As I approach an incredible milestone on this path I call “My Life”, I wish to call special attention to friends and family I (rather WE) have lost along the way. One should always appreciate and place their focus on the positive; but never do I want the memory of those I have lost to be forgotten. My focus and awe should fall upon the sheer number of miracles and achievements I have been blessed to witness…both magnificent and heartbreaking.

This upcoming milestone is a statistical achievement only my Maker, God Almighty, could deserve credit and praise for its existence. Though both exciting and amazing on many levels, this achievement pales in comparison to another just a little further down the road. Should God see me through this first milestone (as none of us know the number of our days), please be in prayer that my time on this Earth be extended ever so slightly.

Father, please forgive my ignorance and my arrogance. Father, forgive me for wasting so many of the sunrises You have granted me. Lord, You know my broken heart, my broken soul, and my broken life. You know all of my burdens and all of my pain. You have known me before I was in the womb and You know my eternal existence.

Father, to walk my daughter down the wedding aisle to her waiting bridegroom; if broken mind, and broken body be my lot; as a mere mortal this would make my life complete.

However, never interpret my fight to live and serve my Lord as over should He see me to this place and time I desire. Indeed! Countless memories remain I long to share with my wife, children & grandchildren, family, and friends.

Should God grant me the time, physical capacity, mental fortitude, and spiritual strength…my life compass remains pointed towards a particular birthday. That day…that lofty goal of a proud man…I set as the culmination of all the experiences and yearly anniversaries on borrowed time.. A small tick of the clock for God, over the halfway mark for the man who asked.

So much I still have to witness…experience. All the pieces of my human experience lay in the hands of our Father in Heaven, Christ Jesus.

May God bless you all. May you always treat each day as a precious gift. May you live it with love.

—Bill

First, I’d like to thank those who are always praying for me. Then, I’d want you to know that back procedure wasn’t my first…and would not have been my last.

The back procedure had to be postponed. Last Sunday I realized I was experiencing what’s called “aspiration pneumonia”. In my situation, the contents of my stomach (acid & food contents) creep back up my esophagus as I sleep. In December 2019, I underwent a surgical procedure on my stomach to prevent this from happening. However, the sutures holding it all in place have broken loose…and thus I have all the acid reflux (GERD) and stomach contents backing up again. I’ll be having that repaired next month I expect.

I’m on antibiotics for the aspiration pneumonia…and they seem to be working. I’ve had to double-down on the Albuterol nebulizer (I despise that thing as the steroids mess with you both mentally & physically). The albuterol helps open up my lungs…reduce wheezing & phlegm build-up.

If I’m “not” completely cleared up by January 2nd/3rd…my local pulmonologist has agreed (something I requested) to perform a bronchoscopy. My doc sends a camera & other tools up my nose…down the back of my throat…and into my lungs. At this point he can have a look around for anything of substantial size and retrieve it. I’m quite sure he would use the opportunity to grab a small sample of my lung tissue for examination by a pathologist (looking for any other signs of rejection I’m not already experiencing. Essentially…it’s calling in “Roto-Rooter” for my lungs.

As I’m improving on the antibiotics, I really don’t expect the bronchoscopy to happen. I will however be seeing the gastroenterologist here soon. He’ll do a similar procedure…but takes the camera & tools down my esophagus and into my stomach checking out the situation.

That’s all for now. Hope everyone had a Merry Christmas.

 

In about 6 hours I’ll go under anesthesia again…I can’t offer an accurate count due my lack of keeping count. Around 7:10am, I’m scheduled to undergo what’s called a “Medial Branch Block” or “MBB”. I’ll receive a cocktail of anesthesia drugs injected into the nerves running down my spine to the left and right of the spinal cord. These nerves are the ones that provide the sensation in your spine. For example, if you were lifting a 50 lb. bag of dog food…those nerves would tell you to put it down if the weight was too much to handle.

In my situation, the MBB procedure is just a phase of injections to determine if the locations offer a short period of pain relief along the injection sites. If the MBB injections prove effective…the next phase is called “Radio Frequency Ablation” or “RFA”. The same nerve locations from the MBB will now be heated (well…cooked) in order to prevent pain signals in the target areas from ever reaching the brain.

The MBB/RFA procedures must be repeated about every six months…as the nerves heal and the pain sensation returns.

Today, my new pain management doctor (more on that story later) will be injecting the nerves between levels L3 (lumbar) down to S1 (sacral). If the MBB is successful…sometime between 10~14 days later I’ll go back for the RFA procedure.

All of this work is performed using a fluoroscope…kind of like a real-time X-ray. From the time I walk in the door…until I’m wheeled out to our vehicle…an hour has typically ticked along on the clock.

I’m given a little lidocaine and Propofal via IV for a little nap while I’m having needles stuck into my spine. That part I appreciate dearly. I can’t imagine being able to remain still if I was conscious.

My thoughts are on the blessings I have access to this level of medicine. I’m a very blessed man and husband. If not for the incredible amount of work my wife performs…this incredible pain relief mechanism would never exist. I thank you Heather and my God for these blessings.

Hindsight.

How its presence looms large in our lives. Its capacity being that of a wise teacher…for when we fail and even when we succeed. Hindsight offers the opportunity to look back upon our actions (in seasons past or present)…and learn something no matter the situation.

So, you’re asking, what does hindsight have to do with seasons? Well, the seasons I wish to write about exist in two realms.  The first, and most obvious, are the seasons we delineate on our calendars. The second, these are the seasons of our lives. Childhood that leads us into those difficult teenage years. Young ambitious adults transforming (we always hope) into spouses, parents, and yes…leaders and teachers passing along stories of their own seasons. There’s a season for those fortunate souls whose dreams of retirement and daily life on their terms come to fruition. And our final season, with manner and time be damned, exists as one of humanity’s thoroughly inevitable tragedies.

The current calendar season and the season of my life seem to have had a head-on collision. Parts of this collision exists as interesting statistics while another leaves me heart broken.

This season of life and calendar procured the means to remove a friend from my life. If you encountered this friend, you would witness a normal healthy lookin person. Inside however, my friend is in pain (in all manners)…and truly in need of help exceeding anything my seasons of knowledge could ever touch. Guilt now engulfs my soul as I relive the “unsolicited advice” encounters and the explosive reactions they would illicit. My concern for the health of my friend, my self-declared wisdom (hindsight) garnered over many seasons of life, and the unfounded belief my friend respected me as a mentor, convinced me I had the right to offer advice. Contrarily I would drive a wedge between the two of us. Hindsight has since convinced me…my words should have remained inside my mouth…unspoken. This friendship…I had established what I believed a fatherly position, as a source of knowledge and assistance, proved grossly inaccurate. The cliche says, “Time heals all wounds.” I hope and pray this is “Truth” and not simply “Urban Legend.” This division hurts in ways people should never hurt. Not a soul on this planet has the capacity to force someone to seek help in a genuine manner. Your friend, your spouse, your brother, your child…help must forever be their “Honest Acceptance.” Hindsight…I’m no different.

As Easter and Passover approach on our seasonal calendars, I am compelled to offer more “Unsolicited Advice” to illustrate the similarity of “Honest Acceptance” as it held against “Steadfast Denial”. As this season is upon us, I offer Jesus Christ’s declaration, “I am the way and the truth and the life.” In essence, Christians accept we are all sinners, we accept that we are forgiven of our sins and transgressions by the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ. “Honest Acceptance”, faith and acceptance of Jesus as our redeemer is the one and only pathway to the Father…God…Heaven. A human can share the story of Jesus, but the “Honest Acceptance” remains with the individual.  Christian missionaries will encounter people who will experience “Honest Acceptance”. The same Christian missionaries will also encounter people who will maintain a “Steadfast Denial” and consider the work of the missionaries “Unsolicited Advice”. There’s my “Unsolicited Advice”…and it’s there for your own interpretation.

Next, without a word to anyone, I allowed March 4, 2021, to come and go as any other day on the calendar.  As I went to bed that evening, I told my wife,  “Today, I have been an orphan for 75% of my life.” No, I don’t live in the past. I have learned so much from the past (hindsight)…and I continue learning something new each day I’m allotted. Yes, I would be a liar to pretend that cold hard statistic didn’t prey upon my mind that day. And…even as I write this post.

Then, just a few hours ago, it was March 20, 2021, and another statistic came to pass. This one is a mixture of joy and sadness. This day marked the 18th year since I received a double-lung transplant. I know the day lacks joy for the family of my donor…I continue to pray they find solace knowing their son’s lungs keep an old man alive. I am forced to acknowledge this statistic as it is miraculous. My life…my existence…continues far from the statistical norm of most lung transplantations. My life, as miraculous as I see, occurs in a body broken and abused (physically, mentally and spiritually). My soul is infected by depression and a host of other mental demons embedded deeply inside me. As I began a new season in my life, the mental demons…medications with horrific side-effects…a continued belief I was indeed useless…the reason for family difficulties…pushed me to rock bottom. This downward spiral continued until I attempted to end the life I had fought so hard to protect. In that not so distant season…I was nothing (useless…needing help…riding the express train to the pit of hell). My suicide attempt was calculated…some part of my geek brain obviously still intact. Two takeaways from this story…I shouldn’t be here…period. My mission hasn’t been completed.

You may find me on my knees…but this is not in posture of defeat…but praying to God…praying my broken body, mind, and soul be granted just a little time. Several new seasons are close at hand…and I pray I’m permitted the joy of being there for all of them. The new seasons are not necessarily mine…but for those I love so much.

— Bill

It’s been rather quiet around my blog.  That hasn’t been the case for my life.

I’ve recovered from the stomach modifications that I believe I described in this previous posting. It has successfully stopped the GERD (aka acid reflux) problem.  If you recall, I was not only aspirating the stomach acid…but also whatever food contents still in my stomach as I slept.  My research has shown that lung transplant recipients are prone to developing GERD and gastroparesis (slow-emptying digestive system).  The prominent belief remains “we don’t know” or “it might be vagal nerve damage”.  Either way, over sixteen years of dealing with this has taken its toll on my lungs.  Though I’ve been able to toss the antacid drugs away…I’ve added several new medications to help increase the flow of food through my digestive system.  Seems there’s always a tradeoff.

So, are you wondering what the “One Little Word” post title is all about?  Here’s a hint from one of my wife’s favorite book series…

“You will also find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.” — Albus Dumbledore

Now, I do have to admit, our humble 2-bedroom condo is by no means “Hogwarts”.  It’s the other part of that quote I’m after…one little word…help.  Experience (also know as being old as dirt) has proven no-one can read my mind.  Therefore, if I’m in need of something, like help, then I must ask. So, I’m asking for help.  I thought I would just include a bullet-list of some of the items that are stealing my joy.

• Solitude
  • I spend entirely too many days here alone.  Two options exist, invite someone here or go out and meet someone somewhere.
• Pain
  • Some will never go away.  So can be treated with medications…however, that increases the difficulty found with other bullet points.
  • Activity (as in exercise…or simply moving) is a double-edged sword.  It can increase your mood and it can increase your pain level.
•  Loss (or things I miss)
  • This could include the first bullet point as solitude and/or silence are the side-effects of so many things I miss…or have loss.  I’m honestly afraid to list all of the things I miss…too many feelings (not mine) would suffer.  So…I abstain…nothing new here.
  • I’ve lost contact with so many of my friends and family.  Yes, the phones and IM’s work both ways.  I remember that as I try to lay down to sleep at night.  I remember all the things “I had planned to do today.”  And that’s the next bullet point.
• Guilt
  • Yeah.  Is it bedtime?  If so, we can talk about this one.
• Health
  • Uh huh. About that…
• Distance/Location
  • This one is ______.
• Depression
  • Take all the bullet points from above…shove them in a tiny little box until the sides are bulging out…just about to explode.

 

Just for the record, I see a therapist and a psychiatrist on a regular basis.  So…don’t worry I’m gone off the deep-end.  No, I’m asking for help before I find myself there.  And yes, I know everyone has their burden…and mine pales in comparison to many others here on Earth.  I try my best to be thankful for all that I have…but I still hurt because of the many things I have lost.

–Bill