I Am Weak

Have you ever had to wait for the results of a blood test? As we age, our doctors will order routine blood work just to make sure everything is normal. Some of us will get a little apprehensive even though we have no symptoms. But that is not what I am talking about. Have you ever sat in your doctor’s office and had a conversation about the possibility of a diagnosis, pending the results of a test? Maybe you are like my brother in law, whose doctor told him he had very high cholesterol. Or maybe it was a simple strep throat culture. No matter what the test, most people are holding their breath waiting for their doctor to tell them that everything is ok. No, you don’t have that dreadful disease you have spent the past day or two stressing over, congratulations! Not me. Every time my team of doctors draws blood or sends me for a scan or makes me pee in a cup, I am hoping that this time they are going to finally see what I have been feeling for the past few years. I just want a diagnosis so that we can start to treat whatever is causing this dreadful pain.

On Monday, the lab technician drew five vials of blood, slapped labels on them, and put a piece of tape over the cotton ball on my left arm. “Thank you,” I said as I gathered my personal items off of the small tray to my right. Thank you? Is that what you are supposed to say to someone who has just stuck you with a needle? I have had my arm poked many times over the past few years and I have yet to figure out what is appropriate to say when I leave. My health provider offers test results online, so I spent the next 48 hours reviewing my results as they came in. With each new test, I did a Google search to help me understand what the numbers meant. As far as I could tell, everything looked ok. I want to be like any normal person and be relieved, but I can’t. As I entered a new doctor’s office Wednesday morning, a rheumatologist, I had very low hopes of getting answers. And she didn’t disappoint me. “Everything looks good, your numbers all came back in the normal range”, she told me. Great. So please, doctor explain why I was up until 3 am, tossing and turning for nearly five hours because the pain was too great to relax. Explain why I cannot laugh without crying out in pain, or why every evening when I take my bra off, it is covered in blood and bodily fluids. What is wrong with me? How is it that I can feel what you can’t see, and I can see what you cannot diagnose?

I am strong. I have never really had a choice, where I came from weakness wasn’t an option. I was forced to overcome more things by the time I was eight than many people have to face in a lifetime. Pain, whether physical or emotional, has never stopped me. I have always believed that obstacles were put in my path so that I could learn how to overcome them, not to stop me. It never occurred to me that not all obstacles were meant to overcome, some were put there to stop me, or to change my course. Having lived my whole life in fight or flight mode, my natural instinct is to climb every hurdle – to overcome.

And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ’s sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.

2 Corinthians 12:9-10

I read a meme on Facebook that said something like this: “Have you ever gone into the bathroom, cried it out, washed your face, and then walked out like everything was ok?” Yes, I have. And I used to believe it was because I was strong, because I could handle it all on my own. I have sat in the passenger seat of the car with my husband to my left and my kids in the back, tears silently falling from my face while I stared out the window. No one ever knew I was in pain, or that I needed help. Because I was strong, I could overcome. But that really isn’t true at all. I was proud, not strong. Society screams strength, there is no place for weakness in our culture. Weak workers never get promoted, weak wives endure abuse, and weak children get bullied. And yet Christ assures us that strength is found in surrender.

I left the doctor’s office with a bottle of Prednisone, instructions to take them for 2 weeks, and to send an email to let the doctor know how things were looking when the pills were gone. There was no diagnosis, no documented cause for my pain or the wound that refuses to close. I left feeling frustrated, or maybe defeated is a better word. I don’t even like taking ibuprofen, and I am supposed to take 40mg of steroids every day? And if those pills don’t work, I will be prescribed Methotrexate for a minimum of three months. Google that one! My first reaction was “No, thank you.” But when the rheumatologist informed me that the condition could worsen or even become cancerous, I decided to hold my tongue. But I couldn’t hold my tears. Of course I held them long enough to get outside of the office and put my sunglasses on – because I am strong proud.

Just six hours later my phone buzzed with a notification, and then another immediately afterward. I picked up my phone and read “You have new test results”. Strange, I didn’t have them draw anymore blood, and I thought we went over my blood work that morning. The second notification was a message from my doctor. She informed me that one more test result came in…the ANA test. And it was positive.

I have waited two years for an answer, for a positive. And now I had one, and I was terrified. What is ANA and what does positive mean? In her email, the doctor informed me that the positive result meant it was probable that our suspicions were right – that I have an auto-immune disease. She also said that a small percentage of the population tests positive and they do not have symptoms of an auto-immune disease. So I do or I do not have an auto-immune disease? I do or I do not have a diagnosis? I was still confused so I turned to Google.

The antinuclear antibody (ANA) test is used as a primary test to help evaluate a person for autoimmune disorders that affect many tissues and organs throughout the body (systemic) and is most often used as one of the tests to help diagnose systemic lupus erythematosus (SLE).

Google

Alright, so I have a positive, but I still don’t have a true diagnosis; however we are on to something – and I don’t like the direction this is going.

That night, I crawled into bed next to my husband, I let tears fall silently down my face in the darkness, and I debated what I was going to say. I was upset that he hadn’t even asked me about my appointment and thought to not tell him anything – because if he really cared, wouldn’t he have called me after my appointment? But that was the proud me talking, and I want to be the humble me, the my weakness is made perfect in His strength me. And so I told him – about the appointment, the test result and the possibility of lupus being a hurdle we would have to face. I told him I was afraid, not of the disease but of the medicine. I told him that back in February when we did the Daniel fast (a plant-based diet) for a month, my body healed itself. I expressed my desire ro try to heal my body with food before I resorted to medicine. And this incredible man God has blessed me with, he said “I will do a juice fast with you.” My husband loves Coke, he enjoys steak and cheeseburgers, and he doesn’t much care for kale or spinach. But he loves me, and he sees my pain, hears the fear in my voice, and he wants to hold my hand and walk right beside me. (I guess I should forgive him for not calling to check on me!)

I have spent the past couple of days pondering my options, watching food documentaries, and filling my Amazon Prime Now cart with kale and cucumbers, lemons and apples. I have not taken the Prednisone out of the white pharmacy bag just yet. I really think that medicine is not the answer, although I have resolved within myself that it may be something I have to take. I am going to start with a juice fast, followed by a whole food, plant-based diet. I have not figured out the time frame yet, but stay tuned. We are going to find out together whether food heals.