Anniversary of Hope

366 days ago, I felt as if the best years were behind me.

I accepted that as my reality and went through the motions of life, doing the next thing, and trying to keep up with the work God gave me. I didn't really believe that I would ever be well again. It is still hard to say that out loud, but it was a quiet reality that I had come to terms with and didn't really talk about. Nobody really wants to talk about the hard stuff, ya know? Rainbows and unicorns, thank you very much! But 366 days ago, my reality was that I was grateful for the saving grace of Jesus Christ so that someday, I would be without pain. I lived for that. It got me through the hard days and kept me grounded. My hope was not of this world, but firmly rooted in the knowledge that this very broken body would not follow me into eternity.

Then...

365 days ago, I was given a glimmer of a new hope. It was wrapped in a fair amount of terror, just to be honest, but it was hope nonetheless! And just a glimmer of hope can really give a person a reason to keep fighting! After many visits to the emergency room for "heart attack symptoms" that never turned up anything, I had stopped going unless I was having a "really bad attack" of symptoms that especially frightened me. But this one evening, my oldest daughter was sitting with me, my husband was out of town, and I was struggling to move, keep my eyes open, and breathe well. She said I looked bad, and insisted that I go to the ER. I explained why it was useless, but she insisted. I told her I would rest and if it got any worse, I would let her take me. Well, it did, and we went.

This visit went much like the others, with questions, IV's, chest X-Rays, and blood tests. They had seen me so many times and never had any answers, but they rarely made me feel like I shouldn't be there. They ran tests, they tried to help, and when they determined that I wasn't actually having a heart attack, they would send me home. That's the protocol. I knew the routine.

But this visit was a little different. I got a doctor who was a little more conservative and a little more by-the-book. He had a lengthier protocol, and he ran one test that hadn't been run before: a CT with and without contrast, to check for a pulmonary embolism. While I didn't have a PE, they noted something quite intersting (and kind of rare): celiac artery compression - and it was on the VERY BOTTOM (y'all, I mean the bottom 1/2" of that scan!) of the chest CT scan, so nobody would have blamed them if they had missed it.

365 days ago today, we discovered a big part of why my health was failing. And I had just a smidge more hope that I could get better again! We spent a few weeks researching, meeting with a specialist, and completing another test before we had a gameplan, but even during that time, hope for a better life this side of eternity gave me strength.

I'm not generally super dramatic or emotional by nature, but today is a really big day for me. It is the anniversary of hope. It is the day I started to believe that there were still good years to come. I am beyond grateful. 💗🙏💗