Wednesday, January 9, 2008

Zip it Chiari!

The journey has led to into a storm; a twister if you may. Someone once explained a tornado to me as a storm that has turned in on itself. Sometimes I feel my body is it’s own form of this violent weather.

The vast bubble of fluid resting outside of my scull disappeared overnight after a someone-please-kill-me-migraine. Yes, I am sure everyone can relate to one of those at some point in their life. The headache which actually leads you to think that forcibly removing that part of your scull with a hammer, or other useful devise, might actually improve the situation.

The next morning I wake up with a hangover-like feeling, and a normal feeling scull. I thought perhaps I was drinking the night before and perhaps was still drunk, imagining this. On the second day, I was rejoicing that indeed no alcohol was involved!
My head was normal….although I did go to bed with a pretty nasty headache.
Then on the third day, my brain swallowed my scull….again, if you remember earlier posts regarding this matter.
It feels almost like a piece is missing or sucked in behind that plate of titanium, which didn’t set off the airline alarms by the way on my way back from Phoenix. What is up with airline security? That bothered me. However, not being patted down, now that was priceless.
Anyhow, I asked the surgeon about it and we postponed the shunt to wait and see what is going on. He saw this as a “oh wow, perhaps you might not need the shunt”; where I saw it as “Oh crap, you have no idea what is wrong with me!”
Perspective is everything.
I panicked, and when I say panic I don’t mean got a little nervous. I mean snot-nosed sobbing, and freaking out type of ordeal which usually can only be controlled by God’s grace or Xanax.
I was focused on the storm and felt myself sinking. I let myself sink to the point where I even questioned my place in ministry. How could God use me when my brain is on a manifest gusto, sneaking down my spine and devouring my scull? I felt useless, and incapable in an instant.
Not being in the know, and more importantly, the experts not being in the know, really brought me to my knees.
And that’s not a bad place to go. I think getting weak in the knees only puts us in the right position where we should have been in the first place.
Putting my focus back on Christ, the storm began to fade. And I realized, or should I say remembered, it’s not about me.
Again perspective is everything.
Now I find myself in an awesome territory called peace, located directly in the eye of the storm.
I know this concave scull thing can’t be good…but we don’t have answers today. SO, why worry about what I can not control?!
The doctors are checking into it, and hopefully will come back with answers.
In the meantime, I say Zip it Chiari! I am not sitting down until the captain flashes the “fasten your seatbelt” sign.
We will figure this out in the proverbial tomorrow…For now, I am moving forward, while comfortably resting in today.
Peace,
Q

1 comments:

lzwitty said...

I, too, have a big dip in the back of my head (fusion/decompression on 8/29/07.) It's like I have two horn-like bumps ^__^ around an indentation. The bumps stay sore and it hurts to lay flat on a pillow. Is this similar to what the back of your head is like? I go back to TCI in four weeks and am anxious to hear what they say; I'd also love to hear if what you're experiencing is similar.

Also, the post on your sister's experience was beautiful. What a testimony she has. I can tell you're definitely a writer, too!

Leslie