School of Change

I have never been good at handling change. Good or bad. I like my life to be predictable.

Apparently that is not what God wants for my family.

So as Elisabeth goes to school to learn the 3 R's, I need to go to school and learn to accept the unpredictability of life.

We spent last week preparing for a road trip to Duluth, MN for a family reunion. It was going to be a long weekend of fun and bonding. We got on the road Friday morning around 9:00, and at 10:30 made a very long pit stop at the hospital. One of my least favorite places.

Mark woke up with some of the same back pains and twinges of elbow joint pain in his left arm. The same pains he had when he had a heart attack, but this time only a 1 or 2 on the pain scale. He and I discussed and debated over whether to go on the trip or not, but decided to start driving and see if the pain got worse.

It didn't really get worse, but Mark's eyes had worry written all over them. So he called his cardiologist, who by the way, had just given him a clean bill of health the week before, and he suggested Mark take a "quick" detour and stop in an ER to have his heart enzymes checked.

So that's what we did. His EKG looked normal. His troponen level was normal (that was very high when he had his heart attack). His cpk was elevated though. The cpk only checks muscular something or other, not specifically heart issues. His de-dymer (NO idea how to spell that), which measures the potential for clots being formed, was also elevated but a CAT scan showed no clot. And the pain that he was having? It disappeared on its own within the hour.

We sat in the ER room for hours. We questioned why we even stopped, frustrated that we were losing so much road time and watching the out-of-network dollar signs go "ka-ching!" every time another Dr. popped his head in the room. Of course we knew that stopping was the right thing to do, but sitting in a hospital was the last place we wanted to be. We kept waiting for them to say Mark could go on his merry way.

They never said that.

Because of Mark's history, he's now considered a 'high risk' patient. So, they admitted him.

UGH! Talk about throwing a wrench in the plans!

The Dr. strongly recommended Mark staying so that they could take two more sets of bloodwork, each 8 hours apart, to be 100% certain that he wasn't having a heart attack. So, he sat in a hospital bed from 2:00 pm to 9:30 am the next day.

The hospital we stopped at happened to be near Mark's sister's house, which was a perfect coincidence, as the girls didn't have to spend the entire time being stuck in the hospital too. Their Aunt Barb picked them up around 1:00 and they spent the day on the farm. They had a blast! And when I came to the house that evening to crash and asked Elisabeth if she wanted to go visit Mark in the hospital, she chose to stay at the farm and ride the horses. Poor Mark, the horses got chosen over him!

We missed the family reunion.

And that's okay, because there will be another reunion next year, but we only get one chance at life, and we will do whatever it takes to make that life a long and healthy one. We were so happy that Mark didn't have a heart attack this time, but I still couldn't shake this feeling of sadness. It took days and a couple of great friends to help me realize that my sadness stems from mourning our old 'normal.' Now we have this new normal, where we need to be cautious and aware, and we need to accept that our plans can change in the blink of an eye. And that sucks! Much like stress sucks.

Speaking of that, we're fairly certain this isn't helping Elisabeth's anxiety levels. Which makes sense. I was just hoping to tip the scale in the other direction, you know? So we are working hard on talking openly with her about anything and everything. She and I talk to Charlie cat in heaven at night. She tells him how much she misses him, she tells him about her day, she tells him that she's so happy that her daddy is home. It's a good release for her.

So, this school of change - I'm working on it. My #2 pencils are sharpened. I'm sitting at my desk. I'm learning. Every day I work on learning to accept change. I don't like it, but I have to accept that these are the cards God has dealt us, and that He can change them in a blink of an eye. I have to trust Him. That sucks, because I'd rather lay down on the floor and throw a fit, kicking my arms and legs like a toddler. I've kind of been doing that in my head, and I'm trying to work through it. It's hard, but I will keep working on accepting His plan.

Maybe someday I'll get my A+!

No longer Mr. Swiss Cheese!

Mark is done already, and there is NO HOLE! Thank goodness!

I mean, a hole in the heart that is easily fixable is a cakewalk in the grand scheme of things, but I'd kind of like to be done with the whole heart thing, you know? So anyway, I thank God for sparing us on this one, and giving us the strength to get through that freakishly long hour. And I thank God for the gas in my car that took me to Jimmy John's while Mark had his test. Prayer mixed with a Vito-with-peppers is always a good way to ease one's nerves.

All joking aside, I am so very thankful for good news. God is good!

Mr. Swiss Cheese

Mark is going in for a Bubble Echocardiogram today. He has been going in for ECHO's on a fairly routine basis and the last one showed no damage to his heart, but they do think he might have a hole in his heart!

They are going to insert a bubble of saline into his arm and then watch the bubble go into his heart -- if it passes from one ventricle to the other, then they know there is a hole there. If it doesn't, then no hole.

If you think like me, then you are probably wondering if his potential Swiss Cheese Heart was to blame for his heart attack in May. The answer at the moment is no, they are not related.

Word on the street is that a hole in the heart is actually fairly common and no big deal, they just go in and close it up. Still, I can't shake my nerves off. Maybe because we have had nothing but (new) normal in our house for the past 2 months?

So, pray for my sanity, pray that everything goes well with Mark's test, and that the doctors and technicians have the vision to see anything they need to see.

And pray for my sanity. Did I say that one yet???

Perfect timing and a perfect heart

Mark had an echocardiogram this morning.

The tech said that his heart looked as if nothing was ever wrong with it!

I am happy to hear that, and I pray that the tech, nurse and cardiologists have the wisdom to see or not see whatever it is that they need to see or not see, and that his heart is truly healed.

MckMama over at mycharmingkids.net put up this post, which includes a great analogy about God being the one in control even if we think we're the ones in control. How does she do that? She always seems to know exactly what I need to hear. It's a good reminder, that while we may think we know exactly where we are headed (or on the other end of the spectrum, while we may happen to freak out at the fact that we have no stinking idea what the future holds which scares the crap out of us), ultimately it is Him who will guide us to wherever it is that we are headed. To put our trust in Him, and he will get us there when it's time to get there.

Even though we don't know for sure that Mark's heart is healed (but can we just hope and pray that it really is? thanks.) or what's in store for our future, God knows the plan. And he will hold our hands as he takes us on that journey.

One gigantic bubble

I had a sort of awakening this morning as I was watching the morning news. Have you heard about the toddler that got the pencil lodged in his neck, just barely missing his carotid artery, in a freak accident at the playground?

Thank God he is okay!

I immediately thought back to the silly injuries and black eyes my children have gotten recently and started thinking "This is why I would like to live in a bubble." Then I wouldn't have to worry so much, because the accidents wouldn't happen in the first place.

But then I started thinking about Mark's heart attack. Bubble or not, the heart attack was going to happen. So much for that theory.

Here's where my morning coffee kicked in. Are you ready?

What if we are in fact all living in a bubble already? One huge, larger than earth, unpoppable bubble. What if God is our bubble? After all, this is still Plan A, right? That's not going to change. God is not on Plan B. Whatever He has in store for us has already been decided. But His bubble is here to give us comfort in our time of need. He will protect us and give us the strength that we need to get through, as long as we trust Him and His almighty bubble.

I'm still struggling with the fact that the words heart attack have been added to our life's vocabulary. Now I'm a soccer mom and wife to a man who's had a heart attack. At the age of 37. But that is okay, because Mark is fine, and we are learning from this experience. In so many ways. More than I could probably express to you, and maybe I will do so in another post, at another time. But for now, for the literal - we have learned what a heart attack looks and feels like. We have learned that Mark will just need to be extra proactive with his health. We have learned that every day is a blessing. We will learn a new normal - one that's not too far off from our old normal, but again, in so many ways is different. We will survive this. We already have.

It was indeed a heart attack

I have a mix of emotions running through my body right now. And will update with details later. Mark is fine, and it was not your everyday run of the mill average Joe heart attack so that's good. Still, I am left with my own heavy heart over hearing the words heart attack again.

Humbling

To quote two of my favorite SNL characters, "We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

It is honestly quite humbling to see the kind of support we have been given over the past 6 days. Prayers. Meals. Chats. Visits. It's made me realize what a great web of community we have managed to weave ourselves into.

Along with our families, our neighbors have been incredible. Our neighbor Erica heard that Mark wasn't allowed to have a chocolate chip cookie from "room service" because he was on the "heart healthy" floor. So what did she do? She made him a gigantic cookie that said "Get Well Soon" which tasted even better than a Mrs. Field's cookie. I would have taken a picture of it, but Mark dug right in as soon as I walked in the house with it! Our neighbors have given us meals. Our field grass is being mowed for us later this week. Elisabeth played at a neighbor's house so Mark and I could lay down and rest while Sydney napped. Have I ever mentioned how much I love our neighbors?

My mom also came down on Monday after the dust started to settle. This was another nice treat for the girls and she helped me to take my mind off of things for a while. I totally needed that.

Our church has also helped us in more ways than one. I ran into two ladies from our church on Sunday at Elisabeth's ballet recital, one of whom was dancing in the recital - and proved to be a fantastic tap dancer. We talked about Mark, and they told me to call if there was anything we needed, and to not be shy. So, in my quest to not be shy, I called. Well, in all honesty, our pastor called us the next day, and I asked him. Baby steps, right? We now have hot meals for the next three nights being delivered. Last night's menu? Roast beast. And green beans and mashed potatoes. And for dessert? Homemade brownies with ooey gooey chocolate frosting. Yum-O. We all devoured it. And of course thanked God for the good meal. Because cereal can be fun for dinner, but not every night for a week. Which is what we would have had if I was in charge this week.

Earlier this week Pastor Mike stopped by. Two days in a row actually. The first day I was not home, so he and Mark had a good manly chat. You would have to ask Mark what they discussed, as I am not privy to man talk. Maybe sports. Or what Mark has been through. Or both. Pastor Mike brought a handmade wooden cross that was made by a member of our church. This man made many of these crosses for people that needed extra prayers - he passed away recently, and we have one of the last few remaining crosses. Have I mentioned that we're not worthy?


The second day Pastor Mike came with a prayer shawl for Mark. A fantastic group of women at our church make these prayer shawls, and I have placed my hands on many of them during church and prayed for the recipient. How speechless was I when I saw that we were now the recipients of one! And yes, I cried. How did you know I would cry?

There was a card that accompanied the shawl, and I hope the ladies don't mind that I'm sharing the note with you:

Dear Mark,

This prayer shawl is covered with prayers for your good health, comfort and strength. May our Lord Jesus Christ continue to use you and shine through you at this time, and in the future.

May His healing hands cover you and hold you in His peace.

"Hearts and Hands"
Shawl Ministry of Living Waters Lutheran Church



Humbling. Have I mentioned that word yet?

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On a medical note, Mark is still actually in a lot of pain. Seems morphine is the best stuff ever, but that is obviously not what he was sent home with. He now has a lot of chronic G.I. pain, and I cringe watching him eat because every time he swallows it looks like someone has just punched him in the stomach. The Dr. thinks this is simply from aspirin, but even with Prilosec to stop the burn he is keeled over in pain. His back also hurts quite a bit. He is planning on seeing the Dr. today, whether they like it or not, because really - he cannot keep going like this. Nor can I stand to watch him like this. I am relieved he did not have a heart attack or a clot, but nobody should have to be in pain like this. Or any other pain. Even if it is plan A.

It is God who is my helper, the heart of Love who sustains my life. - Psalm 54:6

It has been a long weekend, to say the least. One of the longest of my life.

Mark woke up very early Friday morning with pain in his chest and back. I, being the good wife that I am, told him to go back to bed. So, after 3 hours of trying to get rid of the pain he did. He woke up with the same pain Saturday morning around 2am and after unsuccessful attempts at relieving the pain, we decided he should go into urgent care. And assumed they would just give him a muscle relaxant and send him on his merry way. I half slept for the next hour or so, and dreamed that Mark had something wrong with his back and would require back surgery. So when I got a call at 4am from urgent care saying they were sending him via ambulance to the emergency room and that he had elevated heart enzymes but was fine, I thought "Oh good, I'm going back to bed".

But the lady kept talking, and calmly started giving me directions to the hospital.

"Am I supposed to go in? I have 2 kids in bed right now" I said, trying to figure out what heart enzymes were.

"Yes, I think that would be a good idea ma'am," she said.

I hung up and started walking in circles. "This can't be happening," I said out loud. I called our neighbors Doug and Lisa. They came over right away. Doug works in a cath lab, and was able to explain to me that yes, I definitely needed to get there right away, and that elevated heart enzymes can be many things - one of which is a heart attack, but hopefully it's just a panic attack.

So I hopped in my car and started driving. Do you know that White Castle is open at 4:30am? Taco Bell too. McDonald's is not. I focused on whatever I could, drove the exact speed limit in the middle lane for fear of hitting a random walker on the side of the road.

I arrived at the hospital and walked around the desk and found a nurse sitting behind the desk.

"Are you Mark Taylor's wife?" she said. Mark was the only one in there.

"Yes, I am. How is he doing?"

"It appears he has had a small heart attack."

A small heart attack. I certainly didn't expect to hear that. After all, I was ready to go back to bed when the nurse called me! I took Mark's wedding rings. They were too big for my thumbs. I really wanted them on my fingers but knew I would lose them. Reluctantly, I put them in my wallet. I walked with Mark and two nurses up to the 2nd floor, where he was going to have an angiogram to check for blockages in his arteries.

"Is there anyone we can call? A friend, or family member?" the nurse asked. The only time I have ever heard anyone on TV ask that is if someone is dying. So of course, I started crying.

"No," I replied. As did Mark.

"Okay, well we can send in the chaplain." Again, never said on TV unless it's really bad. We cried, kissed each other, and off they went. I walked into the darkest, biggest, emptiest waiting room I have ever seen. I called Mark's parents and told them what I knew - that Mark had a small heart attack. They hopped into the car and drove to our house to get directions to the hospital from Doug and Lisa. I called my dear friend Kate, who helped calm me down, and helped me to realize how lucky we are that we have people like Doug and Lisa. She's so right. Lisa was even sweet enough to bring Elisabeth to her ballet rehearsal in the morning, for which I am so thankful. Kate came to relieve Doug and Lisa and spent the day with the girls, so that Mark's parents and I could come and go as needed. I'm so lucky to also have Kate in my life. She spent the day being manipulated by two girls, playing games, playing outside, and baking cookies with Elisabeth.

After what felt like a day but was probably more like an hour, one of the nurses came into the waiting room. "Mrs. Taylor?" the nurse said.

"Yes?" I wiped the tears away from my face and tried to hide the entire box of tissues that I had just used up.

"Mark's angiogram was clear! His arteries are clear, and he did not have a heart attack!"

What a relief! I was not going to be husband-less any time soon!

So we got settled in Mark's hospital room. The heart unit was filled with old men. And Mark. It truly felt like a place we were not supposed to be. Mark's parents came in a while later and we all thanked God that Mark was okay. Mark was already on morphine (among other meds but the initial hours are such a blur) but had a lot of heartburn. He thought he just needed a 7-Up. I am fairly certain that this was the anesthesia talking, or it could be because the nurse was cute and he just wanted some nurse lovin'. Anyway, throughout the day his blood levels and his EKG still showed irregular readings, so we certainly were not out of the woods yet. Mark would need a CatScan to make sure a blood clot/pulmonary embolism was not a possibility. I went home for a while to kiss our girls and help Kate with lunch/naptime, and we all returned to visit Mark prior to the CatScan. When we walked in, Mark was in tears and his mom was rubbing his shoulders. Not knowing what was going on, I assumed Mark had just been given very bad news. However it was only that he was in the worst amount of pain yet. The next dose of morphine had not kicked in yet. I felt so bad, and also so confused. Why, if the heart was being ruled out, did he have such horrendous pain? It was in his chest, across his shoulders and in his finger and elbow joints. Aside from his pain, we had a nice visit with Mark - Elisabeth and Sydney brought cards they had made with Kate that morning, and Elisabeth picked out some flowers and balloons for her daddy. I am not sure who enjoyed the balloons more - Elisabeth, Sydney or Mark. But Mark got to keep them in the room.

Mark had some more tests (an Echo which showed nothing out of the ordinary, more EKG's and more blood work) and his CatScan - what a cool looking machine! - and that came back perfect as well. No blood clot to worry about. Thank God! Still, the question remained - what on earth was going on? Mark's primary physician had suspected that if it wasn't a heart attack or a blood clot, it could be a viral attack on the heart tissue. A viral attack? That scared us. How could that be good? So we all went to bed with many questions answered but many also unanswered.

It was such a long day. It felt like 4 days rolled into one, really. What a roller coaster. Good news, bad news, unanswered questions, worry, relief, etc. Still, as exhausted as we all were, I felt okay for the most part. I put myself on some kind of autopilot throughout the day. Of course I cried, but I also joked, smiled, kissed my husband and my kids, was a wife, a mom, everything I am supposed to be. What else can a person do when there is so much up in the air? This is one thing I have learned recently, that you need to just "relax" (so not possible) and put your trust in God. I did. I also leaned heavily on the support of friends, family, neighbors, and our pastor. For the first time in a while I accepted help. And lots and lots of prayer.

We went to bed. Exhausted. And slept as well as we could. I think Mark got the best night's sleep of all of us! ("Thanks to the morphine," he says.)

The next morning we got ready. I grabbed my 18 (okay, 5) bags of stuff which included Elisabeth's ballet recital costume and we all headed over to the hospital. Mark looked good. He was sitting in a chair, and was no longer connected to saline and Heparin drips. And yes, Mark did in fact get the best night's sleep out of all of us. Potentially better than all of us combined. The Dr. ruled out the viral attack based on extra blood tests, and the new theory was that his two preventative meds (Niaspan for triglycerides and Antara for good cholesterol) were working against each other creating an intramuscular (not necessarily heart) problem. Mark has been taking these meds for 3 years though, so we are not totally convinced that's the only thing going on. Mark's been under a lot of stress lately, so perhaps that added into the equation was enough to send us into this nightmare? In any case, the plan is to stop taking one of the meds and see if that helps. Mark has been eating well and exercising for years now in an effort to prevent the heart issues that run in the family. Which is why we were so confused about the situation in the first place.

Mark's mom, Sydney and I took Elisabeth to her ballet recital and left Mark and his dad at the hospital. The recital was quite possibly the cutest thing I have ever seen. I was concerned about Elisabeth considering the circumstances, but she did great! However when I greeted her afterward she was crying hysterically - to the point that her face looked broken out in a rash - and she said she was upset because her Barbie video game didn't have batteries in it. I am fairly certain this was her stress level finally getting the best of her.

We called Mark after the recital, and he was discharged - and already home! It was so nice to drive home and sit down with him in our own house, knowing we would not have to drive back to the hospital. It was the first time all weekend that my own anxiety-induced chest pains disappeared. Mark is on many prescriptions right now - a Beta Blocker to prevent a heart attack, a blood thinner, a pain killer and an anti-inflammatory. And tylenol and aspirin. Along with his Niaspan. He said he feels like an old man, trying to remember when to take each medicine. He still gets the same pains in his shoulders and of course at the site where the catheter entered the artery for the angiogram, but he is able to control it. He has a follow-up appointment later this month, and we pray that he will be healed of whatever the problem is.

These are the words that were written on the wall in the cardiac unit: "It is God who is my helper, the heart of Love who sustains my life." I passed these words often over the course of the weekend. They were a comfort and reminder to me every time I passed them to put my faith in God. Elisabeth reminds us often that "God is in our hearts and in our bodies and all around us." She is so right. We were well taken care of this weekend by family, friends, neighbors, and God. We are so lucky to have this kind of support system. It's not something I truly realized until this weekend. A swingset is one thing (which is driven by beer, of course). Something like this is a whole other ballgame, you know?