An Unexpected Turn of Events

I know that yesterday I said that negative outcomes were just as likely as positive outcomes. Now that I’m slightly more emotionally stable, I see the reality of this situation with more clarity. 

In other words, Anxiety, you can take a seat now. Thank you, next. 

Let’s take inventory of the facts, or what I perceive to be objectively true with as little emotion as possible.

1. In Pa’s intensive care unit, each patient was assigned a nurse. It was really calm in that unit, the complete opposite of the ER. There were more nurses than patients with high-tech equipment and supplies. And the nurses were pleasant! They didn’t look as burned out as most nurses I’ve seen. They even had downtime to organize their stations and at times they looked bored. As critical as the patients’ conditions were, they were well-equipped and well-prepared for any situation. 

2. The hospital schedules cardiac procedures and tests based on the urgency of the patient’s condition. The fact that we had to wait days for Pa’s tests and specialists to show up tells me that though his situation was bad, it was manageable. Don’t get me wrong, it was so distressing for us and Pa, but the staff never seemed too worried. And they’re professionals, so they know more than we do.

3. Pa is in the best place he could be — a hospital with the specialized care and equipment he needs to keep him healthy. There’s really no better place he could be right now. 

Much needed objective truths. God is sovereign. He is faithful. And He is good. 

“Anxiety is the overestimation of the threat being over the underestimation of our ability to cope.”

There’s something really empowering about being able to define a scary thing. It’s almost like trapping “anxiety” in a few words or sentences helps me feel like it’s not as big as I think it is.

 
I’ve struggled with anxiety for many years now. Sometimes it’s really bad and other times it’s manageable. Today, I really feel all your prayers for me and our family.

It doesn’t make Pa’s condition any less serious or urgent. 

Please, do keep praying. If you know me well, you know I don’t say things I don’t genuinely mean. I still don’t have the words to pray. It’s too close to home for me to really believe any of my own prayers for recovery, healing and miracles.

But you are making a difference. I feel like I can actually see the other side of this terrible season. I can only imagine what new life will be like when Pa gets home and recovers. 
Earlier this week I never thought it would all end. It sounds dumb, but I really couldn’t see it. 
All these days have melted into one long cycle. I’ve measured time based on hospital visits, Google Maps estimated travel times, Pa’s nurses rotating on 12-hour shifts. My “checkpoints” are based on the number of cardiac arrests Pa’s had and the number of times he’s been revived.

“Anxiety is the overestimation of the threat being over the underestimation of our ability to cope.”

My therapist shared this with me a few weeks ago. She encourages me to take inventory of “proof” to support my beliefs. So if you want to change or challenge a belief, look for objective truths that support the new belief you want to take hold of. 

I’m not a big science person, but it’s really cool to  challenge my own thoughts and treat my brain like my own patient. 

Writing really does calm me down. But before it does that, it forces me to reflect and that can be really scary. It forces me to face the emotions and thoughts that I’ve been ignoring and trying to suppress all day. They’ve been pent up, waiting for this moment of me lying in bed with heavy eyes and a growling stomach to write this post. 

I’m half asleep. My body is exhausted. I’ve either gone to the hospital or driven to it every day this week - except today. Today, we ran errands for my sister’s wedding. Energizing and exhausting all at the same time. 

 
Pa’s procedure went an hour and a half longer than they said it would. We don’t know about what “emergency protocol” or his recovery will look like, but we all have our predictions. 

His favourite pasttimes of driving and cycling will probably have to be put on pause. But the stress of family dynamics, dying family members, empty nesting… there are so many stress factors he can’t control or really avoid. How can he cope with that?

One day at a time. One step at a time. 

That’s what I keep telling myself. The idea of still going on our vacation like we scheduled actually seems like an okay idea right now. But part of me feels really guilty for that. 

That part of me is really loud, actually. She’s yelling at me to postpone the trip, to put my family’s needs above my own. She’s going on and on about how me and my husband are irreplaceable, that we’re the only ones who can offer the support our family will need when Pa comes home. Our family needs us and no one else can help them like we can. 

What a bunch of huey! I’ve always wanted to say that. 

The other part of me knows me and my husband need this trip. She says we booked it with good intentions. She reminds me that we were excited and we already started packing. She says it’s a great time to travel because kids are back in school, people are back to work, and we could use a break. 

I’m worried about my health today though. My body is still recovering from my ruptured ovarian cyst and now the side effects of some lame medication. I’m also still recovering from food poising that I got on Christmas. 

“There will never be a perfect time,” I hear in my husband’s voice. 

I can make you a nice long list of excuses to avoid travelling if you needed me to. Health. Our parents. Our dog.

Making wise decisions. Setting boundaries. Saying no to people pleasing. Challenging anxiety. They’re not easy things to do but I know they’re worth doing.  

As “honourable” as it might seem to postpone a trip to help family, or to push through exhaustion to comfort someone, or to do anything at the expense of my own physical, mental and emotional health, God cares deeply for me, too. I am not a means to an end.

My anxiety tells me there will be people who will be upset with us for our decision. They may not say it or show it, but they’ll feel it. 

“So let’s say they are upset with you. Can you change that?” 

Well I could try to make them not upset. 

“But do you have any control over how someone feels about you?” 

No. 

That’s my reenactment of my conversations with my therapist. Challenging anxious thoughts and distorted thoughts is so powerful. 10/10 would recommend. 

I want to trust God with this decision. It hasn’t been easy wrestling with this. Even as I write this, I feel myself trying to justify to you this decision to go on our trip. 

But I don’t need to do that. How you perceive me is not my problem. 

Wow do I even really believe that? Haha. It’s a true statement but it doesn’t make it any easier to not think of your feelings as my problem. 

-

It’s a guarantee in life that you and I will be hit with unexpected turns of events, no matter what.

Green lights will turn yellow quicker than we think. Friends will cancel plans. People will make mistakes. A seemingly healthy loved one will go into cardiac arrest in the middle of the preacher’s last point. And heroes will act on their instincts and revive him again and again. 

And again. 

And again. 

And again. 

And again.