It all began on February 18th, with what I anticipated to be a routine eye exam. Years prior, I had an eye exam and was informed I had "a double astigmatism" in my right eye and that a prescription would only relax the eye, not improve vision. This would prove to be a misdiagnosis; I needed an MRI. My vision was not great, but I had vision. Well over time, that vision gradually worsened to almost nothing. I went to this appointment with hopes of being given the option of corrective surgery. Much to my surprise, I raised many red flags with the optometrist. He informed me the blood vessels entering my eye should be pink; mine were gray. He just couldn't understand how this could happen to a seemingly healthy 35 year old woman with no medical history. With great concern and urgency he, himself, contacted Tucson's best neuro-ophthalmologist and requested I be seen immediately. I left wondering what in the world was wrong with me? Would I loose the vision in my left eye also? Would I one day not be able to see Caleb? The sunrise? I was anxious. I was scared. I began to look at things around me differently, etching pictures in my mind. Despite the storm that was beginning to swell within me, I was incredibly blessed to have a kind and compassionate optometrist with a sense of urgency. God was holding my hand. I was reminded that He wants my eyes to stay on Him, to trust Him fully.
The blessings kept flowing. The ophthalmologist who was booked out until mid-April saw me the following Friday. I had expected to be intimidated by one of Tucson's finest, but he was incredibly compassionate. After a series of tests and a review of my medical history, he too was left puzzled. He asked Matt and Caleb to join us as he explained what would happen next. He would order an MRI to rule out anything that might be pressing on my optic nerve. He stated that due to my age and uneventful medical history, there was only a 15% chance that I would ever know what had caused my vision loss. He went on to say that since God only gives each of us two optic nerves, he needed to rule out a tumor. They scheduled my MRI for the following Monday. It would then need to be pushed out until the end of the month. I left believing I would likely never know what caused my vision loss.
At this point, we had shared the journey only with our parents. My Mom prayed with me every chance she could; my Dad sent me verses and encouraging texts daily. Matt's parents were visiting during this time which was an incredible comfort and beautiful distraction.
During this time it became increasingly clear that God had placed us here for such a time as this. My "routine" eye exam, which began a chain reaction placing me in the hands of Tucson's finest doctors, did not happen by chance. He opened doors for us to move to Tucson, and has confirmed time and time again that we are where we are supposed to be.
Just days after receiving my diagnosis, we received word that our home in Michigan, which had been on the market for 17 months, now had an offer on it! We were in the short sale process, and this offer came just two days prior to the auction! We had trusted God to sell our home despite advice to walk away. God's timing is always perfect. It was yet another beautiful reminder that He would indeed see us through our current situation.
Just weeks after moving here, we found a church and began to meet people. These people are now dear friends, and we are blessed to do life with them. Our small group meets every Tuesday evening. It was time to share our situation with them, and ask for their prayers and support. The evening started out as it normally does with the adults inside and the children playing outside. When you're living for God, Satan isn't happy. He attempts to trip you up in anyway he can. This evening, was no different. It abruptly came to halt almost before it got started when a rattlesnake was spotted in the backyard. The children were moved to safety and our brave men went to remove the threat. They, of course, succeeded, but it was a huge disruption to the evening. So much so, the evening almost wrapped up early. But God had bigger plans. The children eventually settled down and made their way back outside. I shared our story; our friends immediately surrounded us, and began lifting us up in prayer. It was an incredibly powerful evening of prayer. The outpouring of love was overwhelming. Our group grew leaps and bounds that night. Our God is so good.
A few weeks passed and we stayed busy exploring and making memories with Gram and Papa. After enjoying a much needed weekend with Matt, together we went to my MRI. I was, once again, given exceptional care and could expect the results in a few days. However, we were closer to a diagnosis than we knew. My ophthalmologist called that afternoon. "You have a benign meningioma pressing on your optic nerve and you need to do something about it. I will have a neurosurgeon call you", he said. A brain tumor? A neurosurgeon? I was in shock. Within minutes, the neurosurgeon's office was on the phone requesting to see me the following day. Of course, I immediately began researching. My search results were putting me at ease.
With Matt by my side, we had our initial meeting with the neurosurgeon. His first question to me, "Tell me what you know? I know you did research last night." I proceeded to tell him that these tumors can usually be removed with non invasive surgery. He then informed me that, unfortunately, that wasn't the case for me. My tumor had grown out of my optic canal, pressed my optic nerve flat and attached itself to my carotid artery. He said we won't be able to remove the entire tumor, and it will likely not restore your vision. However, we must protect the vision in your left eye. He also shared with us that my ophthalmologist often sends him the weird cases. Oh great, I not only have a brain tumor, I have a weird brain tumor! He then proceeded to tell us what the surgery would entail. This is the part of our journey where fear would've completely overtaken us if God had not been our foundation. An incision would be made, starting on my forehead and following my hairline around to my ear. He would then pull my skin back and drill three small holes. They would need to allow my brain to shrink back, getting it out of the way. He would then lean on my brain a little throughout the surgery, but not much. He went on to outline the risks including chances of death. I appreciated his openness, but it almost did Matt and I in. We attempted to process the information we had just been given and ask as many questions as we could manage to put together. We knew that he was our surgeon. We were grateful for the divine chain of events that led us to him, but we needed to go home and attempt to wrap our heads around what we had just heard. We asked how quickly we could have this done, and were shocked at his reply. He informed us surgery could be scheduled as early as the following week.
Over the next two days the details of the surgery played, like a bad record, over and over in my mind. At one point, I said to my Dad, "I am afraid I may not wake up." It consumed me until God reminded me that He is bigger than anything I will ever face. He is the creator of heaven and earth. He can handle a little brain tumor. At that point, I decided not to be afraid. I was incredibly grateful for having one of the finest neurosurgeons. However, I was not trusting the outcome of my surgery to his hands, but to God's. From that point on, His peace covered me like only His peace can. We met with the neurosurgeon, informed him we were ready and scheduled my surgery for the morning of April 9th.
We celebrated Easter and then said our goodbyes to Gram and Papa as they made their way back to Michigan. As one could imagine, our parting of ways was the most emotional to date. My surgery was just under a week away, but now my beautiful distraction was gone. I anxiously awaited my Mom's arrival at the week's end. God filled the void with an overwhelming outpouring of love from friends and family, both near and far. What a blessing to love and be loved.
We explained to Caleb in very basic terms that I needed to have surgery and would be in the hospital for a couple of nights. We informed him that Grandma Sandy would be staying at the house with him. Even though we were extremely cautious as to what was said in his presence, he understood more than we will ever know. He often asked, "When is Mommy going away?" The way he asked the question made it seem as if I wouldn't be coming back. It was heart wrenching for me. Then the day of my pre-op MRI came and afterwards Caleb said to me, "When you go to the hospital, God will be there with you." God assured me he was holding his hand too and he was going to be alright.
Sunday afternoon came and we made our way to the airport to pick up my Mom. Sometimes you just need your Mom and now was definitely one of those times. My parents were scheduled to spend a week with us later in April, but after my diagnosis, she made arrangements to spend over three weeks with us doubling the total time we were able to be together the entire previous year. A beautiful gift.
The morning of April 9th was upon us. Caleb was still asleep when I picked him up and placed him on my lap. I held him tight and etched his precious face upon my heart. I told him how very much I loved him and through sleepy eyes, he told me he loved me too. I hugged my Mom, and then it was time. Before heading out the door, I took one last look in the mirror knowing that I would never look quite the same again.
We checked in and sat among the many others anxiously waiting to undergo surgery. With my prayer cloth in hand, a precious gift from my Dad, I waited for my name to be called. After changing into my fashionable hospital gown, booties and cap, Matt was asked to come escort me to pre-op. The nurse stopped at the 'kissing spot' where I told Matt I would see him soon. As he made his way to the waiting room, I was rolled into pre-op. The nurse held my hands and spoke words of comfort to me. I don't recall what was said, but her compassion will forever be remembered.
My IV was successfully started on the second or third attempt. Even though I was reclined, it still made me nauseous. The nurse applied a cool wet towel to my forward and then the real challenge began. The anesthesiologist attempted to start my second IV. They had to fish and at one point they thought my vain might be smaller than the needle. I kept my focus on Him and praised Him for holding my hand and giving me the strength to be brave. They finally got it started. What a glorious moment! I could now focus on waking up and my recovery. The surgeon arrived and asked me how I was doing. My reply, "I'm ready!".
The next thing I remember, is waking up praising God for seeing me through. I was awake! I still had vision! The surgery went well! All praise and glory to God! I saw the face of my amazing husband and was then taken to the ICU.
Prior to my surgery, I received an email from my former boss, an incredibly Godly man, encouraging me in numerous ways. However, one thing stuck with me most. He said that despite what you're going through, you are still called to be a light and a witness for Him. I made every effort to smile, express gratitude and show joy throughout my surgery and recovery. Matt even had the opportunity to buy a meal for an elderly woman in the hospital cafeteria. It was a beautiful reminder that my life is not about me, it's about reaching others for Him even in the midst of my own personal storms.
I spent two days in the ICU. The pain was surprisingly minimal, but the discomfort of lying flat on my back for two days made for little, to restless sleep at best. The pre-surgical iodine they used continued to irritate my eyes. The anesthetic made me nauseous, and I became very weak from not eating. Ice chips became an incredible treat. Matt attempted sleep in the hospital 'recliner'. He never left my side. The aids were fabulous and did everything they could to make me comfortable. I was sore and restless, but had absolutely nothing to complain about.
I went home right from the ICU. That morning, I would look in the mirror for the first time since leaving our home. Over the course of my two day stay, Matt had informed me I looked great. Let's just say 'great' is not the word I would've chosen for myself. I was hunched over, my eye was swollen shut, my head partially shaved, I sported six inches of stitches and I was in dire need of a shower. I told Matt, "Caleb will think I'm a monster." He, of course, tried to assure me he would not.
A very nice gentleman wheeled me out of the hospital. Every single person we passed smiled. As we made our way outside, the warm sunshine hit my face. Oh how thankful I was to be going home. We arrived home and were greeted by Caleb and Grandma waiting for us in the driveway. Caleb was quite taken back by my appearance. I am sure he anticipated me coming home and everything immediately going back to normal. He surprised me with a bouquet of flowers and a funny card. Within a couple of days, he would once again see Mommy, nothing less, nothing more.
My Mom's heart is that of a servant. She has spent her life serving God and her family. She spent her time in Tucson making sure we had everything we needed. Our home was cleaned and sanitized daily, protecting me from infection. She made my favorite meals, and took care of our laundry. She encouraged me and prayed with me daily. She created several personalized scrub hats for me, making me feel oh so pretty. I am incredibly grateful for the time I was given with my Mom, and the way she loves God and her family through her unselfish acts of service.
On April 12th, just one day after returning home, Matt and I celebrated our 10 year anniversary. It wasn't exactly what we had in mind, but we were together and I was recovering. We received word that the short sale offer, that had been placed on our home the month prior, had been accepted. Oh what a gift!
My journey is far from over. God is still at work. My surgeon has given me one year to see improvement in the vision I have lost. The portion of the tumor that remains will continue to be monitored. I will have a lifetime of MRIs and a long relationship with my neurosurgeon. I am content with the vision I have. However, I believe my vision will come back, not just for me, but so that others may see who Jesus really is. My scar will forever remind me of the goodness and faithfulness of the God I serve. I was given a test and now I have a testimony to share with the world.
The outpouring of love from family and friends, both near and far, washed over me like a flood throughout the journey. I will forever be grateful for the love and prayers from those I am blessed to have in my life. Packages, cards, flowers and words of encouragement filled our home and always came at just the right time. I will always remember the compassion and love that was so graciously given to my family and I.
The storms of life are inevitable, but God will carry you through. However, He will only work with what you give Him, so surrender your life completely. Big or small God cares about it all. Cling to the many promises in His word, and praise Him continuously...for He is good!
Philippians 4:13
I can do all this through Him who gives me strength.
Wow...what a story! I join the others in praying for your continued recovery!
ReplyDeleteI cried when you told me and I cried when I reread this. You are such an amazing person. It was so awesome to see you, Matt and Caleb a few weeks ago. I was so glad I could wrap my arms around you and give you a hug! We will continue to pray for you! We love you guys!!
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