Cravings.

our "valentines" (feb 3, before my first surgery): we both had a dessert :-)

My wife and I are completely different in one major way:  my wife could live without sugar altogether...and I crave it.  After I lost weight,  my wife noticed something about me.  One night my eyes became as wide as saucers when I saw a dessert and she said, "You really are a fat kid inside, huh?"

It is true.  I grew up with desserts all around me and I LOVE THEM.  If you've ever had my mother's pies, you understand.

I've been acting pretty good the past week or so, but the other night I was craving a dessert.  I dutifully called my wife and asked her if she'd like me to pick up something for her, too...I already knew the answer: "No." She is so good.  Well, I went out to the nearby Fresh Market and looked at the desserts.  I went there because I knew I could get just one single cupcake, and, from experience, I knew that the calories would be worth it at that bakery.

But, when I got home I didn't just have just a single cupcake in my bag.  I had a whole Apple Brown Betty Pie and vanilla bean ice cream.  Who am I?  I'm a monster!

But, you know, I think it isn't just about sugar.  For us who are "fat kids," I have to suggest, that, in part, it is about memory.  I can almost taste the snickers bar when I am in the check-out line.  I could taste the deep vanilla of the ice cream as I picked it up off the shelf.  Worse, when I go home, the memories of my mother's cooking is intoxicating: whether it is something universally delicious like Blackberry pie or beef stew or something like depression-era mackeral patties.  It isn't the culinary genius as much as the memory of that food from my time growing up that makes it so amazing (but, mom, you are also a culinary genius).

church folks, can you almost taste it?

Memories are powerful things.  On Sunday, at my church, we celebrated Holy Communion.  For Christians, the taste of the bread and juice/wine are meant to draw on memory the same way as my mother's cooking did.  For adults who grew up in the church the taste of bread and juice (wine) takes them back to memories of childhood in the church.  For the early Christians it must have been a powerful reminder of a time when Christ was in their midst doing incredible acts.  For all Christians of all times it connects us to the people who have come before us.  It is a very real connection to them.  It also reminds us of all the people who will come behind us in our living tradition.  Perhaps just as importantly: because there are churches around the world in every time zone that celebrate Communion / Eucharist daily, there are Christians constantly communing with one another and with Christ!  Communion is a very real sign that we are connected to one another and Christ no matter our distance through time and space.  It is amazing, really.

What A Week!

The beautiful stained glass at my new church in Normal.

This past week has been an incredible journey and I want to thank all of the people of Pontiac and Normal who have made this such a positive and faith-filled transition!

The people of Pontiac shared with me during a farewell reception and the thoughtful cards, gifts, and well-wishing touched me and ensured that we left Pontiac feeling cared-for!  Meanwhile, the people of Normal have welcomed us with graciousness that we could not have expected.  For instance, two members of the Staff-Parish relations committee (my liaisons with the congregation) showed up on move-in day with a large laundry basket filled with house-warming gifts:  things we would need as we started unpacking.  They also presented us with gift cards for Steak-N-Shake and Avanti's.  How thoughtful!  The Avanti's card paid for our pizza that night, because we had no dishes unpacked nor energy for cooking!

Fast forward to this past weekend.  I had a funeral on Saturday morning and preached at a worship service on Saturday night and two worship services on Sunday morning.  I made it though the weekend in pretty good shape, but had a moment during the 9 am worship service communion when fatigue hit me.  I had to hold on to the wall and rail to finish, but once I sat down and got to rest, I was fine again.

There are moments like that which remind me that I'm still recovering from surgeries, but, mostly, I don't feel any different than before my medical problems began.  I just have to watch for my moments of stress, weakness or fatigue and know when to slow down or rest...

Mostly, this week has been a joy.  I feel as though I have experienced love from one congregation and great hospitality and welcome from another.  Who could ask for more than that?

blessings to you,

Moving In, Heading Out!

Today I finished setting up the basement / library / office / man cave.  Well, whatever you want to call it, it is the one space in the house that I get to make mine...

That makes three rooms that we've opened all the boxes and moved completely in.  Yes, we have a long way to go, but we finally feel like we've made progress!  Living Room, check.  Family Room, check.  Library, check.  Luckily June (my mother-in-law) has returned to help Carrie finish the move-in process because I'm heading out to a busy week.  

Before brain surgery I didn't think much about busy weeks and weekends, but after surgery it is a whole different story!  Moving into the house wouldn't have been a big deal before surgery, but post-op it felt monumental.  I am leading all three worship services for the first time since my brain surgery...for my last (Farewell) Sunday at the Pontiac church.  My last Sunday in a church would be an exhausting task anyway, but after brain surgery it feels daunting to lead worship, preaching, and greet and talk with people.  Oh, and lest I forget, I volunteered for church camp and leave Sunday afternoon for a full week of being a chaplain.  It will be a recharge and help me get back into the swing of being an active pastor...but holy cow it's going to wear me out.

Don't get me wrong.  I'm excited for each and every thing that I'm doing.  This is stuff I love to do!  Oh- and I have plans for resting and taking care of myself, but surgery has sure changed the way I look at my days and weeks.  Every room I unpack, sermon I preach, and kid I hang out with at camp feels like a huge accomplishment (and makes me happy).

It's getting late and before too many sighs go up into cyberspace, I'll sign off and go to bed.

Parents, ugh!

Parents are wonderful.  Okay.  I know, I know, if you are a teenager it may not seem like it, right?  I remember that feeling.  As a teen, it is terrible when your parents show up...or don't show up...look at you wrong...or don't...or, well, when they speak.  Ugh, how could they be so weird and goofy?

If you are a teenager, am I on the right track?

Let me tell you, at 32 years old I have a different take.  Now, don't get me wrong, I don't always have a great relationship with my parents.  Sometimes they get on my nerves and sometimes I get on their last nerve, but, especially this week, I'm SOOO glad they are coming to help me.

First, let me tell you what next week is going to bring for my wife and me.  I have some work and then early in the week we have to go pick up a whole trailer full of stuff in St. Louis and move it to Normal.  Then, on Thursday the movers come (so the house has to be packed and cleaned), We move in and have a half day to unpack and then I have to leave for a wedding rehearsal (fri) and wedding (sat) that I am co-officiating in Pittsfield... then I have to be back Saturday night so I can be rested for my Farewell Sunday at Pontiac... and then Sunday afternoon I start as a chaplain for church camp at East Bay in Hudson, IL.

So I'm thrilled that my mother-in-law is here right now cleaning and helping us pack; my mother and father are coming next week to help us move and then my mother-in-law will be back to stay with carrie and help her pack while I'm at the wedding and camp.

When I was younger I was embarrassed and stressed out by my parents (I still have my moments :-), but as an adult I see blessings in their presence.  It turned out that having parents was actually an asset, who would've known?  I am so glad for my parents and my in-laws and all that they do for Carrie and me.  Whether you are young or old, I hope you will, this week, take a moment to think of how your parents are a blessing for your life.  If you are a teenager it may not be easy at first, but there are things your parents do that make your life better, I imagine.  Think really hard about it and you may see that they are a blessing for you!

Title image found at:  http://conflictremedy.com/finding-new-solutions-for-parent-teen-conflict/

Weight Watchers Saved My Life!

Lately I've had a whole lot of people comment on my weight.  Either they say something like, "Oh you've put on some weight, you look much better," or something like, "oh, you look too thin (or sick)."  Now, I know that it is all amplified because folks know I had a brain tumor: so I don't take it personally...but it has me worried!

I think it reveals a larger problem in society, especially the rural, midwestern culture here in Livingston County (Illinois). Our American Society is, quite simply, obese.  I was overweight until not long ago and now that I'm at the top end of my healthy weight range, everyone thinks I am sickly.  I still have flab, I'm still not fit and toned...yet everyone thinks I am now unhealthy!  Let me say it one more time:  I'm not even at the low side of my healthy weight range and everyone around me seems to be freaking out, why?  Because so many who are around us in rural midwestern America are overweight.  Overweight has become the standard, quite simply.

I'm not coming down on obesity because of how people act, by the way (I'm not calling people lazy), nor am I even upset because of how people look (It's really not about vanity).  I'm honestly concerned for my health, my family's health and for the people around us.  Being overweight is a serious problem which leads to all kinds of health problems such as diabetes and heart disease, for example.  And weight gain, beyond one's healthy weight range, is an indicator that one's diet and exercise are out of whack and that things are not well with your body!  (When you are gaining weight your body is trying to communicate with you)

Well, back to me.  Last week someone cornered me and shared their concern about my weight and I responded that Weight Watchers (my weight loss) saved my life.  It did, by the way!  I told them the story of how my spinal fluid leaked into my bed after my second surgery.  I told them about how the surgeon shared with Carrie that I would have died that night had I been any heavier or older.  I told them that losing 35 pounds and getting into my healthy weight range was not just to look better (vanity), it actually saved my life.  Now, I've responded this way with several people, but the reason this one interaction stands out in my mind is because the person responded to my story: first, by saying, "Oh my." and then saying, "what do you mean about a healthy weight range?"

They were serious.  They had no idea that based on sex and weight there are guidelines to help people find a healthy weight!  Today I want to begin correcting this view.  More importantly, I want to become more vocal about our need, especially in rural communities, to work against obesity and grow in health.  I want to do this work not to be critical of people or to be hurtful, but because I want to help.  There are many people suffering from the plight of obesity (or at least being overweight) and I would be remiss if I didn't share my own experiences and work to help them.  At my heaviest several years ago I was 225 and I hit my goal weight of 165 pounds a few weeks ago (when I arrived in Pontiac two years ago I was about 200).  I'm a 6' male and my healthy weight range is 147-184 according to Weight Watchers.  I got to where I am by eating more vegetables and fruits and cutting down my oil and carbohydrates, I got to where I am by eating well (not being hungry), and I got to where I am by adding some basic exercise to my routine which not only helped me feel better and lose weight, but also helped me to have more complete and enjoyable days.

I hope you will join me as I continue working to be more healthy.  Don't do it for me, do it for you!

Also, if you'd like to find you're body mass index (figure out how you are doing), click here!

Get started with a new and accurate bathroom scale:

Getting Back To It

I've begun to feel much more like myself, but I forget that no one outside of my living room knows that, at least on most days!

Well, as you all know from my other blog posts, I got through the second surgery (which fixed complications from my original brain surgery). All was going well, last I posted about my health. Since then life has been pretty boring, really. I sit in my recliner and test gravity, I pack boxes for our move to Normal, IL, or I am on a walk with my wife.

If the part about me packing boxes is concerning, it shouldn't be. I pack them and I direct Carrie about where to stack them. It's a weird position to be in. I go to the grocery store and I have to ask for a bagboy to help me to my car. I'm 32 years old and look as though I'm an able-bodied man...you should see the looks I get from the County Market somedays.

It is really great, though, to be off all the pain medications and driving again!!! It allows me to get out of the house and that doesn't seem so important until you can't do it. I know I've talked about this is the past (after my first surgery), but getting to drive felt like a huge milestone. I didn't need to go anywhere, in fact, I didn't really have anywhere to go...but I could go if I wanted to. That felt great, somehow.

That brings me to today. I got to go to my church today. Not only did I get to go to church, but I was invited to preach the 8:15 am worship service since it was confirmation Sunday and I led that program. I was nervous to try to preach, but I felt good the whole time. I'm back to myself and I know now that I'm capable of getting back to work.

My District Superintendent and the directing pastor at my church decided, when I went into the emergency room with the Spinal fluid leak that it wouldn't make sense for me to go back to work for just a few weeks. It really could be more disruptive than helpful to be back full time for such a short time, especially when Rev. Ray is finding his groove as a solo pastor... So, I will be on medical leave until the end of June and start back to work as a pastor full-time when I arrive at First United Methodist Church of Normal.

Now, I haven't left the church and because I'm feeling better and better everyday I'm not just going to be sitting around next month. After talking with Rev. Ray, I've decided that the month of June will be a time of visiting in the nursing home and spending time saying farewell.

Title Photo Courtesy of Marci Hunt

Joy in Ritual?

My wife and I divide up many of the household chores and share responsibilities, normally, but since my first surgery on February sixth I have been very limited in what I can do. Over the last few months I have not had to put dishes in the dishwasher, do laundry, mow the yard...well, actually, I haven't had to do anything but sit in a chair and take occasional walks! My normal routines and practices have been interrupted and the longer I go without doing them, the more difficult it is for me to start again.

Yesterday I finally unloaded, loaded and unloaded, again, the dishwasher. This was the first time I've done any sort of chore for quite some time. The really embarrassing thing is that it isn't even a real chore. I mean, if I'd washed dishes in the sink that might be a real chore, but I just rinsed some dishes off and set them in a machine. Yet, this insignificant task seemed horrendous. I put it off all morning until I knew Carrie would be returning from work, and, finally, when I was at the eleventh hour, I went about a task that, in that moment, felt tedious and painfully slow.

How is it that a task could become so difficult when it is a routine I've done a million times and never felt particularly burdened (that I can remember). Well...now, to be fair I need to think back to when I first moved out on my own and had dishes to do (and no dishwasher). The dishes often mounted up and it often came down to eating on paper products before I would get around to washing dishes (I was a terrible bachelor).

Perhaps it is in the routine that tasks and ways-of-living become familiar and do-able. Perhaps, in forming a routine, we make a task more personal and intimate and, in doing so, make it tolerable, if not pleasurable.

The first time we make a bed or pick up clothes or change a diaper or run a vacuum... the list is infinite.... The first time or the first few times we do something we are bound to find it more difficult, but the more often we do it, the more it becomes part of our life-ritual, the more easy and familiar it becomes. One of the best examples is exercise, I think. It was easy to motivate myself to go to the gym the first time, but the next few times it was terribly difficult. I got home from work and I already felt exhausted. The last thing I wanted to do was walk over to the gym and wear myself down further, yet, once I got through a week or so of going to the gym, it became a highlight. It wasn't until it became a ritual that I could enjoy it and I began to look forward to it!

In our lives of faith we have the same issue. If you are a church, synagogue or mosque-goer, then you may recognize this. If you skip worship one week, it is easier to miss it the next, and getting back to your faith practice becomes harder and harder. Prayer is the same way. Perhaps that is why muslims pray so often and methodically. By praying seven times each day they have built prayer into their life-ritual. The prayer becomes both familiar and easy, in a way.

For many, dare I say most, Christians it is more difficult to pray. We don't have the ritual. Maybe we've developed a practice of saying a prayer before a meal or at bedtime, but do we interrupt our day for prayer or does our day follow our prayer cycle? I'd wager for most Christians it is the former!

I think practice is important in all that we do, if we want balanced and healthy lives. During my most recent stay in the hospital, I was feeling very sore in bed. I mentioned it to my physical therapist. She got me out of bed and tried to move my legs, but they couldn't move more than a few degrees without pain. My muscles were tight from lying in bed all day everyday for so long! My legs were used to walking and bending and running. They were used to a certain practice, but they were out of practice. If any of you have gone to the gym, biked, or run further than you are used to, then you know what I mean. You've had the opposite experience as I: you went beyond your usual practice or ritual.

In life we need balance. If we want to start a new faith practice it is important to do so in a measured and responsible way. We should begin praying, reading the bible, or worshipping in a way that is tenable (sustainable). If you've not had a regular prayer life, then starting 20 times a day is likely not sustainable as a new practice, but finding one or two times during your day (or even 7?) might be. Finding 10 minutes each morning or evening to read the Bible is more likely to be sustainable, for most people, than trying to read a chapter everyday.

On the other hand, if we drop our habit, even for a day, we risk atrophy. In any of your life-practices, this is good advice I would wager. If you are a person of faith, I especially commend to you that you heed this advice and develop healthy practices. It maybe difficult, at first, but it will grow you, strengthen you, and help you in all of your other facets of life.

Images found at:  http://allwomenstalk.com/ & http://www.thegospelmatters.com/, respectively.

Scars

In the photo above you can see my incision that it is now beginning to heal. The trauma of getting that scar, twice, now, was extreme and, as you have read in this blog, I have many memories, both traumatic and good, from my time in recovery (both at the hospital and, now, at the Berry's home). It's crazy how this scar can be fading so quickly when the experience still feels so fresh.

I feel the scar and the people around me see it. It is a constant reminder of these complicated memories. Yet as the physical wound heals, fewer people now say, "oh my, what happened," or, "how did u get that scar?". The physical scar is less noticeable and far less commented on, yet my wife and I (& other family members) will always carry the emotional scars. My wife will always see the scar, whether actually visible or not, when she sees the back of my head.  For my part, I will always feel the scar.  Fortunately, we have a God who understands the memory that lives in scars.

We talk about Christ being on the cross, but that experience came with significant scars. Hanging on the cross, from the outside, seems like a wholly terrible experience, but that terrible moment was proceeded by a life that brought many blessings. The scars of Christ were not just a negative memory, but a reminder of the loving acts committed by Christ, as well. The scars of Christ are reminders of the good that came out of a bad situation.

I think that all of us are confronted by scars sometimes. We all find troubles that leave marks on us whether physical marks or emotional. It is up to us whether we will dwell on the passing negative experience or whether we will find good in the midst of angst and trouble. Christ endured the bad that we would all know the good (His Love). When we experience trouble we must look to Christ, so that through Christ's wounds, we can experience joy even in the midst of our own pain, our own wounds, our own scars.

Health Checks

Me in the hospital in February 2012 after first neurosurgery.

I suppose everyone has a different experience of the hospital than I do / did, but for me a shift happens at some point during hospitalization. When I was admitted this last time, I was miserable. After surgery, I was hurting really bad. During my first days in a hospital I usually feel as though I need to be there. With this last ER visit and hospitalization, I could only find relief at the hospital and couldn't imagine going home. As time goes by, though, I begin to feel better and there is finally time when I realize I can go home. A shift happens where my need for the hospital is outweighed by a need to go home.


This time I had so many 'incidents' that made me feel bad (like the spinal fluid leaking or migraines) that I didn't realize how much better I was getting overall! On Saturday the doctor came in and said they were ready to discharge me when I was ready to go. I was shocked. At first I said, "no way." I mean, I had just had a migraine that morning, but, then, I realized that my pain meds were being reduced, anyway, and there is really very little they can do for the migraines anyway. There was nothing I was getting at the hospital that I couldn't do at home. It was an odd moment for me and I looked up at the doctor and said, "You know, it seems like it is time to go home after all." I only wanted to clarify our at home plan for remaining comfortable and healthy.

At my in-law's home recovering after my first neurosurgery in Feb. 2012

Sometimes it is difficult to recognize our place and what is healthy for us. Whether it is our marriage, a house, a church or organization, or group of friends we can sometimes forget to consider our own health and happiness. I think, especially in marriage, we get comfortable and stop talking to our spouses about healthiness in our relationship(s). Just like in my hospital stay where I constantly evaluated my health and situation with my wife, the nurses & doctors, and with myself; our marriages and other relationships constantly need to have healthy communication and evaluation otherwise we lose track of our health. We wake up one day and realize that we no longer have a healthy reason to stay.


To stay healthy, we can't just talk about the 'nice' things...In the hospital it isn't easy, at first, to talk about bowel movements or have someone you don't know help you with a shower; but these difficult conversations are just as important as the easy ones. In marriage, especially, it is easy to just say the "I Love You's" and forget to talk about the difficult things. Carrie and I try to talk about the difficult things as much as the easy stuff. It sometimes means that we fight. It sometimes means that we get angry or hurt, but, in the end, it always means that we grow in our relationship, know one another more, and have a more solid foundation for the future.


We have to keep an eye on our relationships and we have to constantly evaluate where we are in those relationships and their healthiness.

Scott's Shout-Out!

Scott shares a message with family and friends. Click here or 

the "youtube" icon in the bottom right of video to

view fullscreen or see the rest of Scott's videos.

Thursday Night: Near-Death

This is the dressing and where the lumbar drain enters my spine.
You can also see a white (and red) safety valve just below my waist.

Before I tell this story I want to catch-up anyone who hasn’t been reading along in this blog.  At this point I had a lumbar drain in my back so that they could keep the pressure from building in my brain.  They were draining off 10 mL of spinal fluid every hour, but this is dangerous.  If something happens that too much fluid drains I could get sick, have migraines or die, if I lost too much.  Also, as you read in the last post, infection is a very big concern when they keep a hole open in your spine, so I have been nervous ever since my surgery.  My nightmare night-after-night had been that the nurse had left my drain open or it had come loose and I was dying!

Alright, so now with the story:

On Thursday evening my wife went for dinner with her sister and I was sitting in bed with my iPad and decided to check facebook, twitter, email, etc.  Since I was having some trouble with diarrhea because of the antibiotics and the many laxatives they had me on (to combat the pain meds) I asked the nurse to put an absorbent pad back on my bed.

Now, if you are laughing at me a little you have to understand that, at this point, I have two sets of monitors hooked to me, sequentials on my legs, a very important tube connecting my lumbar drain in my back to that machine, and, often, an IV.  Also, I’m a fall risk so I’m not supposed to move without someone helping me...and it sometimes takes a few minutes before anyone answers my call button (let alone how long it takes them to unhook me and get me to the bathroom).  So having bathroom troubles isn’t an easy thing.  It was very likely that I was going to leave a pretty big mess.

Back to my original story:  The nurse put a pad on my bed, but I’m tall and it wasn’t positioned quite right, so I remember sitting in bed and scooting about (the nurse supervised) and I pulled the pad up under me.  I worry that I might have unintentionally and unknowingly pulled something loose at that point, but we’ll never know.  The nurse left and would come back later with my meds.  I remained in the same position checking facebook on my iPad.  When the nurse came back with meds about 30 or 45 minutes later I was having a queasy stomach and felt a migraine coming on.  It should have hit me then that something was amiss.  I told my nurse that I had an unset stomach and a migraine coming on.  My nurse left and later, I’m not sure how much later it was, (I was having a major migraine by then) I felt something wet behind me.  I put down my hand into a bed full of spinal fluid.  It still took a moment for me to realize what was happening.  I looked down to see what had spilled and couldn’t find the tube for my lumbar drain.  Once it hit me, I was utterly terrified by what I was experiencing.

I pressed the call button immediately and tried to turn up on my side the way I had lay the other night when he re-did my dressing.  Luckily the unit secretary answered the call right away and I called out that my spinal fluid was leaking out.  I don’t know how she made sense of what I was saying, nor do I know how my nurse, Sean, made it to my bedside so quickly, but it was his quick thinking and steady hands that were able to pull the bandage away and find a tube to clamp off.

The nurse came back and told me he had paged the surgeon and he waited, pacing (and freaking out a little), with me in the fetal position and blanket over my head (trying to keep dark because of the migraine I was suffering).  There were many nurses and others (interns?) in my room by now.  I could reach my phone so I called carrie to tell her that she should come right away.  I lay there and finally worked up the courage to ask the question I needed so badly to ask, “If I lost too much spinal fluid to survive, would we know it already or will we find out later?”  One of the nurses replied, “I don’t know, we need to wait for the doctor.  The surgeon arrived and explained that to help alleviate my migraine I need only to be laid out flat.  The migraine subsided a bit as he raised the bed to table height.  I told him I’d just had work done on the dressing the night before and he responded that he was the one who had done it.  I told him, “Then, doctor, you have seen my ass two times more than I would like!”  (Which did illicit laughter from him and the rest of the room)

He said that I am young and healthy and since I was still alive and conscious I would likely be alright.  He later told Carrie that if I were elderly or obese or otherwise in poor health I would have likely died from loosing so much spinal fluid.

So, as be began to work on me, my wife arrives on the floor.  I know this because I could hear her voice raising as she tried to get past the nurses.  To Carrie’s chagrin the room was already sterilized and they would not let her in.

I laughed a little and told the surgeon to watch out.  I explained that Carrie, if she feels I was in danger and he was keeping her away from me...I explained that she would probably let him have it.  After a moment of silence I said, "but don't worry, I'll remind her that you and this nurse just saved the life of the man she loves."

As Carrie continued to try to get in, the surgeon leans over and says to me, “That is true love.  We have a hospital full of people who don’t have visitors, but you have someone fighting to be with you and to advocate for you.”

Had I been older or in worse shape, had I not realized the fluid was leaking out, had my nurse not been so quick...had the night not gone just as it did, I might not have survived that night.  The recurring nightmare I’d been having all week came true, but because of an excellent nurse and just a short time later an excellent surgeon, I was put back together and my wife and I were able to see one another again.  By the time the surgeon finished it was well after 1:00am.  Carrie, again, stayed the night.  I mean, it really wasn’t a choice, at that point.  I don’t think anything could have moved Carrie out of that room that night.

The Surgery Explained!

I try to carefully explain Scott's second surgery to fix his "pseudomengingocele."

Wednesday Misery

This is actually from Monday before when Dr. Beaumont
pulled that fluid out of my head with syringes. (before my second surgery)

After the surgery on Tuesday I was in the ICU.  Things were progressing pretty well, there, so they moved me on Wednesday (morning?) to the otherside of the 10th floor which is a “step-down” unit.  I’m still hooked up to the telemetry monitor (wireless), but also a room monitor and they still keep a closer eye on us there, but its a shared room with doors, like the rest of the hospital.

When I got to the new room, I had a seemingly very nice and quiet roommate.  Also, I was feeling pretty good...but then the migraines started.  Oh Lord, the migraines!  Here I was in a room with machines beeping and squawking every 5 minutes (one of my monitors was clearly not working right).  In a room with doctors, nurses, and techs barging in and out, not just to care for me, but also for my roommate.  It was not really anyone’s fault, but I was hurting, not just because of the brutal migraines that had gripped me, but because of the cacophony noise, light and motion that seemed unending.

They told us they could get us a private room at first, so there was this hope keeping me sane and then someone else got put in that room and they said I was out-of-luck.

Up until now had endured many painful procedures and had gone through quite a lot, I think most of you can agree, but these migraines were more than I could handle and they had no plan to help me find comfort or even improvement.  Finally I just lost it.  Looking back I feel so bad for the nurses because they were doing all they could do, but  I was finally able to talk to the right people and next thing you know I was in a private room with the lights off!

Not sure what made it happen, probably a combination of everything we were doing:

• the nurses and I working together on figuring out a new schedule for pain meds
• the suggestion of Toradol by my Nurse Practitioner
• and we can’t downplay the role of that new quiet single room

...but I found relief!

Once I was in that single room (and that only happened after I had a little... no...  A  BIG meltdown), I was almost embarrassed that I started feeling so much better.  But my wife reminds me that if I hadn’t gotten a quiet space I might never have started feeling better and I deserved a space that helped me to heal, not a space that made me hurt worse!  (I think she’s right).

Wednesday was terrible.  We seemed to not be managing any of the pain and I never had pain of less than a 9 (maybe an 8 at the least) all day.  Most of that day my pain was excruciating.  I make a big deal out of this only because that night was so amazing.

Once we found the right drug schedule; once we found a new drug to start; once I found a place where we could manage noise and light and cut down the traffic...the pain began to just disappear.  As bad as I had felt all day, within an hour of being in that quiet  room I was a different person.  I pulled my head out from under the blanket.  I began to talk and began, eventually, to smile again.  Wednesday evening I was suddenly able to function a little bit again.  I owe it all to the nurses and administration at Barnes-Jewish for working so diligently to find me a space even though they were out of private rooms, and even though I was yelling and crying at them.  I think I would still be suffering in the hospital (instead of recuperating at home) had they not been able to work that miracle!

Tuesday in ICU: A Video

Here is a video from after the surgery.  We had been in ICU for about 30 minutes or an hour (Time moves differently after a surgery sitting around a hospital).

After Surgery: A Video

So here is a video of Scott as he came out of post-op and got settled into the ICU.  You can see that no matter how many drugs they pump into him, they can't shut him up :-)

A Health Update: Video Edition

I wanted to say "hi," and not just type it.  So I coerced Carrie into holding my iPhone and making this video.

And I want to thank the many people who have supported us along the way:

The Roommate.

Last night was not so easy. My roommate is in his 70's or early 80's and turned his tv on by evening. Oh my goodness it was blasting. I had already asked to move rooms because of a noisy roommate and was determined not to have to again. I asked for earplugs and arranged for my medicine to be well-timed. My roommate turned off the tv at bedtime and I....couldn't sleep. I had earplugs. I had drugs. I had an adjustable bed with plenty of pillows and blankets, but I didn't have sleep. Oh, I've slept for a few hours here and there, but it wasn't deep restful sleep. Then this morning my roommate called for help as he had messed himself. They did the neurological tests where they ask his name, birthdate, where he is at, etc. it was a new person asking him and they didn't seem concerned, but I'd been listening all day and his answers were a lot slower and he covered with humor, but he had to think for a long time on somethings. In fact, he got the year and days backwards on his birthdate before quickly correcting himself.

I don't know if it was the right thing to do, but I went against doctors orders and got up and walked on my own to the nurses station so I could tell them. They came and spent time with him and I pray all is well, but I think they are going to keep a closer eye on him. I think that it is important to have an advocate with you in the hospital.

Day 3: Monday at BJC

Scott hard-at-work blogging from his hospital room. (That's some great hair, Scotty) -Carrie

You are probably getting tired of my hot air, but I have advice. I'm writing this, so if you're tired of reading it, stop. For the rest of you, press on because it only gets more monotonous! Are you excited?

Monday I was finally able to have some breakfast and it stayed down. Whoo-hoo! The doctors finally came around and explained surgery and my MRI results and by mid-morning I had this new roommate who is a really nice fellow.

If you'll remember my meals kept getting pushed back because they didn't yet know how soon the surgery needed to be. The real question at hand was whether there was an infection and the MRI came back clean. More good news. The down side to this, of course, was that after all the waiting I was in for more waiting. Well, that's okay. I'm not in a hurry to be under the knife again. I had breakfast and, even tho it was cold, gross and greasy: It was one of the best meals I had ever had. Oh boy was I hungry!

When it came time for lunch, though, (yes this is about to take a sad, unfortunate turn) they said I couldn't eat for awhile again. They were going to do a procedure to reduce the pressure and swelling by using syringes to pull some of the fluid (and blood) out of my head. It wasn't so bad. At first Carrie told me it was a spinal tap and that sounded excruciating, but it wasn't a spinal tap, they just had to get under the skin, muscle and scar-tissue to pull it out. Now, don't get my wrong, it hurt. I think I nearly squeezed my wife's hand off, but it was bearable and I finally had some relief once I recovered from the procedure. They did the procedure right in my room and numbed the skin with lanocaine (sp?)

The rest of the day was super-exciting. I laid in bed all day. I had fun little moments like when dinner came, but it was a very long day. On Sunday I slept nearly the whole time, but by monday I found myself not sleeping all that much. You may know something about that yourself, I don't know. But isn't it increasingly tough to really rest in a hospital once the newness wears off? Well, it is for me. I think my buttocks begins to get sore from sitting and my nerves get worn by the staff, my family, and other patients and I have a harder-and-harder time truly resting!

That's really all that is fit to print for the moment. After my minor procedure I was pretty well out of it for the next hour or so. It really left me tired and sore, but once I began to sit up I realized that I felt tremendously better.

Day 1 - The ER in Pontiac

Gosh, it's weird and confusing to be here all over again. Here I sit at Barnes Jewish waiting for surgery. I've been through this once so you'd think I'd know what's happening, but i don't. It's been a strange whirlwind sort of weekend and we are just getting to see the full picture.

These last couple of weeks have been harder on me than the initial recovery and last week it got real bad by wednesday when I woke up with terrible pain and headaches which caused me to throw up and then I continued throwing up all morning from about 4 or 5 am until noon and then I finally found a comfortable position and fell off to sleep and slept the rest of the afternoon. The next couple of days were rough, but no more throwing up until Saturday. Saturday was nearly exactly like Wednesday. I woke up earlier than usual and then continually vomitted, but it never stopped. We called the neurosurgeon, just as we did on Wednesday and they weren't terribly concerned (they didn't think it was surgical or related to my surgery). But the neurosurgeons said that we should go to our local ER if the pain persisted.

Finally around 3 pm or so we realized that I was getting no relief. The problem, though, for me, was that I couldn't imagine having to go by car to the hospital. The light and motion seemed like they would just make everything so much worse that I delayed a fair bit before agreeing to go. Well, reason kicked in and my wife helped me to the car and drove me over to St. James OSF Hospital in Pontiac. We go to the hospital around 4 or 4:30 pm.

They got me right into an ER room and I we asked them to make it dark and quiet.  They took care of it immediately and got me on some anti-nausea meds and morphine. Gretchen stopped by cause she was already out and about and sat with me while Carrie went home to pick up my MRI scans and reports from February and March (which we had left at home). The Pontiac hospital did a CT Scan and we waited until 2 am or so to find out that they believed there was bleeding in my brain from the surgery.

It was a long day, but finding out what was going on and finding out that I was getting to transferred was a load off. Sometimes just having a plan makes everything a little better!
I will share more a little later and bring you all up-to-date. For right now, I'm going to relax a little and wait for Carrie to get back from the waiting room. A visitor just came and she took them away from the room so that I could rest.

Thank you, all, for your on-going prayers and concern. We do appreciate your caring support very much!

Scary-Different Church

image found at:  http://newvintageleadership.com/

I'm very worried about the United Methodist Church. It has been on a long and slow decline in membership and finances for years. We know that the course we are on is untenable and we know our bureaucracy is oversized and out-dated...and we know that it no longer reflects the needs of our current church.

I don't know which of the upcoming proposals will be best, but I implore all of those heading to General Conference 2012 to take action this year. If we don't accept the call-to-action or a similar piece of legislation, we won't be around much longer.
I hate to say it so strongly. I hate to have to say it at all...but I am afraid for my church. We can't afford to ignore our problems any longer and the local church can't afford anything, not any more.

It is time for action. I know the arguments against the call-to-action report. I know that many groups fear a loss of voice. I agree, that is not what we want. Yet, I fear there will be no voices soon enough, if we don't reduce the size of our church boards. Furthermore, I wonder how effectively we feel the voices "at the table" are heard in our current system. I wonder how effectively our boards are currently operating?

I have thought long and hard about it. I choose to give up my seat. I know that's not saying much, but I didn't throw my hat in the ring to be on a board or agency this time around. I've served my church the past 8 years and I think I now serve it best by sitting back and letting the church shrink, become more nimble, and allow other voices to be heard. Are others willing to give up their seat for the good of our church? Are we willing to say less in order that the church can do more? Are we willing to step out in faith even though this new reality is scary-different?

Let's make a new future for this church.