that has surprised me about people's response to my illness has been: How quickly they walk away, quit calling or judge me for my inability to function like I used to.  It makes me really sad
21. My illness has taught me: How very weak and vulnerable I am, but although my body is weaker my faith is surprisingly stronger.  Perhaps because I have no on else to lean one and no illusions of being taken care of by anyone else but my Creator!

Dancing in the Rain

Several years ago, long before my Texas nieces and nephews cared about their hair or clothes, or whether they were cool or uncool, before the angst of adolescence settled over them, we used to dance in the rain. 

As the first drop fell we would excitedly run outside to twirl and dance in the grass, arms lifted, mouths open, tongues catching raindrops, all the while giggling and splashing with total abandon. It was glorious to play in the cool, refreshing shower and always left us giddy and breathless.  We would smile for hours afterward as we sat snuggled on the sofa, covered in beach towels, watching cartoons and sipping cocoa.

For those brief moments, I allowed myself to indulge in carefree spontaneity.  I would spin, laugh and totally lose myself in sheer delight, blissfully unconcerned with what anyone else thought.  It was a simple joy shared with kids who meant the world to me.  Of all the things I've done with them over the past 17 years, dancing in the rain is one of my most cherished memories. 

There's something healing and beautiful about a child's ability to enjoy the simplest things in life. Dancing with my nieces and nephews was the closest I've ever been to finding that ability in myself, to finding that innocent little girl of whom I have no memory all these years later.   

Lately there has been something stirring inside my soul, something unidentified trying to burst through my practical, reserved demeanor. I find myself yearning to dance in the rain again, both physically and spiritually.  I have no idea what it will look like, but I know I don't want to do it alone.  So if you're a brave, carefree soul and have any ideas, let me know and we'll find ways to dance with abandon, even if it isn't raining!

The Balance Beam

Once upon a time I was an aspiring gymnast.  Okay, not really, but I DID take a few lessons when I was a wee little thing.  I'm sure you can imagine the grace and skill I brought to the sport.  Ahem.

In all honesty, I was as terrible at gymnastics as I am at most sports.  Uneven bars?  TER-RI-FIED.  The  trampoline?  Convinced I was going to break my neck, although I outgrew that fear years later.  Uneven bars?  LET GO of one bar, fly through the air and try to grab the other bar? Um, no thank you.  Floor exercises?  I barely mastered a somersault, my cartwheels were crooked and roundabouts were ENTIRELY beyond my physical abilities.  Then there was the balance beam, the one thing I actually kind of liked and could obsessively practice almost anywhere.  The line in a parking lot became an imaginary balance beam.  The curb of a sidewalk was a chance for me to attempt walking on something narrow and elevated without falling flat on my face and breaking something. 

Sadly none of my practice paid off and almost 40 years later I'm still trying to master the balance beam.  Don't get me wrong, I can walk a straight line now and I don't (usually) fall off the curb; however, I do teeter back and forth when it comes to balancing the different responsibilities in my life.  It's silly because I don't have as many responsibilities as most people, which makes me feel guilty at how miserably I fail to balance what little I have.  No matter, consistency eludes me and I find myself repeatedly falling off the proverbial balance beam, trying desperately to put my life back together again Humpty-Dumpty style.  

It was easier when I was younger.  I was more driven and could push myself harder.  70-hour workweeks, 10-12 hours of BSF weekly, weekends full of social activities, volunteering at church?  No problem.  But now that I'm older not only do I lack the desire to push myself so hard, physically I simply cannot do it.

Years of not taking care of myself has led to some health concerns that keep me from living as actively as I once did.  My body is tired from years of see-sawing back and forth.  Will I treat it as a temple today?  Or will it better resemble the local garbage dump?

I was doing so well this time last year, but currently things are completely unbalanced in my life, again.  I find myself working late, neglecting my health and generally trying to do more than my body can handle.  Perhaps I'm in denial that this annoying auto-immune disease has taken up residence in my body, but it has and I must learn to deal with it so I can live a more peaceful life, not to mention regain my health.

I'm hopeful that with prayer, determination and rest I will regain the precious balance I've been missing lately.  If you struggle with balance in your life, then I hope and pray you find it.  On the other hand, if you've mastered the skill, can you please teach me?  I'm a little desperate!  ☺     

One Tear at a Time

One tear at a time

Fear

One tear at a time

Agony 

One tear at a time

Anger 

One tear at a time

Grief 

One tear at a time

Relief 

One tear at a time

Comfort  

One tear at a time

Hope  

One tear at a time

Faith 

One tear at a time

Forgiveness 

One tear at a time

Redemption 

One tear at a time

Mercy  

One tear at a time

Beauty 

One tear at a time

Peace 

One tear at a time

Grace 

One tear at a time

Restoration  

One tear at a time

Healing

Robin, a survivor

January 2010

Benched

• Proms
• Engagements
• Wedding showers
• Weddings
• Marriages
• Baby showers
• Babies
• Childrens' birthday parties
• Parenting

Just some of the ways women bond with each other.  All things I've never experienced and probably never will.  

Forgive me for whining, but today it is simply too much.  I feel left out.  Like my attempts on the field were so pathetic that the coach benched me; with no hope of me ever being good enough to even qualify as a last resort.  

On days like this, all I know to do is have a good cry and then try to count my blessings; to try and remember that I have a good life now:

• I'm happy - usually ☺
• I have amazing friends
• Family members who love me
• A good job
• Material possessions
• Travel experiences to die for
• Deep faith

The list is endless.  But it can be tricky to learn how to balance the blessings with the sadness and disappointment; the overwhelming loneliness; to own the reality of my losses while celebrating the wealth of my blessings.  

Maybe the answer is to create my own milestones and  celebrate them even if they don't make sense to anyone else.   Turn the mundane, ordinary and boring events into blowout parties!    

• Instead of a wedding shower - a housewarming party
• Instead of a baby shower - a puppy shower (which DID happen thanks to Cyndi and Dee at work!)
• Instead of a graduation ceremony - a party when I pass my CPC exam (IF I do!)

I'm sure it sounds silly to most of you, but it sounds like a lifesaver to me; a way to make my sidelined life worthy of celebrating, even if it's different from what I've always longed for and been repeatedly denied.  

I don't pretend to know how God works or why He does things so differently from my expressed wishes.  But he does and that's all there is to it. 

Learning to accept what I cannot change brings me into a deeper relationship with him and purifies me in a way that getting everything I want could never do.  I am learning how to appreciate that, but honestly I wish it weren't so painful.... 

So now, you'll have to excuse me while I open a new box of Kleenex, blow my nose for the 278th time, and then start planning a ridiculous, frivolous party, for no reason other than I am alive and kicking!  

 

God's Smile

• Earthquakes
• Tsunamis
• Riots
• Terrorist plots
• Economy
• Child abuse
• Murder
• Betrayal
• Politics

This world is in chaos and it's easy to let myself get caught up in the devastation I see around me. Then when I look at my own life, I have to fight to not be overwhelmed with disappointment. Many things are MIA. Things I wanted dearly have been replaced by withered hopes, unfulfilled longings and empty arms.

Just when I think I can take NO MORE.........

God smiles. 

(happy sigh)

Proof: I am incomprehensibly blessed with an abundance of friends who love me more than I deserve.  Friends who share life with me, even when it's messy. Friends who fight for me and let me fight for them. Friends who laugh with me, cry with me and share burdens with me.  Friends who need me and let me need them.  Friends who spoil me with time and attention.  And last week, friends who spoiled me with physical gifts on top of it all.

• Lunches
• Dinners
• Movies
• Concerts
• Art
• Giftcards
• Phone calls

All proof that God still smiles even when things look bleak.  Thank you friends for reminding me of God's grace and love toward me.  I hope I can do the same for you! 

Forgiving on a Sliding Scale

I have a new hero.  Her name is Eva Mozes Kor.  Her family of six was sent to Auschwitz during WWII.  Her mother, father and two older sisters all died in the camp.  Eva and her sister Miriam survived because they were twins, and Dr. Josef Mengele needed twins for his genetic experiments.  At 6 years of age the girls were subjected to horrific torture in the name of science.  The man known as the Angel of Death visited her daily, but failed to kill her body or spirit. 

As I watched a documentary about her life, I was struck by her ability to eventually forgive those who tortured her, even Dr. Mengele.  One statement summed up her entire outlook: "There is a lot more to my life than Auschwitz. I don't think about it every day, but it has changed my life forever." 

My own life has been fraught with pain and trauma, most of which I kept locked inside for almost 40 years.  Like Eva, there is a lot more to my life than my past traumas, but they definitely changed my life forever.  And although my experiences pale in comparison to hers and those who survived the Holocaust, genocides, wars and various other forms of torture throughout the centuries, I've struggled to forgive the people who stripped me of my innocence, of my ability to enjoy a carefree childhood, of who I could have been.

forgive [fəˈgɪv]

vb -gives, -giving, -gave, -given
1. to cease to blame or hold resentment against (someone or something)
2. to grant pardon for (a mistake, wrongdoing, etc.)
3. (tr) to free or pardon (someone) from penalty
4. (tr) to free from the obligation of (a debt, payment, etc.)

I am capable of comprehending the various definitions, but I still find myself wondering.... What does forgiveness really encompass and how do I apply it to my life?  How do I protect myself while forgiving those who have wronged me? How do I forgive those who don't want my forgiveness, or those who aren't even sorry? How do I forgive the criminals when I cannot forget the crimes? How do I stop resenting someone from wounding me without denying the existence of the wound? Can I ever trust someone again after being betrayed or hurt? The only answer I have right now is: I don't know.

Oh, I find it easy to forgive minor hurts and insults. Who cares if someone cut me off in traffic, gossiped about me, spoke harshly or generally slighted me? I have an abundance of grace in those instances. But cut me just a little deeper and suddenly I'm doling out forgiveness on a sliding scale.  The deeper the pain the less forgiveness I can muster. 

One of the most practical definitions I've heard is this: forgiveness is giving up my right to hurt you for hurting me.  I'm not there yet.  There is only one person I know who completely understands all of what forgiveness entails.  He knew that forgiveness is active and painful, but he faced it head on because he loved whom he loved (me) more than he hated what he hated (my sin): Jesus Christ, the most holy Son of God is my ultimate hero. Oh how I wish I were willing to love my offenders more than I hate what they did to me. Not just because I want to walk in obedience, but because I want to be filled with grace and mercy for my fellow travelers. I am finding that the road to forgiveness is paved with stones of humility. I must first recognize my own ability to wound and devastate others and seek forgiveness from Christ before I can offer it in return.  Only then can I forgive without reservation.

I know that I will always bear the scars of my wounds, just as Christ did, just as Eva Mozes Kor does, but I pray that those scars will not stop me from sincerely loving and pouring myself out to others. There are those who choose to live as victims forever, who stay in their own private Auschwitz, never finding freedom, peace and joy. They rot from the inside out, full of resentment and anger.  And then there is someone like Mrs. Kor who realized that physical freedom from the Nazis did not bring her freedom from the pain, she only found that when she forgave her tormentors.  

Obviously I have a long way to go in my understanding of forgiveness, grace and mercy.  I don't know much, but I do know a few things:

• Forgiveness is a process - it took Mrs. Kor 50 years!
• Forgiveness is not a denial of the truth
• Forgiveness does not erase the past
• Forgiveness does not deny or belittle the traumas we endure
• Forgiveness does not mean the offenders escape justice

Hopefully as I continue my pursuit of truth, God will grant me the ability to freely offer the same forgiveness I have been given.