Friday, July 30, 2010

Don't Ever Take Your Bowels for Granted, and Obey the Lord in the Early Hours

From Audrea
4am

Once again I am up early in the 4:00 hour because my poor stomach is just a churnin’ and a turnin’ and I’m awaiting my sweet nurse to bring me my small portion of pain medicine. That stuff, I think, has morphine in it, and I sure have been grateful, considering the pain I’ve been in when trying to (for the sake of being polite) “eliminate” waste. That part of the story, however, is for a little later.

I didn’t write yesterday because I’d had a bad night previous. I couldn’t go to sleep. I tossed and turned and by 1 a.m. I was cranky. I felt the Lord telling that I might as well get up, push my i.v. pole down the hall and pray for every single person on this floor.Well you know me, I had to make a fuss about that.

An argument ensued because all I wanted to do was fall asleep and stay asleep. I told the Lord people would think I was weird if I did that, and then I heard this voice (probably my own) say “people already think you’re weird, so get up and pray.” I realized this argument would continue until I obeyed, and with no hope of winning, I got up, unplugged my i.v. pole, and entered the bright hallway.No one was about, so I started on my end and slowly prayed for each patient, by name (since it’s written outside all the doors).

I figured out that about half of the patients were still awake, and most of them were well into their senior years. So I prayed for these special people who, like me, were recovering from surgery. I prayed for healing and I prayed they’d get some of the sleep I’d been deprived of.One or two of the nurses asked me if I was okay or sleepy, and I simply said I was praying. They asked me to include them, so I did.Once I finished my round, I headed back to bed and finally, around 2 a.m.

I fell asleep.

I “slept in” until 8 when the nurses came in, blinded me with the lights, took my vitals, and stuffed me full of medicine.Yesterday was a mixture of the good and the bad. I was able to find some independence by bathing myself all by myself. Oh glorious privacy.I was released from my TPM (the nutritional life support) to freely roam, unattached to my i.v. pole, for about 10 hours.

They have me on a new cyclical 14 hour intake of that stuff.So, when Jeff came in, bringing the children from getting their shots, we all took a little trip down to the “meditation garden” (guess that’s the politically correct way to call something a prayer garden). I somehow forgot it was Texas in the dead of summer. I lasted all of 3 minutes outside before calling it quits due to the extreme heat.We came back into the atrium, where I happily watched my children throwing pennies into the fountain and hopping from chair to chair.

Besides the fact that I was still in a dressing gown and sitting in a wheelchair, I felt normal watching them play unhindered.The rest of the day was a little rough. I was so very tired, but unable to sleep. And the “bowel issues” hit with full force.Because I only have the 4 inches to my small intestine my bowel functions are basically out of control. I cried sitting on the toilet as liquid streamed painfully from both ends. This is the way I’ll use the bathroom from now on, though the pain is supposed to eventually subside.

Don’t ever take your bowels for granted. I have to go a lot, too.Because I’m doing so well, I was given the go ahead to begin a “clear liquids diet”—I got to drink my first sip of water in over a week ( I have been so parched and crunching ice just doesn’t do the trick sometimes). I ate a cube of red jello, and I drank part of a glass of cranberry juice. I’m glad I didn’t overly indulge because those things, as expected, slid right through me, another bout of potty time blues.In light of everything that’s occurred, struggling with bathroom issues shouldn’t cause me as much angst as it is, but it is. I can’t get too far from a toilet, though the doctors have started me on some high powered, terrible tasting form of morphine that’s supposed to dull the pain (it does) and decrease the frequency at which I run into the bathroom. I never know when it’s going to hit, so pray for that.

I’m really struggling with this adjustment.· Pray for the next step.

We were basically accepted into a transplant program and given the green light to head up there as soon as the hospital cleared me, but we’re running into financial problems. The nature of how this occurred necessitated legal intervention and I hate that, but that’s the way the system is set up – like dealing with auto insurance after a car accident. I may wind up having to go home for awhile (learning to live on this TPN and hook myself up to the i.v. etc.) while the administrators and others work through the sticky details. I am a little worried about where it all will come from, but mostly the timing.

As you can well imagine, I’m ready for my transplant TODAY!

But, I have to trust that though this may present a big concrete roadblock, God is still in control and it will all be in His timing.

Prayer Requests:
· Pray for my mind and Jeff’s stress. Pray that we’ll truly learn to trust in God’s timing and provision for our every need.· Pray for my “movement” issues (and thank God the next time you go!!!) because I’m really struggling through this.

· Pray for my family and Jeff’s family to stay strong and united during this time.Once again, thank you for your love and support. Today is my oldest brother’s birthday (Aaron), so if you know him, give him a shout out. He’s supposed to share his birthday with me tonight, by coming by the hospital to play games.I’ve been trying to think of a clever poem or something to write about him, but the last time I did that I equated him to Chicken Little and I realized I should be encouraging/uplifting him instead.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

First Drink of Water after Eight Days

Have you ever been really, really thirsty? I remember once when I had some stomach thing, you know, we've all had them, the kind that whatever you put in comes up or down almost as fast and certainly more violently than the way it went in. I remember probably needing to be in the hospital, after not being able to keep anything down for two days, and my wife brought me a cold glass of water. Water, that simple, unobtrusive element that sustains life, never tasted so good.

So, I could not believe it when I was on the phone with my sister, who has had all but 23 inches of her small intestine removed from her body through no choice of her own, tells me that she had just had her first drink of water in eight days.

Duck took her first drink of water after eight days today. I just happened to be on the phone with her, and she said, "hold on", well since I was driving this was no small task, but to what she pleasured my eardrums with was something quite...well. I heard, gasps, chokes, grunts, and then something that sounded like...well, it's hard to explain, that "ahhhh" sound when something totally satisfies you.

I said, "Duck, what's going on over there?" She said, "well, I'm having to take my medicine and it's really nasty morphine that I have to stick under my tongue, it is the most disgusting tasting thing ever, and I have to wash it down." So, I thought, I was hearing the nasty medicine, in the mouth (gag), under the tongue (grunt), water (ahhhh), medicine going down (choke), more water (ahhh, more choke), more water (gulp), then satisfaction (more ahhhh's).

"Al, she said, that was my first drink of water since I've been in here. Jeff eats in front of me all the time, it doesn't bother me, but when he has that large, delicious looking cup of Coca-Cola, I start to salivate like the dog of Pavlov."

I think of a story from the Bible (John 4), where Jesus meets a woman who was at the well to acquire water. Jesus asks her for a drink. She looks at Jesus, doesn't give him a drink, suspiciously and without reservation, either through inquiry or chastisement says, "why do you ask me for a drink?" He gently then tells her that if she only knew who had asked her for a drink, she would've immediately asked Him for "living water."

Jesus then tells her that whoever drinks His water, His life, they will never thirst again, and "it will be a fountain of water springing up to everlasting life."

So, when I think of Audrea who hadn't had a drink in 8 days, suddenly getting to drink water, knowing that she, and you, and I will all thirst again. But Jesus Christ, has the ability to quench the thrist of our souls so that we will say "ahhhh" in him. It might take some grunting, gasping, choking, and gaping, but in the end, Jesus promises to those He gives His water/His life, they will continually say, "ahhhh".

As, you drink this day, this week, think of a young 31-year old mother, who laid in a hospital bed for 8 days before she sipped down some of the sweetest, most refreshing water she had ever tasted.

What do you take for granted? What fills your life?

Alex V

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Wednesday Morning Dawns

From Audrea:

I am up incredibly early in the morning. There’s an electric spark in the air and after Jeff helped me to the bathroom at 4:00 a.m., my mind was wide awake, grateful, and energized.

I slept 4 hours in a row, after a terrible coughing/choking fit from the NG tube, where my nurse had to rush in and save the day by pulling it out (through my nose). I guess that’s one way to get rid of something that’s caused so much pain in my ear.The tube was scheduled to come out later this morning, anyway, but I told Jeff they were going to think I choked on purpose to get it out.

Naturally, true to Jeff form, he said, “anybody who knows you knows you’re the chokingest fool alive.” It’s true and that’s our joke about me. I choke on anything.

On our first anniversary date, I choked so hard on a bread crumb that the entire restaurant basically stopped eating to turn and watch me. That was slightly embarrassing.This morning though, the electric charge I feel is the same as when you know good change is coming, like the first breath of cool air after a hot Texas summer. Change is coming, and I’m getting ready.I’m walking everywhere…well, everywhere they’ll allow me to on my floor. I’m ready to get out and explore the rest of the hospital. God is so amazing in that I have this drive--this energy-- that’s been missing.

Today is Wednesday; I entered the hospital exactly one week ago, where my life hung delicately waiting to see if my Holy Father would bring me to my eternal home.Even though I’m a Christian, there’s still been this earthly fear settled within me about heaven. I usually fear the unknown, and though I know what Scripture says about heaven, and I know it will be much more glorious than I can even imagine, heaven represents a change, an unknown “x” factor to after –life. Now, though, when I was almost there, I do feel just a little bit of regret that I missed it this time. I almost saw Jesus and I was ready.The fear is gone, though. Praise God, the fear is gone.

I’ve been thinking about the wonderful people who’ve come to visit. Thank you. You’ve been an encouragement to me. If you want to come see me, please do. I try to reserve the mornings for my exercise, bath, quiet time, and time for my children’s visits…afternoons for more exercise and rest (if it comes), and after 4 or 5 for visitors.

I was also thinking of all the offers for help, and I’ve thought of a way that you can help me in the immediate days ahead. I miss music. I miss worship music, praise music, lovin’ on the Father music, hymns…whatever. I want to see if Jeff will buy me a cheap little cd player, and if you would be so kind, send me your favorite Christian artist. You can send it to my house and Jeff will pick it up and bring it to me. I would be most grateful. 303 West Barron Avenue, Everman, TX 76140.

My usual favorite past-time is to read, and I’ve already received quite a collection. I’m not there yet, but I am ready to hear some uplifting words in the musical form.On another note, you’ve all been so gracious to write me. I haven’t even had time to check out my “Praying for Audrea” page since I’ve had a few moments online myself.

When my brother, Alex, was here, and I was still in ICU, he’d come back with his laptop and read me your beautiful words of prayer and encouragement. Thank you. I wish I could respond to every person who writes in. It honestly has been wearing me out trying to keep up, so please don’t shoot me dirty thoughts if I don’t respond.

My energy levels (though sparking with electricity this morning) don’t give me hours at a time to invest in one thing. I do one “task” and then rest, another one and then rest. Pretty soon, my endurance will be built up, but right now, rest must come after every little thing. And I MUST continue to heal

•Add my Jeff to your prayer list. He’s balancing so much right now. I want him to be able to find peace in all of his running back and forth, and to remain as stress free as possible, finding patience with the children, and the supernatural ability to get it all done.

•Pray for our next step. We think we have settled on a transplant center, but all of the small details that go into that require time and attention. Pray for the center, the doctors, and most of all the life that has to be lost so I may receive a new small bowel. And there is a waiting list, but we’ll find out soon what that all entails.Blessings on your Wednesday, and now I’m off, back to bed to rest.

From Alex:
We always knew my sister, the Duck, was a special girl, woman, wife, etc., but she continues to astound us all with her ability to be tenacious. Tenacity has always described her, but it is evident through the words that she pens, that she is both tired and driven. These juxtaposing ideas, are clashing in, over, and around her body. She is a woman whose mind is probably stronger than ever, her spirit is being renewed, yet her body is in a perilous way. She is the picture of the Christ-like life.

As you follow her story, please share it with others. She told our mother shortly after it happened, when she was more coherent and awake, "when people think of my name, I want them to think of God's glory." Point others to this blog, to her blog, to the Facebook pages, to the Bible, and ultimately to Christ. Audrea's life is about directing others to Christ. It is a narrow path that she is on, but the Word says, "narrow is the path to life, and there are few who find it."

We love you Duck!

Monday, July 26, 2010

The Meaning of "One Pink Duck"

Tom and Marta Vann on a cold day in Colorado, February 5th, 1979 to be exact, welcomed into life, one little, pink "ducky". The name ascribed to the birth certificate was not "Ducky" in fact, it was Audrea. Not many of the hearers of her name upon the initial sound in their ears is quite sure how to spell Audrea. Is it Audrey, is it Andrea, is it Audra? "No" it is A-U-D-R-E-A, like "ahh-dree-uh", oh, how interesting.

How interesting she truly is, and certainly would become. She, was later welcomed home by three rough, voracious, wild-eyed and wild-haired brothers: Aaron, Elliott, and Alex(ander). They did not quite now what to make of a little pink-skinned, pink-bowed, brown-eyed, tender, tiny little creature that was neither rough, rash, brash, or crass. Then, their "Faah-ther" (from Tom Vann's own Tidewater accent), kept referring to her as his little "Ducky". What? the boys would later think? Duck-ee? rhymes with Yuck-ee...and other cruel things that little brothers do to little sisters, but at least initially, they were enamored with her. Her father was so happy, a little, baby girl. Her mother, finally...not a boy.

The Family of three boys and a girl, a mom and a dad, quickly grew to five boys and a girl. A regular basketball team, 5 players, and a cheerleader. Duck, has always been our cheerleader. She has always checked-in, and checked-up on all her five brothers, their wives, and their children. She has been a perfect sister, despite, having no sister and all brothers.

Having five brothers will do something to you. I'm not sure what it is, but perhaps that is for another time, but what it did was draw her mother and father's hearts very close indeed. How could it not, a rose among so many thorns. Dad called her Ducky, it is derived from some expression our friends from across the Atlantic say to a little, cute girl--"ducky". She wasn't our little cute girl, she was our sister, so we dropped the "y" and just called her Duck. It never seemed strange to me that I was calling my sister a feathered, fowls name or that someone might have thought she resemebled a webbed-footed, flat-billed, swimming, honking cast of nature. No, without thinking, we would say, "where's Duck?", "hey, Duck, how's it going?", "what you reading these days, Duck?"

She is precious. She is kind. She is caring. She is honest. She is witty. She is funny. She can be cross. She can cause you to laugh at yourself or herself. She is very much her Father's daughter in many ways (but, she should be). Daddy's girl was Duck to her brothers.

We love our duck. Pink represents her femminity. My parents helped her protect her God-given, femminity. She wasn't the girliest of girls, but she was no tom-boy. However, she could match wits, jokes, stories, or brains with any of us. She, by conditioning, developed a fighting spirit, but she's not fighter. She developed a sharp, confident, and witty mind, but she's humble and unassuming.

One, because she was the only girl. She was one among five. One out of six.

Thus, One-Pink-Duck describes My sister Audrea Vann Medina.

what think you?