I sent a text to Amy yesterday that said, “It can stop raining…”
I was metaphorically speaking in reference to the comment I’ve heard from just about everyone who knows our situation right now: “When it rains it pours.”
Yes, yes it does.
My dad’s sick. It’s not a secret anymore because basically anyone who sees him KNOWS something’s not right. While I’m on this topic, let me be perfectly clear about what exactly is going on. My dad is sick with liver disease, but it IS NOT, I repeat, NOT cirrhosis (especially not cirrhosis as most of us know it). It is PSC, or Primary Sclerosing Cholangitis. Yeah, say that 5 times fast. It’s a long story how we got here, and it’s not a good thing on top of everything else he’s been through, and the toughest truth is that the only real treatment for it is transplant. So October 14 begins the likely arduous process of evaluation for transplant and all that comes with it. All I can say about that is THIS IS HARD and please pray.
We’re moving. This first and foremost requires a giant HALLELUJAH before anything else is even mentioned, so HALLELUJAH! However, moving is hard and this is the first time I’ve done it with a baby – one who has learned to climb stairs at lightning speed and can unpack a box like a CHAMP – so it’s a bit challenging. When we first went under contract with the sale of our house mid-August, everything stated that it would be an extended closing at the buyer’s request. Well, with some developments and changes in schedules, etc., closing dates began to be moved up a little at a time and suddenly we were signing an addendum that stated we would close by Oct. 4 – two weeks prior to what was formerly discussed. Ok, a little more stress, but still manageable. Then…
I’m having surgery. I’ll be bidding farewell to the ‘ole gall bladder after it almost tried to kill me on the last day of our trip to the mountains two weeks ago and threatens to do so just about every day since. So after some tests and confirmed “active” gallstones, surgery was recommended “sooner than later.” Sure. Why not. Let’s work in those dates among packing, moving, and closing and the outcome is that we move in 4 days. FOUR DAYS. I’ll have about 3 days to “settle in” to our new digs before surgery and then I’m pretty sure I won’t care what happens for about a week after that, so bring it on.
There are a host of other small ‘issues’ like mom and dad’s air conditioning going out and Michael’s infallible work schedule to name a couple, but in the big scheme of things, they’re not surgery. Because that would be absurd.
Probably no surprise, but it’s been a bit of a struggle to manage a “healthy” attitude in all of this – in fact, daily, sometimes MULTIPLE times daily, I have to remind myself the joy that has come with ALL of this and the unbelievable amount of blessings that have gotten us to this point. And when I say unbelievable, I mean it in every sense of the word. It’s been incredible to watch things fall into place like getting in with my preferred surgeon before he goes on vacation, being able to move in to our house early – the list is long. It’s overwhelmingly humbling. And it’s those small things that when a cranky baby or feeling like dirt prevent me from packing and threaten the joy that is this season, I cling to those blessings like a hawk and believe that He’s going to make a way, even if it’s just to get through the day.
So since I refuse for this to be an “oh, woe is me” post and while I tread lightly on the “bring it on” theory, I am going to claim the joy that is being given to us and take the bad with the good. And ask that you’ll remember us in your prayers if you get a chance.