Shampoo is better, no conditioner is better!

It's time for a bath.  My parents physically carry me up the stairs and put me in the tub.  My mom washes me off, and starts shampooing my hair as I am slumped over the side of the tub, oxygen blasting and my eyes barely open. I'm a dead weight, but none the less, my mom's voice stays uplifting as she tells me what beautiful hair I have and how nice it's going to feel to lay on the couch all fresh.  My dad's preparing my clothes and new fresh sheets for the couch, which has become my living space... This was our life.  This became normal to us.

But not anymore.

I recovered. I came home. I was walking. And then I started washing my own hair.  I couldn't believe I had the strength, the energy and the BREATH to do it.. but I did.  I didn't cough, I wasn't tired and I didn't have to stop to catch my breath because it never left. Instead of sitting in the tub hunched over toward the outside, I was outside of the tub, leaning over it, using my new fancy shampoo (thanks Kate Arian!).

Then, after all the staples were out and everything was healed... I could take my first legitimate shower.  I remember stepping in and praying because although I was told I could do this... I was scared.  Flashbacks of how things used to be popped into my head, and as I pulled back the curtain to step under the rushing water, I prayed.  "God.. please make this be ok because it just feels so weird."  Taking a shower felt weird.  I began to slightly panic wondering if my chest was really healed enough to take the water pressure, or if the temperature was ok for my new lungs.. after all, I couldn't breathe in humidity at all before.. then memories of my last showers started flooding my mind... how every shower, even if I felt ok, inevitably led to watching the blood that I coughed up spiral down the drain... 

I stepped in, feeling a little crazy for being so worried over a shower but nonetheless clutching to God.  The water was just right, and as it pounded down on me, God reminded me of those daydreams I clung to on ECMO -- of standing underneath a water fall, feeling each water pellet strike me individually, and yet all at once, drenching me and dripping down my face without ceasing.  And as I stood there, the water not only washed me, but washed away everything I was fretting over, and I was reminded yet again, the GOOD that the Lord has for me.  The "simple" gifts he's given me, like hot water, and my senses to feel it.  He reminded me of how nice it feels to wash my own hair, and use girly scented body washes.. How I forgot the days of turning on the radio louder than I should so I could hear it once I turned the the handle that made the shower head suddenly spurt... I was reminded yet again that it is Jesus who is the Living Water, and how it is Jesus who washes away my sins, and my fears.

And after I finished actually showering, I stood.  I didn't do anything but listen to the water spraying with all its force.. closing my eyes and tipping my head so I could feel the warmth and pressure beat against me and drip down my face, and realize that all the while... I was breathing.

"'For I know the plans I have for you, says the LORD. 'They are plans for good...'" Jeremiah 29:11a

The LORD has GOOD things planned for us, even when our feelings tell us that it's scary, and weird and wrong... If it's leading you to the Living Water, you'll soon discover that waterfall of goodness He's been waiting to flood you with all along.. and I say flood on purpose.. because this is just the beginning.

I'm going to go take a shower because God is love.

i'm WALKING on Son-shine

I FINALLY got out of CT-ICU and graduated to the 7th floor which is strictly transplant floor. In between this time, I passed my speech and swallow test, which meant I was allowed to eat soft foods and finallyyyy drink! This also meant that I was allowed to swallow my pain meds so I didn't have any negative side affects like paranoia anymore!  (I still got a little loopy.. but to me everything was the funniest and greatest thing I'd ever seen, and I'm pretty sure my happy delirium entertained my nurses and family haha. my favorite nurse came to visit me.. she walked in laughing and said "enjoying the drugs are we?") I still had trouble sleeping, because my mind still got scared that if I fell asleep, I'd stop breathing, but other than that, things were pretty good.. until I realized I couldn't move.

At all.

I couldn't lift my head on my own,  I couldn't roll to my side, I couldn't move my legs no matter how hard I tried.  I could move my arms and hands, but that was it.  I was in shock.  I got these new lungs, and now I can't even use them!  The docs and nurses assured me that this was normal, I was young and would bounce back quickly.  My transplant friends also reassured me, telling me how their legs were like spaghetti and look where they are now.  It helped for a minute but then I'd naturally go to move, and not be able to and get frustrated all over again.  Physical therapy started in CT-ICU and was so, so painful.  They wanted me to develop my core muscles again, and of course try to walk, but I couldn't.  So they'd pick me up and sit me in a chair.. So incredibly painful.. they way most therapists picked me up tugged on my incision line, and made me feel like I was literally being torn in half.  On 7th floor, we did more bed exercises, and soon I was practicing standing up.  They'd pick me up, and hold me while I tried my best to lock my knees, and we'd just stand for a half a minute and then sit and do it over again.  It was shocking to me how I had to relearn things just because my muscles were so depleted.  I had no balance - when I got strong enough that they could start to let go holding me and try to let me just stand, I'd start leaning in one direction about to fall over.  It took a long time to get walking, but when I finally started taking those first steps, it was such a victory.  I had to walk with a walker, the therapist holding onto me, and someone (usually my mom) walking right behind me with a chair incase i fell.  Many days were depressing.. I still couldn't stand up on my own.. someone had to physically pick me up and put me on my feet.. and even though I was glad to finally be able to hobble along with a walker, some days I didn't do as well as I wanted to, or was so exhausted afterward I could just cry.  "It will come, it will come" they kept telling me.  But it wasn't... I was stuck in this phase of walking like a penguin while clutching a walker so tight my knuckles were turning white.  I was referred to go to acute rehab which is basically a more intense physical therapy, and I thought and prayed a lot about it, but ultimately decided to go home.  When we got home, I couldn't go up the stairs so my parents basically carried me haha and it was a little tough for a few days, but so much better than the hospital.  Eventually I started walking without the walking but holding onto the wall or furniture as I walked, and then one day... look ma, no hands! 

Jesus told him, “Stand up, pick up your mat, and walk!” - John 5:8

I can walk because God is love.

Paranoia, paranoia, everybody's coming to get me.

It was awesome to be awake.  They told me I'd feel like I was hit by a bus, but I didn't feel like that.  I had a nice little button I could press for pain meds, and they kept telling me to press it more than I was.  Soon enough they realized I didn't need that hardcore of pain meds anymore, and they switched me over to percocet -- always my drug of preference ;) :P  I told them that I responded well to it in the past, and so that's what I got.  Except this time.. I didn't respond so well.  

There are a few theories for this:

1) My body was still pretty sick and recouping from all it went through, so it was extra sensitive to the medication

or my theory:

2) I couldn't eat, drink, or swallow anything so they took percocet pills, crushed them, and put them into a tube in my stomach, resulting in metabolizing the drug differently, and more quickly... making me go...well, completely nuts.

I would freak out.  I stopped believing that I was breathing.. This is "normal" after transplant because my entire life I had to consciously work to breathe.. and now I don't.  Ok, so every 5 minutes.. sometimes I didn't even make it that long.. I'd have a panic attack and ask my mom if I was really breathing.. I'd ask every doc that came in, every nurse, every friend.. anyone who stepped foot into my room became victim of my panic.  I couldn't see straight, and the room often spun, especially at the peak times of the drugs.  I was paranoid, too. The nurses were obviously out to get me, and my mom had apparently taken their side.  I didn't believe anything anyone told me, and felt I truly couldn't trust anyone.. anyone that is, besides Jesus.

Of course the nurses weren't there to do anything but help me, and my mom would be the last person to take someone's side against mine, but I was completely convinced, and I have to say, even though that wasn't actual reality, it was my reality, and it scared me more than anything.  Who could I trust to take care of me now when I still couldn't speak, and now physically couldn't move (my muscles were gone after surgery)?  Oh right.  God.  The One thing that remained, the One that I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt wouldn't leave me was my Savior.  

"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.” Deuteronomy 31:6

Woof.  He will NEVER leave you, and he will NEVER forsake you.  When you're reality is that everyone is against you, there's always One who's got your back. always. 

So I talked to him.  I called upon the name of Jesus so many times in complete and utter terror that I couldn't have said a word even if I had the ability to talk. And in that complete and utter terror, the Lord answered, and would bring me comfort, and coherence.  I can vividly remember awful nightmares I would have (the times I was calm enough to actually sleep), and actually praying in my dreams, pleading for God to wake me up because I was so scared.  And he did.. every single time.  He didn't let me linger in my fear.  Perfect love casts out fear (1 John 4:18)... God IS love (1 John 4:8) and God NEVER leaves me.. This is like one of those "if a=b and b=c" type equations.  If God is love, and God never leaves me, that means love never leaves me.  Fear can't be in the presence of perfect love (God), therefore, I can't remain in fear when I focus on God.  Yet again, God held true to his promises.  Does anyone else see a trend here?

So in those moments when I was frustrated, lonely, scared, terrified, completely confused, drastically drugged, panicking beyond my control, and perpetually paranoid, God was still faithful to me, and it had absolutely nothing to do with who I am, what circumstance or frenzy I found myself in that day, or anything I had done or not done.. It's just because God loves us.  Yes, us.  We all go through different situations, different emotions, different struggles... but when you're confused, depressed, paranoid, whatever your trial may be.. know that when you can't trust anyone, you can trust God; know that there will always be at least one who wants to help you, one who is always rooting for you, and you will always have a number one fan.. when you walk with him you realize you'll never be alone; he will never forsake you.  His name is Jesus.  He died for you.  He's not going to leave you high and dry now.

When I thought I was on my own, I never really was alone because God is love.

We interrupt these transplant messages...

I WILL keep posting about transplant.. obv the story isn't finished yet.. but a friend brought to mind a certain Psalm tonight and I can't helppp but post about it. I just love it. 



"Vindicate me, O God, And plead my cause against an ungodly nation; Oh, deliver me from the deceitful and unjust man! For You are the God of my strength; Why do You cast me off? Why do I go mourning because of the oppression of the enemy? Oh, send out Your light and Your truth! Let them lead me; Let them bring me to Your holy hill And to Your tabernacle. Then I will go to the altar of God, To God my exceeding joy; And on the harp I will praise You, O God, my God. Why are you cast down, O my soul? And why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; For I shall yet praise Him, The help of my countenance and my God." 

Psalms 43:1-5


Woof.. that's a lot to take in.. especially from David.  Yeah, you know.. the man who was King David.  Deemed the man after God's own heart.  That guy who killed the mighty (and very scary) Goliath when his job wasn't to be a warrior, but to watch sheep... He's also the  guy who slept with a married woman, got her pregnant, tried to pass it off as her husband's doing, and when he could't, killed the husband and married the now widowed wife.  Um, what?  And THIS is the man that God proclaims is after His own heart?

I could go on and on about David forever.. Not only does the Bible comment on his studly looks (like hey baby worthy looks), but it also shows us our true human nature through him, and how God loves us just the same even when we are on that crazy roller coaster of emotions.

"Vindicate me, O God..." Why should he?  What have we done to deserve clearance or be absolved from our sins?  Oh sure, I never killed anyone like David did... but that one lie I told last week was enough to nail Jesus on the cross.  And it's not limited to that one lie, I haven't just sinned ONCE.  Jesus died on that cross loooong before I could even speak, let alone before any perversity could come from my mouth.. he took the punishment for it.  And now, because of that.. because I have accepted Christ, follow him, and his blood has washed me white as snow, I am vindicated. I am absolved. I am redeemed.  Now this doesn't mean that I won't ever ever sin again.. but it does mean that Jesus has already got my back when I do sin, and all I have to do is turn my heart back to him, and say sorry.  And even when that happens, how sweet of God to correct me gently. 

"So correct me, LORD, but please be gentle. Do not correct me in anger, for I would die."
Jeremiah 10:24


"For you are the God of my strength; Why do you cast me off?" -- Ever feel like God isn't responding to you?  Like He's just cast you off, doesn't care, or isn't responding to your needs?  This is where things start to get a little sticky... we trust our emotions. Everyone says follow your heart, do what you feel and think is best.. But the Bible tells us opposite.

"The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?" - Jeremiah 17:9

"For out of the heart come evil thoughts--murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false testimony, slander." - Matthew 15:19

We can't always trust our feelings.  They can be deceitful and evil without us recognizing it.  What we can trust, no matter how we are feeling is God's Word.

"Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away." - Luke 21:33, Matthew 24:35, Mark 13:31

Wow.. important enough to restate three times... HIS WORD WILL NOT PASS AWAY and that means we can trust it to ALWAYS be true.  And what does it tell us when we feel like God doesn't care and is far away?  Well firstly it tell us over and over and over how carefully and with specific plans God created us.  How he loves us so unconditionally and unstoppably (that's actually a word!), and how he wants us to come to him.

"Come close to God, and God will come close to you." - James 4:8a

The verse goes on to tell us how to come closer to God.. We are to wash our hands of sin (and wash them physically of germs.. but that parts not biblical... just good hygiene :P), purify our hearts, and stop being divided between the world and God.

God doesn't write you off. I mean, if David, who committed most of those evil things in Matthew 15:19 turned back to the Lord continually, and God still named David the one after God's own heart... well I don't know about you, but that makes me feel a whole lot better when I feel like God is casting me off.. His Word reminds us that he's calling us in, not casting us off. I can imagine God saying..

Come near to me, dear one.  Wash your hands, purify your heart, and set your mind on me. I can't wait until you let me draw near to you.

"Oh, send out your light and your truth! Let them lead me..." -- In Proverbs it tells us countless times to seek truth and wisdom and understanding.. but what I love about this part of the verse is the verse it connects with.. 

John 1:5 "The light shines in the darkness and the darkness can never extinguish it."

David knew that the only spark of hope in a dark, dark place was God's light. The same holds true to us.  No matter WHAT we are going through, from something seemingly small, to things so big we could've never imagined them, darkness will never be able to put out God's light.  And more so, the light let's you see.  I know you're thinking.. well, duh.  Bear with me here, and trust me, I'm not on any percocet today :P  The light lets you see things otherwise hidden in darkness... In other words, the light exposes the truth.  How often do I ask God to send me his light and truth and let them guide me?  That's the best kind of guide someone could have.. and yet.. do I ask, or do I wander around in the darkness, without seeing, without truth.. without a guide?

"Then I will go to the altar of God, To God my exceeding joy; And on the harp I will praise You, O God, my God." -- TRUST HIM, then PRAISE HIM! David was SO confident that God would rescue him, he started making plans of praising God before anything had even changed yet!  How awesome is that, and talk about hope!  He's already feeling more joyful because of the hope promised in God.  Trust God.. he goes way beyond our expectations.

"Why are you cast down, O my soul? And why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; For I shall yet praise Him, The help of my countenance and my God." --So... he just started feeling a little better.. talking about praising God and being joyful.. and then goes back to how his soul is down cast.. sometimes just in our humanness, our emotions don't make sense.. and it's ok.  It's ok to be sad sometimes for a good reason, or for no reason at all. The part that isn't ok is if you stay there.  It's so easy to throw a pity party or start snowballing into negativity (trust me.. i could build 98674 snowmen with all the snowballs i've accumulated) but David didn't.  He spoke the truth about how he was feeling.. "cast down.. disquieted".  What are your true feelings?  Sadness, depression, joyfulness, discontentedness..etc?  Whatever it is.. it's ok to feel that.. but don't forget the most important part trailing behind that.. "Hope in God; For I shall yet praise Him, the help of my countenance and my God" .. HOPE! He will never leave you nor betray you, he thinks about you more than there are grains of sand, he knit you together, he LOVES you! and he knows these crazy emotions happen.. but he wants you to HOPE in him. PRAISE! Praise him! (that one doesn't really need more explanation.. pretty flat out there..) HELP! Let him help you, he is so eager to come to your rescue. "MY GOD" -- Let him be your God. Walk with him, talk with him, let him be your friend.. I promise he'll be the best one you ever have.

Thank you, Lord for using David as an example of how you love us even when we make the wrong decisions or don't live up to who we think we should be.  And thank you, Lord for light in the darkness, for your hope.

My God is a vindicator, a helper and a hope giver because God is love.

poemmmmmm

You knit me together to be made to be like you
I'm just a blurry reflection, pretty distorted, too.
But you still love me in all my mistakes
You still heal my heart when I cause my own breaks.
O Lord, how you delight in me.
I love, O Lord, how you fight for me.

I'm growing up but not sure who I am
Sometimes I know the right thing to do, but it's hard to take a stand.
And even when I choose to make the wrong choice,
I can still hear you calling me with your still, quiet voice.

And on those days when I didn't have enough breath to pray,
I didn't say a word, but you stayed by me anyway.
The days got increasingly worse, but you remained my hope
You became my boundary when I started down a slippery slope.

Then it was time for life support, the machines beeping all around
In my distress I cried out for your rescue, and you heard me without sound.
The docs were doing all the could, but lungs they couldn't find
But for my survival, Lord, you kept yourself on my mind.

You didn't let me quit,
Kept my body just strong enough,
And even though I took quite a hit,
Turns out you made me pretty tough.

What was 13 days felt like forever
All the while, we were together
But really, I couldn't handle any more of ecmo and trach,
Please do something!  How much longer would this take?

But then we got the call, and YES was all we could say,
Before we knew it I was being prepped, the lungs were really on their way.
You reminded me of your promises, and how you hold them true.
And now I can finally breathe, and it's all because of You.
O Lord, how you delight in me.


I love, O Lord, how you fight for me.

Rise and shine!

As you can imagine, getting a double lung transplant is a pretttyyy hefty surgery.  Not to freak anyone out -- so if you get freaked easily skip this next sentence.  

My core was literally cracked open.  Two of my vital organs were taken out and replaced. I woke up with 6 chest tubes, and 8 port IV stemming out of my neck, and A LOT of staples holding me back together as if I'd been cut in half, which essentially, I was.  But the point was I woke up.  And JUST like God, He not only held true to his promises, but loves to give in abundance.. and here's the story of post transplant: waking up and how the Lord fought for me.

Post transplant, you're supposed to be knocked out/sleeping for 48 hours after surgery.  I had asked my family/close friends (but really, they are family, too) to read Scriptures and sing praise songs in my room after I was out of surgery -- I can't tell you if they did or not cause I was prettyyyy knocked out haha. At 5AM my mom decided that she was going to go home, shower and rest up a little while because I wasn't even going to be conscious for 2 days.  She and my family/friends went in to see me before she left, my mom told the nurse her plan, and wanting to be reassured said "because she won't be awake for another 2 days."  The nurses response came as a bit of a surprise when she replied "Oh no.  She's already starting to wake. I expect her to be awake by 11 or 12."  And sure enough, 16-17 hours after I went into surgery, I was awake.  When I woke up, I remember asking my the nurse to call my mom, and before I knew it, that cheery, familiar and comforting face like none other appeared in my ICU room.  I told my mom I was bored, I wanted to come off the vent, and I wanted to get up and do something.

27 hours after I went into surgery, the doctors very skeptically let me come off the vent and on trach collar, because after all, I was still supposed to be sleeping. I was allowed to come off for an hour, then was supposed to go back on. But when the hour passed, I didn't want to go back on, and didn't need to.  This pattern of agreeing to go back on in an hour or two but then refusing/not needing to continued through the night.. and I never went back on the vent. 

I. Love. This.

There's nothing that we could do in prep, or during surgery, or afterwards that could make my body heal so quickly like that. 

The Lord holds true to his promises. And gives in abundance.

"The Lord will fight for you, you need only be still." Exodus 14:14

The Lord woke me, kept my vitals wonderful, and made my lungs breath on their own sooner than anyone could have imagined; the Lord blew minds; the Lord fought for me.. because God is love.

THE night.

The man came back and told us, unfortunately these lungs weren't good for me...

----Before I could even begin to feel anything about this, God shielded my heart and the Holy Spirit reminded me -- I AM giving you lungs, don't get distracted like the Israelites, don't trip over the speed bumps because it's just a tactic the enemy uses to divert us from God.. I honestly felt like the enemy was just trying to get in any last stab and jab he could before God rescued me -- because just like the Israelites, God planned on bringing me through the whole time.

Back to the man standing in my room... Before he even finished his whole sentence, his beeper went off and he told us that we had ANOTHER offer - and he was going to leave right now to check them out. He told me he wants to get these lungs for me, but he's not going to accept them just to accept them.. he wants me to have GOOD lungs and with the most seriousness and sincerity anyone has ever spoken to me before he told me "I'm doing my best to get you good lungs."

Again, I went back to sleep -- almost in bliss. You neverrrr hear of people getting 2 offers within the same day.. or at least I never have, and i layed there feeling God in action on my behalf.  I asked God for the nurses to let me skip my chest therapy and physical therapy for that day because it was just so painful and hard to do them, and i felt like why should I go through all that just to get new lungs? I only told this to God and my mom.. and sure enough the nurse walks in and says I don't have to do CT or PT that day. THANK YOU, LORD! I just felt like he was setting everything up to finally finish this, and let me tell you... it was such a nice feeling.

Most of the day went by, and the next thing I know, my nurse Sarah comes in smiling and says -- they're yours. I couldn't believe it! People started flooding my room, detaching and reattaching tubings and machines and IVs and starting me on pre-surgery meds.. it was all so chaotic, and yet all so peaceful at the same time. I wasn't scared at all. It was like I was in this cloud, this euphoria,just watching everyone around me hussle about.. but as for me.. I just smiled knowing I was going to finish the race.. Soon.. I would breathe.  Really the only way I can describe it:  Isaiah 26:3 -- "You will keep in perfect peace all who trust in you, all whose thoughts are fixed on you!" -- I was about to go for one of the most hardcore surgeries there are.. and yet, I was in perfect peace.


They took me out, and I mouthed to my family (minus my dad) "Pray for me" and just layed back and relaxed. I got into the OR and my surgeon was there, which only added to my peacefulness. He stood right infront of me so I could see and hear him clearly. They had to put in an arterial IV before they knocked me out -- but mind you, my veins were basically shot at that point. So I had both my arms stretched out to the sides -- one guy working on gettin an IV in each arm, and two guys down at my feet trying to get a leg IV -- I honestly didn't even feel a thing. Suddenly my Dr. says "Hang on, Emily has to see one more person.." and in comes my dad! He wasn't able to get to the hospital fast enough to see me off, so they found him, literally ran him to the OR prep room, got him dressed and brought him in so he could see and pray with me before i went under. That's the last thing I remember until I woke up..

...with new lungs.

"..But those who trust in the LORD will renew their strength, they'll soar high with wings like eagles, they'll run and not grow weary, they'll walk and not faint." Isaiah 40:31 -- that's the verse God spoke to me when we first started pursuing transplant. He told me "I'm literally going to do this for you."  And the night of July 31, 2013, I got to see the Word of God alive and active (Hebrews 4:12) like I've never seen before.

God put his promise into action and lungs in my chest because God is love.

the break down, the break through.

Not going to lie, the whole life-support time I was a little depressey.  All I could do was sit and think , which is never a good thing for me, and every time something improved, or went well/smoothly.. there was always something else to come right after that was added to the trauma.  I eventually started missing out on the blessings God gave me because I was already trying to brace myself for what bad was going to follow..  NOT the way God wants us to live.. and TOTALLY the way to get depressed -- fast.

I love how God's Spirit lives in me though, not through my own work, but through the grace and salvation of Jesus.  He promised that a Counselor and Comforter would come be with us, and in those moments when I totally lost myself, His Spirit still clung to me and any smile, or hint of joy, was solely His Spirit shining through my darkness. 

Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I think I handled everything relatively well considering the circumstances (again.. only bc of God), but after being on the 3 life supports for 11 days, I lost it.  The 11th night, I just sobbed out to God like I never have and wonder if I ever will again.  Remind you, I couldn't actually make any sounds because of the trach, even crying sounds and certainly couldn't speak -- but that night, I was so upset that there was such a pressure build up inside my body, you could hear me cry, and even hear my words to God.. At that point, I really was neutral about living or dying, I just needed God to do one or the other because I couldn't take it anymore. (not sure if i wrote about this already.. if i did.. my bad!)  And i cried, and cried, and told God exactly how i felt -- I KNEW he could get me lungs, and i KNEW he could even just heal me right there... but he was choosing not to do either and I didn't know why.  I didn't know why he was allowing me to need machines to support me, with seemingly no light at the end of the tunnel getting any nearer. God.. just do SOMETHING!

And that was one of the nights He spoke to my heart again.

So compassionately he said "Just a little while longer.. Just wait until the prayer meeting."

I wasn't thrilled with the answer, obviously, but how could I not calm down when his comfort is so peaceful, and loving, and indescribeable.

2 days later, my 13th day on life support, there was a prayer meeting at two different churches that sought out God and fervently prayed for my rescue, for my relief, for my new lungs.  4 hours after they finished praying, we got the first call for potential lungs.

I KNEW this was the night! It had to be! And surprisingly, I just relaxed and went to sleep while waiting to hear back if the lungs were a good match.  But before I did,  I had to meet an anesthesiologist (did i spell that correctly?), sign some consent forms, and talk to God.  All I kept praying was "God, just like you brought the Israelites ALL the way through when you parted the Red Sea.. bring us ALL the way through tonight."

God put his armor on me that night.  There were so many things worry about including a respone that the lungs aren't a good match for me, or arent good at all (which unfortunately is very common to hear on your first, second and sometimes even more calls for lungs), and yet he reminded me of the Israelites when they were being chased by Pharoah (again.. spelling?).  God intended on parting that Red Sea and bringing them all to safety the WHOLE time!  But they got distracted, took their focus off of the God who just triumphed and demolished their days of slavery, and instead panicked.  THEY caused themselves unneccessary worry.. THEY made themselves miserable, and scared, and put THEMSELVES through a situation, and emotional draining, that never needed to occur because God was going to save them whether they worried or not.. but how much nicer would it be if they had trusted God rather than worried? (although I can totally see why they did haha) And that's what God was telling me and protecting me from on transplant night.  "Don't even entertain the idea that you're not getting lungs tonight" and so I didn't.  I just kept praying "Bring us all the way through.. bring us all the way through.."


It made me so aware that sometimes God's blessings amidst the storm are missed because I stop looking at him.  He brought the peace and calmness and I traded it in to worry.  But with transplant.. he reminded me -- THE WHOLE TIME he knew he was going to bring me all the way through.  The whole time.. even in my doubt, even when it looked reallyyy grim to everyone, even when i wasn't nice to God, he was setting everything up for my rescue.  Know that God is for you.  And know that even amidst the storm, his blessings rain down harder.. but it's our choice whether to get soaked in blessings, or start to drown in wavey trials.. Which will you choose?



"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD. "Plans for good, and not for evil. Plans to give you a hope and a future. In those days when you pray, I will listen.  If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find me. I will be found by you," says the LORD. "I will end your captivity and restore your fortunes." Jeremiah 29:11-14

God had a plan to give me hope, a future, an end to suffering, and a great restoration the whole time because God is love.

nothing but the blood...

So.. one of the challenges of the ecmo was the it basically took most of my blood out of my body, oxygenated it and put it back.. but I guess because the majority of my blood was outside of my body getting the oxygen, the blood I had left in me wasn't enough.. so I ended up needing a blood transfusion. (Disclaimer: I'm not actually sure if that's the reason haha but it makes sense to me, so that's what I'm going with.)

Needing the transfusion explained my chills, and the reason that I was more exhausted and had less strength than before.  The problems with getting a transfusion:


-- It complicates the donor selection process.. making my donors even more limited.
-- the blood transfusion can't go through my regular IV (my port) so they'd have to access another vein for an IV .. and my veins are tiny to begin with.. and now they are lacking blood .. wasn't going to be good.

So anyway, God is nice (why should I be surprised?) and they numbed up my arm pretty hardcore, and tried to put in a mid-line -- which is basically a sturdier, longer lasting IV -- unsuccessfully.  Then they decided to try to put an IV in my ankle because frankly there weren't a lot of options left to try for.  I laid there trying to hold still the best I could while one of my sisters in Christ held her phone next to me just replaying a God song that really helped to calm me.  (Thank you, Patti!  I'm impressed at how long you could hold your arm up! haha!)  Praying, and singing, and trying to fight off panic attacks, God opened up that tiny vein, and they quickly set up my transfusion, and I definitely felt the improvement of it the next day. 

At the time I was too tired and sick to feel how scary this really was.  I was obviously a priority patient for procuring (getting) lungs for because of how sick I was, and we hadn't received one single call.. not ANY potentials even.. and now we are putting another limit on the lungs that I can receive.. the possibility of getting lungs, at least to me, seemed to just be getting dimmer and dimmer.

Obviously we know that darkness was completely overwhelmed by the Light.  Thank You, Jesus!

Anyway, I needed two blood transfusions -- one before transplant, and one after. Yesterday at the store, the clerk was wearing a shirt that said "donate blood" so I asked him if he had donated blood.  He told me he had and I thanked him, telling him that a blood donor saved my life and I've had two blood transfusions..
This is one of the things that is slowly coming around to me about transplant.  Everything was SUCH a big deal that I'm still just now getting around to feeling the impact and realizing what happened.

A blood donor helped save my life.  I needed blood, and without it, I wouldn't have made it to transplant.  So to all of you who donate blood and take it lightly; don't.  You don't know how much of an impact this simple act has made upon someone -- you are literally donating blood to save lives.  Who knows, maybe it's even one of you who saved mine. All I can say is thank you..

And then I got to thinking even more... A blood donor saved my life.  Jesus is the first blood donor.. I know we hear this cliché all the time haha but that doesn't make it any less true.  Needing transfusions really hit me hard and I am SO thankful for the person who decided to donate their blood one day.. Like really thankful, to the point of tears.  And then I thought..  my salvation is SO much greater than anything on this earth.. this whole situation has made me realize how lightly I take my salvation without even knowing, and how gracious God is to us to not only keep saving us, but also to gently remind us how grand our salvation through Jesus Christ is.. which I still can't comprehend fully.

So thankful tonight (and every night) for my blood donors, and for the very first blood donor.

I've been saved physically through my donor's blood, and saved completely through Jesus' because God is love. <3

Mission impossible

Sorry I have been off my blogging-game.. but now that I can actually do some things, the computer takes the back-burner :P 

Anyway, so I left off at being on ECMO & trach/vent.

Ahh.. the ecmo days... where every single day felt like it drabbed on... when it was finally night, I couldn't sleep anyway, and every single day was almost exactly the same.. the only difference was each day seemed slightly (some days greatly) harder than the previous, and each day seemed to have a new problem.. it was almost like the days were competing with one another as to which day would be worse.

I had to "exercise".  The first day of my PT (physical therapy) the therapist just wanted to get me out of bed and sit in a chair which was maybe 3 steps from the bed.  Seems easy enough.. except they had to rewire all the contraptions that were hooked up to me, move around machines, and literally pull me up to a sitting position before I could even think about getting my feet on the ground.  Let's just say... the first day wasn't my favorite.  Not that ANY of the days were particularly on my "good times list", but the first day I barely made it to the chair -- and I felt super sick once I got there, only to need to return to the bed shortly after, and still feel sicker than before I had gotten up.  So not only did I feel miserable, but I felt like I didn't accomplish what I was supposed to.. and for me.. that's a really huge deal. 

That night I got chills and started shaking like my bed was on some kind of vibration mode.  I had gotten a fever.  Thankfully I was too tired and in-and-out of it to worry that much about it because they say if you have a fever, you can't get transplanted, so of course it was a concern that THAT night would be when the call came for my lungs, and we would possibly have to reject it.  God saved me the heartache of that.  The next day they didn't make me "exercise", thank You, God! lol that day might have been one of the only days when the therapist saw me smile as I happily told him that I wasn't allowed to exercise that day.  The day after, however, was a different story.  My temperature had only gone down to 102, my blood sugar just read "high" on the meter (meaning it was too high for the meter to calculate), but regardless -- I was told it was time to get back on my feet.. and this was truly the strength of God --- it took eleven adults, mostly men, to get me out of the bed, hold all my tubes, rewire everything, connect my trach to a portable system, and move my ecmo and vent machines -- but I WALKED!  And JUST like God.. he never gives the minimum but always in abundance -- I walked 340 feet!! ON 2 DIFFERENT FORMS OF LIFE SUPPORT, WITH AN EXTREMELY HIGH BLOOD SUGAR, AND A HIGH FEVER! 

Needless to say, even though my body physically felt awful still, I at least felt accomplished.. AND I became a celebrity amongst the MICU hahah!  Doctors I didn't even know were popping in to say "we heard you're the girl who walked 340 ft!"  Not only that, it showed my new doctors, who had only just met me, that I'm a fighter and not slacking off when they tell me this will help me.. but most importantly.. it showed my doctors, and doctors who weren't even mine, and patients, and anyone else who heard about it, that my GOD is STRONG!  He can make the blind men see and the deaf man hear, and (sorry if this statement upsets anyone), while my body was dying, His Spirit trumped over that and gave me strength to not only do what was required, but to OVER achieve.  My body was drained but His Spirit was overflowing.

Seriously... how nice is our God? 
 
Not only that, the guy who was pushing my portable vent machine found the perfect setting for me which made my breathing a lot more comfortable than the previous setting! (Thank you, Paul from MICU-B!) 

Peter walked on water in storm.  He literally did something impossible because Jesus gave him the ability to. Now I didn't walk on water, obviously...(I wasn't even allowed to drink water, let alone try to walk on it :P) but walking 340ft with an entire entourage while your body is dying.. I'd say that's pretty close to impossible.. but then again..

"Nothing is impossible with God."
               Luke 1:37

I did the impossible that day because God is love.

(And just wait.. more crazy, seemingly-impossible things are to come :) )

Moments and miles

We will continue with specific transplant stories after these short messages.

So I was listening to "Not for a Moment" by Meredith Andrews.. and that is basically the soundtrack for my life... well one of the soundtracks at least. 

I was thinking of all the ways God blessed and brought me through transplant (or at least trying to.. there's so much He did that I can't remember everything!  Add that to the stuff I don't even know about.. WOW) and it occurred to me...

"You were singing in the dark, whispering Your promise even when I could not hear."
That basically describes transplant.. hahah this would have been good in my last post -- about God holding onto me even when I wasn't holding on back. I love it.. I love that God keeps knocking and persuing us even when we don't respond.  He knows our hearts and He knows what will bring us joy.  (If you haven't responded to his knocking yet, do it!  Trust me.. it's a lot better to do it sooner rather than later.)

"I was held in Your arms, carried for a thousand miles to show not for a moment will You forsake me."
I have been battling cystic fibrosis my entire life -- 23 (almost 24!) years. There was sooooo much that led up to transplant. It wasn't just these past months, but 23 years and 11 months worth of God holding me in his arms, not for even a moment forsaking me.

I did not like my pre-transplant hospital experience at all.  I keep using the word traumatizing when I talk about it.  But God gave me the victory over that!  Now I can stand here and say (or technically at this moment, sit here and type :P) that He carried me the thousand miles, and I hope that it does show everyone that not for a moment will God forsake his children.  "Even in the dark, even when it's hard, You will never leave."  It may be hard.  Maybe the hardest thing you've ever done (I know mine was).. but He never left, and He's not leaving now (or ever).  And when you come out of whatever you're going through, (and you ARE going THROUGH.. not staying there) praise Him!  I loved what someone said to me -- That God and I have a history.. and this was just going to be added to our memories of all the things He brought me through, and all our time together.  Think about it.. Having a history with someone usually means a stronger, more in depth relationship with them.  Who do you have more of a history with than the One who formed your head and counted your hairs, molded your hands and feet, and to this day pumps every beat of your heart?  If you answered "no one" then BING BING BING you are correct!  

I know this is short (well shorter than usual), random and a little blabby..but I like it. (wait, did I just describe myself? no wonder I like it :P) 

What are some of yours and God's miles together?  If you ask Him to help you think of some, no doubt your heart will be filled.

I have 23 years and 11 months worth of miles and victories with Jesus because God is love.

Ice chips.

While I was in the hospital, a friend sent me a nice little care package of activities to do, along with a poster.  The poster had a verse on it, and the picture behind the Word was a beautiful mini waterfall rushing into a sparkling clear spring.  It was beautiful.  We hung it exactly where I could see it, and it was always in my view.  (Thanks Catherine Langhoff!) 

Having a trach meant that I needed to take a swallow test before I could eat or drink.  In order to qualify to take this test, you had to be on "trach collar" which basically meant that you weren't hooked up to a vent, you only had a little oxygen mask over your trach.  After being on the vent, I was able to come off and be on trach collar, and was able to take the test!  There were two parts to the test - one for liquids and one for solid food. After taking the one for liquids, I had to wait 24 hours for results.  With excitement of possibly being able to finally drink something the next day, my little lungs just couldn't work that hard anymore, and I was put back on the vent --- aka .. no drinks in my near future.  The results came in.. I passed.  I could drink something --- if I wasn't on the vent...

I was so upset.  My mouth and throat had reached a new level of dryness that makes a desert seem like the ocean.  I was so close to having a drink and now I was so far.  I was already not myself from being on the ECMO and trach for awhile at this point, and I was feeling pretty bla- of course physically, but what was worse was spiritually.  The only way I can describe it is that God was still holding onto me, but I wasn't holding back.  I wanted to, but at this point, my attitude had started sliding into the neutral zone -- my emotions had become indifferent.  I just was.  I didn't care either way, except during my panics.  My soul wanted Jesus, but my body didn't care.  This made me feel guilty too.  He was doing so much and I just didn't even want to talk to him.  I made myself pray anyway.  I can't remember exactly, but in short (even though it was probably the shortest prayer ever to begin with) I apologized for not holding onto him, thanked him for holding on to me, and desperately asked that he wouldn't let go.  He confirmed his compassion and love, and that he'll never ever let go of me.  But who knew he would do it through ice chips?

 I was allowed to crunch on ice chips because they trusted me that I wouldn't swallow them, and I didn't.  They brought me my first cup of ice chips and handed me a little suction thing -- like they have at the dentist -- to be able to slurp up the water.  My hand slowly reached up and grasped the cold, Styrofoam cup full of ice chips.  If you were ever to describe something as mouth watering, that was the time.  They just looked so pretty -- clear ovals with sparkling ridges from the frost of the ice machine, I kid you not, they resembled crystals.  I picked one up, put it in my mouth, and CRUNCHED!  Immediately it burst, filling my mouth with cold water and pieces of ice.  And as I enjoyed this eruption of refreshment, my eyes were focused on the beautiful poster hanging in front of me.  I closed my eyes and imagined all the wonderful enjoyments of water.  I pictured that same waterfall and spring from the poster.. but this time I was in it.  The water would was so clear, and felt so nice as it just glided across my skin and through my hair.  I could drink it, too.  It was cool, and for lack of better term, refreshing as it ran down my throat, quenching all my thirst as I felt its briskness, and tasted its pureness.  With every ice chip I put in my mouth (and then suctioned out.. don't worry, people.. still followed the rules while I was day dreaming!) I imagined this over, and over.  And before I could open my eyes again, God reminded me that HE is the Living Water. 

John 4:13-14 “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”


John 7:37-39 "On the last and greatest day of the festival, Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, "Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink.  Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them.”  By this he meant the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were later to receive."

And it just made me think.. if an ICE CHIP brings such relief, what does God bring?  If water is so enjoyable, what is God?  God is more.  I can't tell you exactly what he is because my mind can only grasp ice chips and water.


Isaiah 64:4 "Since ancient times no one has heard,
                  no ear has perceived,
                  no eye has seen any God besides you,
                  who acts on behalf of those who wait for him"

1 Corinthians 2:9 "However, as it is written:

                          “What no eye has seen,
                          what no ear has heard,
                          and what no human mind has conceived”—
                          the things God has prepared for those who love him—"

 

But I can tell you one of the things he is -- My God is my refreshment.  My God is the Living Water.  And for every panic attack, every bad dream, every procedure or potential scare that day.. I just repeated "I found my Living Water" and just like when I crunched that ice chip, something burst into my being, except this time it was the safety and comfort of Jesus Christ - My Redeemer... My Refresher... My Living Water.
 

 My God can even use ice chips to comfort me because God is love.

When the drugs wore off...

So.. I woke up for real this time, was unstrapped (apparently I was a risk of pulling everything out while under the anesthesia), and was told that I couldn't move my head around because the ECMO tubes, which were basically two garden hoses coming out my neck, needed to remain in a certain position.  Also, I couldn't talk.  Even if I tried.  The trach and vent didn't allow air to get to my vocal chords.  So here I am.. freshly awake.. can't move.. and can't communicate.  The drugs had worn off.. and they're talking about scary things like being suctioned (sorry for the grossness) and hooking things up to my port.  I like to know what's going on.. I like to ask what meds are going in.. I like to understand what's happening.  And now I couldn't because I couldn't talk, and apparently I'm not too great and mouthing words for others to lip read.  It's safe to say that at this point, the honeymoon phase of the trach/ECMO duo was completely over. 

This part of my journey was the longest, and hardest.  I hated the trach.  I regretted it so much.  It was scary.  I hated the ECMO.  I couldn't move around.  And yet, it wasn't until I experienced them that I realized what the doctor was talking about when he attempted to explain why I needed this tag-team.

DONT read this next paragraph if you get skeeved easily -- it's kinda gross.

My lungs were just too full of infected mucus.. there's absolutely no way that I would have bee able to cough out that mucus myself.  On the trach, they can suction it out, and they did.  They can't suction it all, but they got more than I would ever have been able to cough out on my own.. a step in saving my life.  The trach also allowed for me to be on a ventilator without having a contraption hooked up in my mouth down my throat.  So basically I was breathing through the vent, which was through the trach, which is the same place they suction from.  They can't suction through a vent, so when it came time to suction, which was very often, especially in the beginning, they took the vent off for the few seconds they suctioned, replaced the vent, gave me a minute, took the vent off, suctioned, replaced.. etc.  I know it was only a few seconds.. but I literally couldn't breathe those few seconds the vent was off.. which leads to ECMO.
Even though I couldn't breathe.. my body was still "breathing" because I was hooked up to the ECMO.. that brought some comfort in those many, many panicked moments of feeling like I couldn't breathe.. but not THAT much comfort... hahaha
Suctioning hurt a lot.. especially in the beginning.  I got more used to it the more we did it.. which was a lottttt.  It scared me that I didn't even have control over clearing my own cough anymore, and that something as simple as that.. something I did everyday of my life.. was now in the hands of someone else.  I was completely dependent on other people to move, to cough, to breathe, to eat (couldn't eat through my mouth so I was getting food through my stomache tube), to go to the bathroom, everything.

I learned to have to small notebook and pen with me at ALL times so I could write down what I was trying to say.  That's probably what bothered me most.. not being able to communicate.  That scared me most of all... I could try and try to mouth what I was trying to say but it wasn't always a successful delivery.  And I was tired.. I could only try so many times.  I'll tell you this.. and I'm like crying as I type this.. Thank God for my parents.  Besides Jesus and my salvation, they are my biggest blessings in life.  They stayed with me, and advocated for me, and tried their very hardest, in their exhaustion and soreness and hunger, to keep me the "head of the team"; trying to lip-read, dealing with my frustration and undeserved attitudes, trying to make me the most comfortable I could be - knowing that comfort would never be achieved, putting on their best and most cheery attitudes even though I'm positive that's not how they were feeling just to try to brighten my day, and staying with me.. sleeping in hard chairs and waking up once they'd finally fallen asleep to help me with something..  If that's the love my parents have for me.. I can't even imagine how grand God's love is for us.  Thank you, God, for giving me such a good glimpse of it, because without my parents, I would not have made it through this.

I'll go into some short ECMO stories in the next couple blogs.. but I want to leave with this.. When I couldn't communicate with anyone.. When I was panicking because I didn't know what they were doing, and scared every single time that I needed suction, there was One that I was never cut off from.  Jesus Christ held onto me this entire time -- He even planned it out for it to work out for my good, and every time I was screaming silently, he heard it, and he held me a little tighter.

God always heard my silent voice because God is love.

Transplant: Well Hello ECMO

So... bi-pap worked for a few days but the next thing I knew here came the doctors walking into my little cubicle room again.  Bi-pap worked, but not enough and it was time to make a move with ECMO.  They wanted to put it in that day because as the doctor explained to me, "old people run and run and then start to slow down before they crash.. young people run and run and run and then crash... there's no way to tell before they go off the cliff."  We talked and I knew it was the right decision, although I didn't voice that to anyone else yet.  Before I could be the responsible adult that I am and tell everyone I decided to do the right thing and get ECMO, another doctor came in and told me I also needed to get a trach. 

Ok.. Rewind two days before -- my mom and I were talking.. we must have seen some smoking commercial or something with someone having a trach because somehow that topic came up.  Because of the severity of CF, it was decided years ago that if an instance came up that I can't communicate for myself, my parents make my medical decisions for me. And TWO DAYS before the doctor informed me I needed a trach this is what I said.. "Mom, I never want a trach.  If they ever want to put a trach in me, say no."

And now here I am being faced with the one procedure I said I never wanted.  It was a lot to handle and so I whipped out my phone right away and texted MY doctor who came in as soon as she could and explained to me why this was the best choice.  We made the decision to go for both the ECMO and the dreaded trach.

 I can't remember being prepped for surgery or going in or anything.  I DO remember waking up just for a second after surgery.  I opened my eyes and I didn't feel like I was working to breathe.  Actually.. I really didn't think I was breathing.. It was like I was living without having to breathe.. So of course I asked -- Am I breathing?  Now if you were me, this was a legit question but everyone else thought it was funny.  They told me I was and all I could say was "It's nice."

ECMO and the trach which was hooked up to a vent were breathing for me.  That combined with the wonderful drugs they gave me to knock me out and for pain made that hospital bed so comfortable, so I just closed my eyes and went back to sleep... breathing - maybe not in the traditional sense of using your lungs and all but as it turns out I'm not that traditional. 

 Fun fact - not every hospital has ECMO -- in fact.. most places don't know what it is.. But I can tell you what it is.  It's the machine that ended up saving my life. (ok, ok.. the trach was part of the life saving too as much as I hate to admit that).  It's no surprise to me that God sent us to NY Presbyterian Hospital.. because even before Jesus saved my life the first time, he knew he'd save it again through this machine.

I had my first life saving operation that day because God is love.

Transplant: This is how it starts...

Helllooo!  So I want to blog my transplant experience.  For those of you who don't know, I received a double lung transplant on July 31st into August 1 (I went into surgery the night of July 31 and came out the morning of August 1).  But there was sooo much more that happened than my actual transplant, and I thought some people might be interested in reading about it.. and even if no one is, I want to write it anyway to be able to look back and remember every wave of this storm that Jesus brought me through.  The waves, however, didn't seem to end and because this perfect storm is going to be my longest blog ever (and that's saying something!), I'm going to break it into parts and write about a part each day.  I'm debating adding pictures -- nothing gruesome but I don't want to upset anyone.  So if I do add pics, I'll put them at the very bottom with a warning :]

Ok.. Here we go.

Hospital trip round 1 I already blogged about -- it was when my lung was bleeding and I was in ICU and then came home yaya!  Unfortunately about a week or 2 (sorry my times are probably going to be a little off) after being home, my oxygen went very low even with the supplemental oxygen on.  I stood up one day, and my o2 level dropped to 72.  We couldn't get my oxygen to stabilize at a good level, and I needed to go to the hospital.  The problem was that I was now on 18 liters of o2, and the tanks we had wouldn't last long enough for us to get to NY.  Our options were to be admitted to a local hospital, which is dangerous because local hospitals aren't well informed about CF, or go to the local hospital and be transported to NY.  We wanted to just take an ambulance, but they can only bring you to the nearest hospital.  Bah... What to do?  Well, surprise surprise -- enter God.  God blessed me with an amazinggg friend -- June :] she's an EMT and when we started getting serious about waiting for the call for lungs, she set up everything with her squad and got permission from the higher-ups to be able to use once of their "rigs" to transfer me to the hospital should we get the call.  Well, we didn't get the call but we did call June!  June and her squad came to the rescue haha  I was brought to NY in an ambulance with my mom on my right side, and my best friend on my left. What a blessing to have June be doubling - and what I mean by that is I was holding the hand of my best friend and more than capable EMT at the same time. I can't tell you how that relieved so many fears. Thank you God for June, and thank you June <3

My dad followed the ambulance in the car with all our stuff, and something extra.. Johnny! (thanks Johnny <3)  We hung out in the ER for awhile as we waited for an ICU room to open up, and then went to ICU.  Tiny rooms, but I guess I wasn't exactly going to throw a dance party while I couldn't breathe anyway.  I don't know how many days it was until one of the transplant surgeons came to see me.  He and another doctor said I should go on Bi-pap - not a huugeee deal .. but still alarming enough. He also mentioned something called ECMO - and that it was a possibility if the Bi-pap didn't turn things around, but let's try bi-pap first and see what happens.

My nurse Sarah -- who was awesome by the way, showed me pictures of the ECMO machine and explained it a little just so we knew the basics of what it was, but again said -- don't worry over this because we don't even know if you'll need this -- but God knew.. and just like himself, he was sweet.. there were a few times that God spoke to my heart during this trial, and this was the first one. "Brace yourself, because you're going to need this."


I was blessed while being prepared for battle because God is love.