The Tunnel

2 Kings 20:5 "I have seen thy tears, behold, I will heal thee."

I remember the following happening as if it were real, not as if it were a dream. I call them scenes because it was as if I was watching a movie that I was in but I felt all the emotions and pain yet they skipped from one scene to the next w/o me falling asleep and/or waking up.

The first 'scene': The only people present were my parents, my siblings, and their spouses. We were actually on a vacation that my father had planned for all of us and it was to learn to depend on your spouse. My father kept telling us that he had been planning this trip for some time to a place in Central America. We were all walking together, having a great time, when, all of the sudden, we found ourselves in a narrow tunnel. This tunnel seemed very deep underground, as we had to carry torches to light our way. We began travelling through the tunnel which was about 8 feet high, and 4 feet wide, when we noticed drawings on the walls, the floors, and the ceiling. The floor was very smooth-obviously man-made, but it seemed ancient. Thousands of years old. We were not able to understand any of the writings, but I remember thinking, as I looked at them, that this was what it must have been like in 'Book of Mormon' times. After travelling like this for a length of time, we suddenly found ourselves in a very spacious room. The path we were following dropped off into a large expanse of water that encompassed the whole of the cave. Every few feet a large log appeared, standing upright, right out of the water. Each log pillar was of varying height, but they were all about a foot in diameter. At the far end of the pool we saw a tunnel leading out of the room. This tunnel was filled with many torches which gave it the appearance of exceeding brightness. As we stood on the edge of the water, my father spoke of an exercise that we would be performing as a family, more specifically, as couples. He told us that the exercise would be difficult and dangerous and that we would need to have complete trust and faith in our companion if we were to succeed. He told us that we were welcome to turn back, but that if we made it to the far side, we would be greatly blessed. There was not a single person who hesitated, not even for a moment. We were all very anxious to go forward. My father told us to cross the length of the water by stepping from pillar to pillar, yet this had to be done with our companion. He told us that we had to become one in our thoughts, our movements, and our hearts. Then came the terrifying news: when the first person stepped foot on the very first pillar, the water would begin rising! We had to determine who would go first and who would go last. In order to see the path we needed to take, our parents were required to go first (as if they had done this before), no one else in our little group possessed the knowledge to reach the other side quickly enough. Both of my parents despised this thought, but they also knew that it was necessary to get everyone across safely. The ensuing discussion became an argument, as each of us desired to go last. No one could stand the thought of anyone else not making it through. The discussion went on for a brief time until my brother, Joseph (the eldest), spoke in a very quiet yet authoritative tone telling us that there was to be no more disputations; that he would go last. After that was said, not another word was spoken on the subject.
There were torches surrounding the water, yet they were few, making the water dark and the pillars difficult to see. As soon as my father stepped on the first log the water began to rise. Not rapidly, yet we knew it would require complete focus to cross in time. We soon discovered that the most successful and rapid manner to cross was for each woman to be carried on the shoulders of her husband. It was understood by each member of our group that, although the man provided the strength, the woman provided the balance. Thus, 'neither is the man without the woman, or the woman without the man.' (1 Cor 11:11)
As we slowly made our way across the water, it became apparent that it would be impossible for each of us to make it across in time. The mood became incredibly sad and sober and we all began praying for help. It seemed to me that everyone was trying their best and doing their part; that we just didn't have enough time. Every once in a while, someone would stumble, and when this happened, every other hand shot out to help them regain their balance. No one fell fully into the water. As we prayed for help, we noticed that the tunnel on the far side became brighter and then, in the midst of the brightness, a man appeared. This man walked into the water, and rather than helping us one at a time, he began to push, and raise the ceiling! This was a solution that worked, yet one that none of us thought possible. And yet, here was this man performing, what we supposed, was a miracle!
Each of us reached the far side in safety and we were all anxious for this man come with us. Yet he would not. He told us (without speaking!) that if he were to move, the entire cave would collapse and everything we worked for would be for naught. Each of us felt an immense sorrow and an unspeakable respect for this man. Somehow, we all knew, as did he, that he was sacrificing himself for us!
I recall running out of the tunnel and then the scene changed.

Remembering

I remember being scared as we drove home to St. George from my parents home in Orem right after the holidays in January 2009. I was in so much pain by the time we reached Cedar City that I was curled up in the fetal position and letting my boys see the fear and pain in my eyes. As a mother, I have always been aware of the need to shelter my boys (at least when they were very young) from getting too frightened. I knew there would be times that they would experience pain and discomfort, but I also knew that Tony or I would be right there to comfort them and reassure them that they were protected and that all was right in the world. However, by this time in our drive home, I was in such severe pain that I was almost delirious and I remember knowing that my pain and fear were apparent on my face, yet realizing that I could not control those reactions. I HATED that! More than the pain or the fear: I hated knowing that my boys could feel it and that there was nothing I could do about it! I had lost the ability to control that.
When we arrived in St. George, it was very obvious that we needed to go straight to the nearest ER rather than go home. This was a very frustrating thought because I had been to three emergency rooms during the past week trying to find a reason for my pain and each visit just made us more concerned and confused. I knew that I had a cyst on my left ovary because I had an ultrasound done at my OB/GYN's office in St. George before we even went to Orem for Christmas. It was done on December 22, 2008, because the last period I had started at the beginning of November and I was still bleeding at the end of December. The ultrasound technician told me that the cyst was large enough that there was a possibility of it torquing my ovary and preventing the blood supply from reaching that ovary. We thought this was the cause of my pain and we were sure to tell every ER doctor and nurse about this. The doctor at the first ER visit even ordered another ultrasound, but it showed the blood supply reaching the ovary so we were told that was not the cause. I was sent away from that visit with pain medication and the advice to call my OB/GYN after the holidays. Little did I know that by the new year, I would be fighting for my life! At the subsequent ER visits we were given the same advice, but there was not another ultrasound performed and there was not (at ANY of the ER visits) a pelvic exam performed, which struck us as a bit strange.
The last thing I remember was being admitted to Dixie Regional Medical Center in St. George after that terrible car ride. In future posts, I will write about the things that I saw while I was in a coma for two weeks. During that time, I was unaware of countless doctors trying to save my life and countless prayers on behalf of my family and friends given asking the Lord to spare my life. For the next little while I will be writing what I remember. After that I will retell some of what I had been told and then I can write what I remember after waking from my coma.

One more try!

I've decided that it's worth it for me to jot down a few thoughts every now and again; if not for other's benefit, then for my own and my family's. Lately my life has been in complete upheaval and I have found myself relying again and again on my new-found strength. There have been many times where I have found myself wondering if I could be the pillar of strength so desperately needed during this difficult time in my boys life. After all, that's just what they are: little boys. Little boys who I love more than I could ever describe. But, every day, somehow or other I have made it through, making sure to celebrate the little victories. Just yesterday may have seemed like the most ordinary Sunday to most: I woke up, got the chicken in the crockpot, helped my husband get our boys dressed and the four of us off to church, returning to a home smelling of the perfect after-church meal smell, and later making brownies which we shared with our darling neighbors. To me; however, yesterday was a gigantic victory. I awoke feeling well, not groggy from my numerous medications; I stood up, after rolling on my silicone liners and forcing what's left of my legs into prosthetics; I readied the chicken for the crockpot, doing so without fingers; we got off to church, on time and without me feeling like I was drowning in my own sweat; returned home, being awake and alert enough to prepare dinner; and finally making brownies, and walking to my neighbors and back without having to sit down once because of my prosthetic pain!
I relate this story, not to gain any pity or congratulations, but to remind myself (and possibly others) that it is in the small, everyday moments that we find the most joy. I was able to accomplish things yesterday that, three years ago, seemed absolutely impossible. And I was able to do those things all while contemplating the wonder of that love that we, as mothers, have for our children. I was able to fully appreciate the sweet glances from my hubby that both of us knew meant more than a full dictionary could describe.
So....to those who are struggling, which I'm learning is practically everyone, find your happiness in places you never thought to look!

I have a functioning kidney!

I'm sorry that I have not written for such a long time-it's like trying to keep a journal and I'm not very good at that either. So much has transpired since my last post that I hardly know where to begin. December; usually being one of the best months of the year, turned out to be one of the hardest months of my life. We went through some serious family issues that I never want to relive. The past two years have brought so much physical pain, but that's all it is: pain. When it's over, it's over. I can deal with that-especially knowing that I was doing it for my boys. Emotional pain; however, is a whole different ball game! The scars from emotional pain take much, much longer to heal. And, not just that, these were things I had no control over. When I was going through all the physical pain of the past year, it was me going through it, me feeling it, no one else. So I knew that I had control over that, that I knew exactly what it felt like. It may sound strange, but for anyone who has undergone severe physical pain, you know what I'm saying. The emotional pain that I endured in December was so different than anything I have experienced: it was a dark, deafening pain that seemed to overcome everything in its wake. Fortunately, through much counseling, we were able to get through it and, that being said, I think we are much stronger because of it. I was able to watch the atonement in action and what an amazing experience that was! I have felt the sweet balm of the atonement so many times in my own life, but this was different. This time, the atonement really was this person's savior. It has been incredible to watch the change in this person's personna and life as he bathes in the light of Christ. I just read a book called 'The Peacegiver', by James Ferrell. It taught me so much of the atonement and the far-reaching effects of it. Everyone should read it!!
YES!!!! I just received a kidney from my sweet sister Tasha! She was willing to go through the physical pain and to put her entire life on hold for me! The most amazing part, she doesn't think that she's done anything big! She is so incredibly humble about the whole thing. When asked about it, she simply replies, 'Well, anyone in the family would have done it', which is true but she has no desire to be labeled the hero. However, that is exactly what she is and always will be to me, my husband Tony, and my boys. I have a new life, a new beginning, a new hope! She has given me the greatest gift anyone could in this life, the opportunity to have a full, meaningful life. I am so thankful that I do have such an amazing family who are all willing to do anything for each other!

Baby sister is having a baby!!!

My baby sister, Kiska Schramm, is finally having her first baby, a girl, today! She is the first one of us to go to and/or over her due date. (She was due on Nov. 1) My earliest was two weeks early! As Kiska's due date got closer and closer, I have realized how hard it has been to be away from her! She has recently moved to Omaha from Rochester when her husband graduated from medical school and has gone on to specialize in the ENT field. Therefore, she is closer but I still am unable to visit her because I am on dialysis every night. How I am looking forward to getting my kidney from my other sister, Tasha!! This could happen as early as mid-December! How exciting is that!?! But until that happens I have to come to terms with the idea that I won't be able to be with Kiska and her new baby Kora. I am so incredibly sad about that! I really am bummed about that and I just hope that she is able to feel our love and support and I really hope and pray that she will be able to come out for Christmas!!

New news? Book and therapist!

Tony was in Big O tires waiting to have new tires put on his work vehicle when he struck up a conversation with a gentleman who turned out to be an author! Tony had no idea when he began telling the man about our life over the past several years. When this man learned about our situation, he asked Tony if we would consider allowing him to write our story! We did a lot of research on this particular writer and were pleasantly surprised! He is a very successful writer and we love his writing style. We have had several appointments with him and we are very excited about getting this whole process started. I must admit, I am nervous about reliving the entire story and the writer asked me if I was ready to go through everything again. However, I have been asked by so many people when I was going to write a book and several doctors have even told me that they would be willing to write the parts that they played in it. We are very excited and I will be sure to let everyone know when it is done!
I have also started seeing a therapist to help me with some of the issues that I am having. I touched on those issues in my last blog entry. I have seen the therapist twice and in the first session we talked about how weary I have become in trying to remain strong. For example, my sweet Tony is always telling me and everyone else how amazing I have been through this entire process. Well, in his mind he was doing me a favor and I thought so too! However, in doing so, I felt that I had to be amazing ALL the time; as if I could never be UN-amazing. We had never thought of it that way. He kept telling us that we had to allow me to just be me-which ever way I wanted to be me. At the next session, we talked about guilt. I have a serious problem with guilt, and I even discovered that I feel guilty for feeling guilty! I have a feeling that 95% of women out there are in the same boat as I am. We talked for quite some time about the phrase: "Let go, and let God". My therapist told me that the more I rely on the Lord and turn to Him for help, the more I will be able to let go of the guilt I am feeling. He also asked me to keep a 'therapy journal'. In this journal, I am to write any thoughts or feelings I am having, whether they be positive or negative, happy or sad or even angry. It has been interesting to me that I have never been angry with the Lord; not once! I really haven't. I have only felt gratitude because I know that it was the Lord who saved me from death. He is my Savior in every sense of the word, both spiritually and mortally.

Mourning my past life and limb loss.

I wasn't sure that I would ever go through this period of mourning, but I am well aware that every one else knew that I would. Tony said that it is because my life is starting to settle down and things are getting back to normal so I now have the time to reflect on my situation and mourn my losses. I'm not in the depths of despair but it has been quite challenging lately. Its just a very strange state of mind as I wake up in the morning and think about the challenges that will face me that day. Now don't get me wrong, I really am SO grateful for my life, my family, what remains of my limbs and the lessons that I have learned through all of this; its just that I struggle to get really excited about anything. Even with the holidays just around the corner which, in the past, gave me the butterflies just thinking about them, I have struggled with finding the excitement I am used to! Its very strange, but I, like my mother and all my sisters, used to get more enthusiastic about Halloween and Christmas that we did about any guy! (That excludes our hubbies of course!!) However, just the other day I was at the boys' soccer games and I started thinking of Fall in Salem, Massachusetts, and I did get the tingling in the stomach that I get when I am really excited. That was actually a breakthrough for me! I hadn't felt that sensation for quite some time and feeling that made me feel so alive somehow. I do believe that, eventually, I will get back to "normal", or whatever normal may be for me. I'm just not quite sure how long that will take but, for now, I will take the small victories that get me from day to day!