Dark Night or Advent Light

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The Second Day of Advent
Transplant Day Twenty-One
December 2, 2019

THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT

The Christmas spirit
is that hope
which tenaciously clings
to the hearts of the faithful
and announces
in the face of any Herod the world can produce
and all the inn doors slammed in our faces
and all the dark nights of our souls
that with God
all things still are possible,
that even now
unto us
a Child is born!

What could this beautiful poem titled The Christmas Spirit possibly have to do with my recent kidney transplant? At first glance, not much. But lingering on the poet’s words made some of them leap from the page for me. I have to admit that the words most piercing to me are these: “. . . all the dark nights of our souls.”

Guilt overwhelmed me after the transplant was complete. I was back in my room six hours after the surgery — barely awake, a little confused, exhausted, in pain and, they tell me, very quick-tempered. I yelled at my husband, something I may have done twice in 50 years of marriage. The truth is I was feeling covered with a blanket of guilt. The nurses, my surgeon, my family were all celebrating the transplant miracle. I was in pain, second-guessing my decision to even have the transplant in the first place and feeling guilty for not acknowledging the miracle everyone else saw.

For the next two days, every person on my transplant team who came to see me entered my room with a large smile and expressed one word, “Congratulations!” said with joy in a most celebratory voice. All the while, I was often weeping pain’s quiet tears. I stared at each congratulating person with a little bit of concealed contempt. In my mind, if not on my lips, was a response that went something like this: “Congratulations? Do you have any idea what kind of pain I am experienced right now? And have you had this surgery yourself? Save your congratulations for another day!”

The physical pain was very real and very intense. The soul pain hurt even deeper. Body and soul — the physical, spiritual and emotional — were so intricately fused together that it was all but impossible to isolate or separate them. Is this just physical pain? Is part of it emotional pain? Am I experiencing, heaven forbid, a spiritual crisis? I found no way to tell. For me, it was pain in all three parts of me and that made it almost intolerable.

For two nights, I did not sleep at all — awake all night, feeling alone, abandoned and in a wrestling match with my pain. As I went over and over in my mind all the reasons I had for getting a transplant, my thoughts morphed into a fairly clear “What have I done?”

It felt so much like a dark night of the soul as I grieved my aloneness and isolation, mourned the loss of my previous life and felt deep fear of the dark, unknown path ahead. And all of those points of crisis made me feel that guilt for not being grateful for the living gift of a kidney.

As Ann Weems’ expresses in the poem, “Hope tenaciously clings to the hearts of the faithful and announces in the face . . . of all the dark nights of our souls, that with God all things still are possible, that even now unto us a Child is born!”

Twenty-one days separated from my transplant, I am able to attest that hope does cling tenaciously in my heart, that hope announces in the face of the dark night of my soul that with God, all things are still possible. And most importantly, “Unto us a Child is born!”

Into me a Child is born, and that presence empowers me to walk through my soul’s darkest night into the light that Advent brings.

Thanks be to God.

    

Just Breathe!

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Transplant Day Fifteen
November 26, 2019

Today will be a better day it seems. Excruciating pain has lifted for the most part. Yet, I am still facing enormous challenges — getting control of my raging blood sugar readings, reducing the swelling that is very uncomfortable, dealing with frequent changes to my medication dosages that are so necessary to prevent my body from rejecting its new kidney, eating the right foods and NOT eating the things that are strictly forbidden, adhering to a stringent regimen of washing all food properly, lathering on hand sanitizer every time I possibly can, wearing sunscreen at all times and never, ever forgetting to wear my mask.

Fortunately, I am married to a caregiver who is the “spreadsheet king” and he has my every move on his spreadsheet, including times and dosages of about 20 medications taken every day — 38 pills, 6 liquids and 6 injections. Three to four times Every week, we have appointments at Mayo Cinic starting at 6:15 am and sometimes continuing into the afternoon. It is making us very tired and overwhelmed, exhausted. There is not one thing about our lives that has not changed.

So I would not be honest if I did not admit my worries, my obsessiveness, my overthinking, my fear, my vivid imagination about all that could go wrong and my wondering what will happen tomorrow, the next day, and all the days ahead.

It is the best advice, I think, to set my focus on two words — just breathe. Just breathe, and have faith that everything will work out for the best. And it won’t hurt to ponder and lean on the many promises of God’s care and grace. These are but a few:

Philippians 4:6-7
Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Hebrews 10:23
Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful.

Psalm 91:5-10
You will not fear the terror of the night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in darkness, nor the destruction that wastes at noonday. 

Isaiah 41:10
Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Proverbs 3:5
Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.

Jeremiah 29:11-14
For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you, declares the Lord, and I will restore your fortunes and gather you from all the nations and all the places where I have driven you, declares the Lord, and I will bring you back to the place from which I sent you into exile.

2 Corinthians 5:7
For we walk by faith, not by sight.

Psalm 34:4
I sought the Lord, and he answered me and delivered me from all my fears.

Joshua 1:9 
Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.

It can only harm me to be worried and anxious, frightened and overwhelmed, concerned about what the days ahead will look like. It seems to me that I should just breath, all the while leaning on the everlasting arms.

 

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On another note, please pray for me as I recover from my kidney transplant. I am so grateful that you are walking with me on this journey that often felt so frightening and is now a very difficult and stress-filled recovery time. Your thoughts and prayers mean so much. Your donations have helped us with the expense of staying in Jacksonville, near Mayo Clinic, for this month of post transplant care. If you can contribute or if you would like to read more of the story of my illness, please visit the Georgia Transplant Foundation’s website at this link:

://client.gatransplant.org/goto/KathyMFindley

A “Go Fund Me” page is also set up for contributions to help with the enormous costs related to the transplant, including medications, housing costs for the month we have to stay near the transplant center, uncovered medications and medical equipment, and other unforeseeable costs for my care following the transplant. If you can, please be a part of my transplant journey by making a contribution at this link

https://bit.ly/33KXZOj

 

 

 

An Ever Present Help on Troubled Days

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Transplant Day Six
November 18, 2019

Today Is a troubled day for me. I need to know God as “my ever present help in time of trouble” on this day of  kidney transplant aftercare that began early this morning. Being in the Mayo Clinic lab by 6:30 is not so gentle a way to treat a person with a huge, painful incision! On the way to Mayo Clinic, bumps and potholes in the road caused sharp pain. Walking the hallways at Mayo Clinic required far more energy than I currently have. I am weak and shaky, struggling with significant pain, and suffering from the side effects of very potent medications.

The medical visits will end around 2:00 pm today. We hoped to be able to rest until the next medical appointments on Wednesday. But the transplant doctors need to repeat my blood tests early tomorrow. They made some significant changes to my medications to try to address some concerns they have about my kidney function, excessive incision pain, blood sugar and fluid retention.

It occurred to me today, that in some ways, all of the inflexible after surgery care and the daunting medication regimen seems as if it is not at all about me; it’s about the kidney! It’s all about the kidney!

I can live with that if I can remember that God cares for me, for every part of me, and of course, for the new kidney. But my hope rests on the grace-giving God who also cares for the whole of me — what’s going on with me physically, emotionally and spiritually.

A comforting hymn text about God’s care has lifted me up into hope at various times in my life. “Day by Day, and with Each Passing Moment” was written by a young Swedish woman, Carolina Sandell Berg. Like the Psalmist, Berg learned early in life to trust in God’s strength to help her overcome times of suffering. She learned that when pain and tragedy strike, God may use that experience to deepen our faith.

When Carolina was 26-years old, she experienced a tragedy which profoundly affected her life. As she and her father crossed a Swedish lake, the ship suddenly lurched, and before her eyes, her father was thrown overboard and drowned. Like the Psalmist who gave us a strong affirmation with these words, “God is my refuge, an ever present help in time of trouble,” Carolina Berg found hope in God day by day. 

Although my present situation is very different from her tragedy, I am learning all over again about how hope and faith work for me. This is my paraphrase of Carolina Sandell Berg’s wonderful hymn:

Day by day and with each passing moment,
Strength I find to meet my trials here;
Trusting in God’s kind and wise bestowment,
I’ve no cause for worry or for fear.

God whose heart is kind beyond all measure
Gives unto each day what She deems best —
Lovingly, it’s part of pain and pleasure,
Mingling toil with peace and rest.

Every day the God of love is near me
With a special mercy for each hour;
All my cares God’s love will bear, and cheer me,
God whose name is Counselor and Power.

The protection of God’s child and treasure
Is a charge that on Herself She laid;
“As thy days, thy strength shall be in measure,”
This the pledge to me She made.

Help me then in every tribulation
So to trust Thy promises, O Lord,
That I lose not faith’s sweet consolation
Offered me within Thy holy Word.

Help me, Lord, when toil and trouble meeting,
Ever take, as from a mother’s hand,
One by one, the days, the moments fleeting,
‘Till I reach the promised land.

On days like this one when I feel weary and weak, when I experience pain and need an extra measure of compassionate care, I know I can look to God who is “my ever present help in time of trouble.” And I know that God, who is both father and mother to me, will walk beside me day by day, every day, through every passing moment.

 

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On another note, please pray for me as I recover from my kidney transplant at Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville, Florida. I am so grateful that you are walking with me on this journey that often felt so frightening and is now a very difficult recovery. Your thoughts and prayers mean so much. Your donations through the Georgia Transplant Foundation have helped us get very close to our goal. The Foundation will match donations dollar for dollar up to $10,000, and you have already helped us raise $9,015. If you are able, please help us get to the $10,000 matched amount. We are almost there. If you can contribute or if you would like to read more of the story of my illness, please visit the Georgia Transplant Foundation’s website at this link:

://client.gatransplant.org/goto/KathyMFindley

“Go Fund Me” page is also set up for contributions to help with the enormous costs related to the transplant, including medications, housing costs for the month we have to stay near the transplant center, uncovered medications and medical equipment, and other unforeseeable costs for my care following the transplant. If you can, please be a part of my transplant journey by making a contribution at this link

https://bit.ly/33KXZOj

A Life Milestone

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I’m pretty sure it’s not cool to get emotional about having a medical evaluation. But I did. I passed a life milestone yesterday when I completed my week long medical evaluation at Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville, Florida. Getting to an actual kidney transplant is a long journey, five years, ten years, people wait even longer.

I arrived exhausted and holding on to a fair amount of cynicism, barely able to believe that I might actually get a kidney transplant some day. As is my custom, I have trusted God along the way for the best outcome for me, most of the time. But five years of dialysis — every single day for eight hours a day — can wear down one’s hope. Five years of waiting on a transplant list with thousands of other waiters can test one’s faith. 

About a month ago, I had a very bad experience with my first transplant center. It took me to a very low place of feeling that I had been devalued by the caregivers who had known me for almost four years. I was on the transplant list, but there was virtually no communication with me during those years. And just as we were about to turn a corner with a transplant actually in view, they abruptly took me off of the active transplant list. It became very clear that the process with this particular transplant center would probably not lead to a transplant for me anytime soon. I was emotionally devastated, but more importantly, I no longer felt comfortable placing my life in their hands. So I gathered up all my emotional baggage and took it with me to Mayo Clinic. I did not expect what happened to me there. 

We turned in to the Mayo campus on a road framed with lush, spreading trees. Palm trees were interspersed among the large trees and plants covered the ground. The landscape was made even more beautiful by a large pond with a fountain sending water into the air. It reminded me of the Living Water that quenches our thirst forever. I looked up and saw the words, “Mayo Clinic” and suddenly felt a sense of being home, of being in a place with people who would care for me. A silent tear slid down my face and I felt very full, the lump in my throat extending into my chest.

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The week was full of appointments and medical tests, beginning with the transplant nephrologist, Dr. Mai, who is one of the most compassionate and personable physicians I have ever met. He took a complete history, examined me thoroughly and answered ever question we had. 

 

I must say that every single employee at Mayo Clinic was professional, pleasant and kind. It was an atmosphere of caring and compassion. It was a busy place that never felt rushed. They pulled off a “medical miracle” of a sorts, scheduling about thirty appointments for me and never being off schedule for even one of them. 0DDE1816-F2F2-491F-9AFA-ADD27234EEA7

There are places throughout the buildings to stop and rest, many of them filled with the sounds of soothing classical music. It is a place that values art, which you will find in every nook and cranny. And then there is the atrium for meditation, a space closed off from the rest of the clinic. When you enter, a large flowing fountain makes the only sound you will hear. In that silent place, the lighting is dimmed and there are comfortable places to sit. A beautiful altar-like table draws your focus.

After the full week of tests, scans, blood draws and consultations, we were back with Dr. Mai who patiently explained every test result. He was encouraging about the kidney transplant and said more than once that I needed a transplant as soon as possible. “But what do I know?” he said. “I’m just a regular doctor. The surgeon is the one who will tell us if a transplant is possible.”E9B0C9D8-E46A-40EA-A66E-B0117A8E3D14

Then we moved to our very last appointment with the transplant surgeon, the one who would hold my fate in her hands. I feared this last appointment and worried about it throughout the week. The surgeon would have the last word. 

How delighted we were to meet Dr. Perry, a rather young woman who obviously knew her craft. She looked over all the scans and examined the potential site of the incision. After a lengthy Q & A, she sent us on our way. She had the final word, the last words of the week. “Let’s get you a kidney!” she said enthusiastically, and all the hope I thought I had lost rose up inside me. AE0AB32B-2F0E-4485-9F88-D2EC33057A80

When we drove away, I felt incredibly sad to be leaving that caring place. The lump in my throat came back and I was filled with gratitude, confident that God had chosen Mayo Clinic to help me take back my life.34233289-31E0-49AE-9D02-0D6B98DC5AD7

Tired

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I’m tired. Down deep bone tired. Not because I trimmed bushes in the hot sun today. Not because I spent two hours in my doctor’s office today. I’m tired for no obvious reason. Or maybe for the most obvious reason. Maybe I’m tired of trying and persevering and persisting like we women are expected to do, if we’re strong enough.

It doesn’t matter, really, what I persist in doing. It doesn’t really matter what cause it is that is worth my perseverance. Whatever it is — whatever goal or outcome — it has made me tired and depleted my strength. When I try to describe the feeling, I am almost at a loss for descriptors that adequately express the reality I’m experiencing. 

Drained. Exhausted. Spent. Worn down. Frazzled. Weary. 

I’m not quite sure which words to choose and it really doesn’t matter. What does matter is finding ways of replenishing. My doctor suggested meditative visualization. Like visualizing myself as active, moving and full of energy. I actually think visualization is a good tool and a way to open up the emotional doors that will allow me to recharge my life. I’ll try it.

But I have another tool as well. I will meditate on a promise God made many centuries ago. I will hold on to the assurance that “God gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.” (Isaiah 40:30)

From there, I still need to go somewhere to rest, so I go to a place I know — a safe, refreshing resting place where I have rested before. I find that place in the words of the Prophet Isaiah. 

They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall mount up with wings as eagles. They shall run and not be weary. They shall walk and not faint. 

— Isaiah 40:31