There's a security street light that fills our night-time rooms with amber light, leaving no need for a night-lights.  Macular Degeneration has made Mom legally blind, and we never know exactly how much she sees.  It might be a shadow or colour--like telling me she likes my yellow tee shirt.  At night, a little light makes Mom feel more secure.  But with this street light about eight feet from our windows, there is no need for individual night lights in the room.

It had gone midnight (to this morning), and I was surprised that Mom was still awake.  But sometimes the prescription pain medication she takes will keep her awake and stimulated. 

I share her queen-sized bed and had just gotten comfortable, my own eyes closed. 

After a few seconds Mom says:  "Did you see that?"

"See what?" I ask, opening my eyes and look toward the door.  I'm thinking that she might be seeing one of the cats, as they take turns lying in the doorway.  But there was no cat there.

"That, over by the door."  She says, continuing to look.

"No, I don't see anything.  What did you see?"

"It looked like someone was standing there."

"Can you tell me what he looked like?"  I don't know why I said "he".  But I knew my sister was in bed. 

"No, not really--he had his back to me."  She explained.

I do believe in supernatural beings--angels and devils.  A few nights ago I walked into Mom's room and she had been scared.  My sister has often wondered if there was something about Mom's room that causes her to get agitated.  So, I did what any well taught, Born Again, Holy Spirit filled person would do--I prayed out loud.  I told God's Holy Protective Angels to stay and told Satan's dark angels to flee.  I prayed that the blood of Jesus would cover and protect us. 

After that, we both settled down and went to sleep. 
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Sethra Rose

 This is Sethra Rose.  She is a small cat, and weighs about six pounds/15 kgs. 

Sissy brought her in last October because she was quite ill.  Originally, Sissy thought the kitten was a male kitten and named "him" Seth.  When Sissy took "Seth" to the vet because "he" was suffering from dehydration, a sever cold and infection, the vet told Sissy that "Seth" was actually a female--so "Seth" became "Sethra" 

She is so fiesty and would put her little paws under the bathroom door where she was quarentined from the other cats.  Hannah was very curious about these little paws, and they often played "pawsies." 

After about three weeks, Sissy finally let Sethra out into the flat/apartment.  She and Hannah became tight buddies.  You just never know what this cat is going to do next!  She actually bounces off the wall.  Think "Tigger" in "Winnie the Pooh"!

This is Sethra under the fake fiscus tree.   

I wish I had my camera with me all the time, because the cats are always doing something cute or funny. 

Yes, I have more photos to post. 

I hope some of them will bring a smile to your face.

Serving Jesus, Author of our faith,

"Lady Helene"

Sunshine...

Sunday was Easter.  I missed being home at St. Mary's Church of England, Langley, to celebrate the annual remembrance of Jesus's Resurrection from the dead and our salvation.  I didn't attend church here.  The richness of worship is minimized when I can't share it with people with whom I am in relationship. 

I got sunburned on Sunday.  No, I wasn't at the beach.  Nor was at at the swimming pool.  I was standing at the end of the breeze-way, cutting my sister's hair.  It took us about an hour and the end result was like a sheep who has been shorn of a full winter's coat in the spring.  There was a beautiful breeze to make us comfortable.    The sunburn doesn't hurt, for which I am thankful.  Equally, I can't complain, as being just ten days away from finishing my three month visit, this is my first "red-neck" experience.  

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Today's Mom-ism 

Every morning we have to give Mom about 10 or 11 pills/tablets.  Some of these are supplements, such as cranberry concentrate, vitamin C, etc; others are her prescribed medication for under-active thyroid and high blood pressure.  We will give them to here two or three at a time and usually let her know how many she has left. 

This morning I'd already given her two lots of three tablets when she took a break.  
"Mom, don't drink all your chocolate milk.  You still have pills to take."
Mom shook her head and took another drink.  I'm thinking to myself I'll have to go get her bottle of water if she uses all her chocolate drink.  

"Are you ready for the next ones?  I have three in this hand, and two in my other hand."

Mom looks a bit confused, shaking her head.  Then she says:

"Mommy, how many more meals do I have to eat before I'm done?"

"Five--are you ready for these three."  

Mom shruggs and opens her mouth.  In the mean-time I smile; despite the description of the pills being inaccurate, her question does have an odd, yet recognisable logic to it.  

I did have to go get the bottel of water for her to finish the job.  But at least there was no argument today as to why she has to take so many pills.  And for that I am thankful.

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 This beautiful creature is Bambina.  If someone from central casting were sent to find the perfect black cat, Bambina--aka Bina--is the perfect fit.  There isn't one spot of white on her. 

Bina came into the house shortly before Preacher.  She was a tiny cat and my sister caught her to have her steralised. 

For the longest time Bina hid under the bed, coming out only to eat and to see my sister.  It took a couple of years before she was friendly to the other cats.  She wouldn't hiss--just stare at them with "the look".  The other cats always backed off. 

Now Bina circulates around the flat/apartment.  She is affectionate and enjoys having her tummy rubbed.  If Sissy or I am in bed, Bina will climb on top of us to demand loving.  Her coat is so soft--like well worn sleeping flannel and smooth as silk. 

Bina now gets along with the other cats, most of the time.  She is an example of grace--belief that given time, patience, attention, affection and persistence, a wounded soul can respond and heal. 

By the way, did you know that stroking a dog or cat is a great way to relax, reduce stress and help to calm a person down?  Scientist have found this to be true.

Serving Jesus, Author of our faith,

"Lady Helene"

Bina with her back foot forward whilst sleeping.  That's her bare tummy showing as well.

Monkey Juice and Home Brew

Times of frustration and patience-stretching are balanced out by funny moments and remarks. 

Mom's favourite thing to drink is chocolate milk.  When she doesn't want anything else you offer, she will always take chocolate milk. 

Now Mom gets confused at times when her pain medication is wearing off, or she is tired, or she is in pain.  We just never know what she's going to say from one moment to the next. 

Last week I had just gotten her into bed for the afternoon. 

"Mom, do you want anything else?"

"Yes, I want some Monkey juice!"

"You want What?"  I ask with raised eyebrows, wondering from where that description came. 

"Monkey juice!  You know what I mean."

"Well, I guess I do."  I smile and head off to the kitchen to get her the chocolate milk.

First thing in the morning we often use a diet supplement drink, called Boost, to give Mom's medicine to her.  Because it is simpler, we tell her it is her chocolate milk.  It is not economically viable to give Mom a chocolate Boost drink everytime she wants chocolate milk.  So I've explained that she has special chocolate milk in a labeled bottle.  However, other times I have to fix chocolate milk by adding Ovaltine to regular milk. 

This became a problem because we were out of milk for a couple of days, as well as finishing off the can of Ovaltine.  I made it to the grocery store on Friday, and told her that we now had milk and chocolate milk mix. 

Yesterday, after a trip to the toilet, I was tucking her back into bed. 

"Do you want a drink?"  I ask.

"Yes, I want some HOME BREW!" 

I couldn't help myself--I just had to laugh.  "Okay," I said.  "I'll bring you some home brew." 

Somehow it seems appropriate, as I did have to make a glass of milk and Ovaltine--a type of home brew. 

I go home on 17th April.  I am going to miss these unexpected statements. 

Our God is a Good Father

On 15^th September, I kept my appointment with a nephrologist.  As I mentioned in yesterday’s blog, the doctor confirmed that all the blood and urine tests came out clear and then confirmed to me that the tremors, fatigue, anxiety, muscle weakness and other symptoms have nothing to do with my kidney function. 

To be honest, I walked away from that session feeling overwhelmed, disappointed, sad, unheard by the doctors, and even apathetic.  Why were the doctors more wrapped up in concentrating on the kidney problem (which I feel pretty indifferent about!), when what bothers me both physically and emotionally is the fatigue issues?! 

Part of my frustration has been that the GP (family doctor) I see has not been willing to send me to an endocrinologist and explore the idea of a hormonal issue—specifically adrenal fatigue.  It had taken two years before my thyroid levels were low enough on a test for me to be treated—even though I knew that it was an issue. 

Unless another specialist makes a recommendation to my GP to send me to an endocrinologist, it just isn’t going to happen.  I thought about seeing a different GP, who happens to attend St. Mary’s church.  We exchanged a few e-mails and this doctor gave me a mental health inventory.  The result was that I was moderately depressed.  I made two decisions:  1) to spend some quality time writing in my journal; 2) to see a counsellor.

As I was writing in my journal, I realised that in some ways I had been drifting along, going to doctors’ appointments, thinking that getting better depended more on what they found than on what I knew I could be doing.  Surely, there were things that my body and the Holy Spirit were telling me, but I wasn’t listening.  By writing in my journal, I began to realise that there were two keys I could be putting to good use:  a set bedtime—22:00 hrs every night—no later than 22:30 hrs; and having regular, set meal times every day.  This would naturally help balance out my blood sugar levels, directly affecting my energy levels. 

Serendipitously, a psychological therapist has also attends St. Mary’s Church.  The therapist is currently on maternity leave and offered free therapy sessions to St. Mary’s members. 

My counselling sessions are going really well.  A tool I’ve been given is a small chart.  At the top is written Thoughts.  One the right hand side of the page is written Emotions.  At the bottom of the page is Physical/Somatic and on the left side of the page is Behaviours and lines are used to create a circle. All of these are inter-related and affect the other areas.

Through using this technique, I have been able to sift truth from warped beliefs, which had trapped me into fear, worry and false guilt, and therefore releasing me from the anxiety issues related to my Mom and “Annika”.  Operating on the idea that "you reap what you sow", I felt guilty that I wasn't the one taking care of Mom--because “Who would take care of me in my old age?”  Equally, I was concerned about "How am I honouring my mom, if I can't be there to take care of her?"                          I am concerned about them--of course. 

      When I went to Florida in the autumn of 2007, I went with the attitude of My Midnight Man and me moving to Florida, to help care for Mom.  None of those plans came to fruition—no job found, no car purchased, no flat rented for My Midnight Man and myself.  It seemed clear that we were not supposed to be in the USA.

Ephesians 6:2-3 "Honour (esteem and value as precious) your father and your mother--this is the first commandment with a promise--that all may be well with you and that you many live long on the earth." 

My parent’s greatest desire for me was for me to be married, happy and looked after.  Mom doesn't want me to sacrifice my marriage for the sake of taking care of her.  Mom has always taught me that being obedient to God and following His plan for my life was her greatest desire.  I realised that because I AM honouring her, things have gone very well with me here--I obtained my UK driving license, I’ve had several jobs, we paid off my school debts in less than a year, I have my British Citizenship, I have been received into the Anglican Church, I have medical care.  It was like the light coming on.  I can rest in faith that I am right where I need to be.          I realised that it isn't my job, (or even “Annika's” job) to take care of my Mom--but God's job.  Even if I were there, God would be using the same people he is now--the doctors, nurses, and rehab staff--to meet her many needs.  Just as it is God's job to provide for my Mom, it is God's job to take care of me when I am old. 

                        When “Annika” had to put Mom into hospital, she was full of anger and recriminations toward herself, because “Annika” felt she had not kept a close enough eye on Mom.  Mom's blood sugar had dropped to 35!!!  (This reading is the USA’s standard with 100-120 being a good level)  “Annika” was distressed, telling God that she couldn't handle it if Mom died--because it would have been her fault.  Suddenly, the Holy Spirit spoke to her--"Hey, nobody said she wouldn't come through this.  She will be fine.  Just relax.  I'm taking care of things."  A couple of hours later, she thought:  "We have a credit card with a large amount available.  I better see about getting ‘Helene’ over here."  So she went to one of the travel websites, with the idea of checking out prices and flights from England.  She typed in Heathrow in the "leaving from" box, and clicked the mouse.  The whole screen went black!  So, she hit the mouse again, and refreshed the screen.  Once again, she entered Heathrow into the "leaving from" box and hit enter.  This time only the title bar came up, and the rest of the screen was blank.  The Holy Spirit said, "I told you, everything is going to be fine.  You don't need to do this."                          When Annika told me this story, it was another thing that put my mind to rest.  I have not sensed an urgency to go there.  I am trying to call Annika on a regular basis--to check on her as well.  Right now is not the time to go to Florida--but the Lord will let me know when it is. 

                        “...And were beyond measure astonished, saying, He hath done all things well:” Mark 7:37.  This remark was made about Jesus.  I echo this feeling and thought as I look out the window at just this minute.  Why?  Because I see a rainbow—a token of God’s promises to us.  Equally, I was not surprised by the timing of Mom’s hospitalisation and the test on my part to truly trust God to care for Mom and “Annika.” 

                        In the last couple of weeks I’ve been feeling better, and stronger.  I still get a bit shaky at times, but the tremors don’t last as long.  Having a set routine is making a positive difference and this gives me hope that I can be even more active in coming days.  I wanted to share all of this, because God is so gloriously gracious and deserves to be not only acknowledged, but praised and applauded. 

Serving Jesus, Author of our faith,  “Lady Helene”