For the first couple of weeks after the heart attack I was euphoric. This, I'm told, is to be expected. Now, the euphoria is gone and I am left with the questions. Don't get me wrong, the thankfulness for another day, another opportunity, another blessing, is still very real for me but I find that I am now wondering "why me?"
Why was I saved? Why am I still here? I feel a need to do something amazing, big, important in response to the amzing, big, and important thing that God has done for me. I find myself feeling like I couldn't possibly be nice enough, love well enough, or serve heartily enough to warrant this gift of time that I've been given.
So, what do I do now? I have prayed for guidance, asked for help from on high, and looked to The Bible for help and I'm still waiting for answers. In the meantime it appears that as any good soldier must, I need to continue on in my last duties till new marching orders are forthcoming.
What I do now is continue to pray for my family, friends, community, and any other needs that present themselves. I continue to write, encourage in both print and in person, I continue to raise my children and serve my community, and I do my best to honor God however I can.
Still, it seems like an awfully small offering in comparison to the gift, but then a gift is free isn't it? God doesn't expect me to earn His favor, nor does He expect me to repay His kindness because there is no way that I could.
God is so gracious friends. He is loving and merciful and His love for us is not dependant on how good or bad we are. And He is an amazing, big, important gift giver too. He desires time with us, relationship with us, and He desires for us to receive the gifts He offers. After all, how sad is a gift that is never received?
Until next time friends,
blessings and peace and love to you all~
Andora Henson, thewritingmommy
Monday, August 5, 2013
Saturday, August 3, 2013
So, I had a heart attack....
I'm 47 years old. I am a survivor of many things. I live with the chronic pain of fibromyalgia and have since 1997. I survived cancer, childhood sexual abuse, foster homes, poverty and homelessness, and well, the list goes one but you get the picture. I have always felt that surviving the many cards I was dealt made me stronger by God's grace, and on July 14, 2013 I added another to my list of crazy things I have lived through.... I survived a heart attack.
It wasn't a big dramatic thing, in fact I wasn't sure it was really a heart attack and waited until the pastor had finished his sermon before I even mentioned anything. I was going to stay for the business meeting that followed till the sweating started again. I told my husband, "I think I may need to go to the hospital." He knew I had been feeling poorly so he gathered the troops and met me at the van where I quickly told him "maybe we should just go home so I can rest." We had an extra child with us since my oldest daughter had a friend stay over the night before and we always met this family at the hospital since it was a middle point between our homes. As we arrived the nausea, chest pains, jaw pain, and profuse sweating began again so since we were at the hospital anyway I decided "I'll just go on in and have this checked out. Just in case..."
About an hour later the E.R. doctor came in and sat down next to the slab I was on that they called a bed and told me " well, it appears that you did indeed have yourself a little heart attack."
My first reaction was to laugh. I don't know why, it just was, but I stifled that reaction so that they wouldn't add insanity to my diagnosis. It still seems surreal.
Since that day I have found that one artery was blocked at 70% and another at 80%. Both have been stented and the prognosis is good as I understand it.
My husband, sisters, family, and friends have been amazing and supportive. I have had days when I felt that this must all have been a dream, days that I felt like I was run over by a truck, really tired days but mostly I have very grateful days. I keep expecting to have more of what I call A.H.A. (after heart attack) moments where I have piercing bouts of insight and wisdom, but I'm still waiting for those. I had one, just one, the Sunday after I got out of the hospital, exactly one week after the heart attack. I was washing the dishes that somehow gather after we all go to bed while waiting for my coffee to brew. I stood looking out of my window over the sink and thought "I'm so grateful that I get to wash my dishes today."
I would like to say that I have not lost my temper since that day but that isn't true. I'd like to say that I take everything with a grain of salt and perspective but even that isn't completely true, while it is more true than before. The truth is more like; I am quicker to remember that it all counts, that I'm so blessed to still be here, and that I have a purpose in God's kingdom or I wouldn't still be here.
I'm still a work in progress, as are we all. And I'm so thankful to still be "in progress".
Blessings and peace to you all,
Andora Henson, thewritingmommy
It wasn't a big dramatic thing, in fact I wasn't sure it was really a heart attack and waited until the pastor had finished his sermon before I even mentioned anything. I was going to stay for the business meeting that followed till the sweating started again. I told my husband, "I think I may need to go to the hospital." He knew I had been feeling poorly so he gathered the troops and met me at the van where I quickly told him "maybe we should just go home so I can rest." We had an extra child with us since my oldest daughter had a friend stay over the night before and we always met this family at the hospital since it was a middle point between our homes. As we arrived the nausea, chest pains, jaw pain, and profuse sweating began again so since we were at the hospital anyway I decided "I'll just go on in and have this checked out. Just in case..."
About an hour later the E.R. doctor came in and sat down next to the slab I was on that they called a bed and told me " well, it appears that you did indeed have yourself a little heart attack."
My first reaction was to laugh. I don't know why, it just was, but I stifled that reaction so that they wouldn't add insanity to my diagnosis. It still seems surreal.
Since that day I have found that one artery was blocked at 70% and another at 80%. Both have been stented and the prognosis is good as I understand it.
My husband, sisters, family, and friends have been amazing and supportive. I have had days when I felt that this must all have been a dream, days that I felt like I was run over by a truck, really tired days but mostly I have very grateful days. I keep expecting to have more of what I call A.H.A. (after heart attack) moments where I have piercing bouts of insight and wisdom, but I'm still waiting for those. I had one, just one, the Sunday after I got out of the hospital, exactly one week after the heart attack. I was washing the dishes that somehow gather after we all go to bed while waiting for my coffee to brew. I stood looking out of my window over the sink and thought "I'm so grateful that I get to wash my dishes today."
I would like to say that I have not lost my temper since that day but that isn't true. I'd like to say that I take everything with a grain of salt and perspective but even that isn't completely true, while it is more true than before. The truth is more like; I am quicker to remember that it all counts, that I'm so blessed to still be here, and that I have a purpose in God's kingdom or I wouldn't still be here.
I'm still a work in progress, as are we all. And I'm so thankful to still be "in progress".
Blessings and peace to you all,
Andora Henson, thewritingmommy
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)