Category: Trust

Christianity, Chronic Illness, Emotional Health, Faith, Health, Hope, Marriage, Prayer, Relationships, Trust, Uncategorized

When Life Shows Up…

gregoryjoel

My time on the porch is once again becoming shorter as the temperature begins to return to last week’s glimpse of late summer. While I enjoyed the temporary relief of the “cold” front that passed through, the above-average temperatures are becoming the new normal. NPR reported that the folks who keeps tabs on his kind of stuff say that May was a full five degrees hotter than last year across the board. It seems that every month seems to be either breaking records or least landing in the top five warmest years. I wonder what the world will be like for my grandchildren. I think about things like that and quite frankly, I get fearful for them. But that’s another story…

A young male mockingbird has laid claim to one of the trees in our front yard. He’s a cocky little fellow and a bit a bully when it comes to other birds in our yard and our cat. He’s quick to chase off the other birds, especially the doves, when they land in the yard. He loves to drop down and get close enough to Wallace, our cat, daring him to catch him and indulging in a very dangerous game of tag. Little does he know that Wallace isn’t really interested anything other that sleeping on my truck and periodically wandering over to the front porch to make sure his food bowl is constantly full. Still, I love watching the little guy just because he’s so full of self-confidence and bravado. It doesn’t matter that he has little to fear from Wallace. He’s still very courageous…

I went to my doctor yesterday for a follow-up to my recent hospital stay. I have another four weeks with my little IV buddy by my side. I still feel as if I’m under house arrest at times. Everything is scheduled around my infusion and the heat outside. I’m still not supposed to sweat, which seems futile given the Texas summer. I’m already tired of staying in either the bedroom or my office, which are the only rooms in the house that stay cool after about 10:00 AM. I sneak outside to work in the garden for a few minutes at a time. It’s only been a couple of weeks and I have serious cabin fever, which has been a truly eye-opening (and somewhat guilt-ridden) experience.

I’ve experienced, to a very tiny degree, what my wife has had to go through for the last two-and-a-half years. Some of you that are reading this know the difficulties my wife, Margaret, has had to walk through since her back surgery back in October of 2015. So, it makes sense when I say to you that I have no right to complain. Doing so reminds me of how self-centered I can be, even with the ones I love the most.

For those of you who don’t know Margaret, there are a few things I need to tell you. I don’t feel I’m speaking out of line, since we are both very public about our physical issues – not to seek pity, but to help others going through the same things. One thing I’ve learned over the last several years is that there are a lot of people who live with terrible isolation and depression. That’s often the consequence of chronic pain and illness. Our openness is hopefully beneficial to others, and for that I’m grateful. We both firmly believe that our purpose in life is to help others. Still, I forget that sometimes, I forget about the one closest to me.

Margaret has dealt with chronic pain for the last several years. We’ve joked that if it pertains to her back and ends with “-osis” she’s probably experienced it. She will tell you that she was 5’7” when she was twelve. She’s 4’10” today (and I’m 6’3” so it’s not always easy to frame our photos in a camera lens…). Despite the difficulty caused by her back issues, she’s been fiercely independent. If a doctor tells her she can’t do something, her response has always been “watch me”. Her attitude and her reliance on God led her to do many things she wasn’t supposed to be able to do. That’s one of the things I’ve always loved and admired about her. She’s a beautiful, strong, an independent woman.

However, her situation changed in 2015. She began to experience new back pains. It soon became apparent that another surgery would be required to alleviate them, which she had in October of that year. The surgery relieved much of the pain it as designed to do, but also left a new problem – healing was to be extremely slow around some of the new hardware in her back. The last two-and-a-half years has been tenuous at best. It’s like modified bed rest and it’s debilitating to her emotions as well.

If you deal with chronic pain or medical conditions, you know how easy it is to succumb to depression after all the frustration and powerlessness that comes with them. If my situation feels like house arrest, then I can only imagine how my wife must feel. I realize how my current “inconveniences” are nothing compared to the ones that she, and many others, constantly deal with. In fact, I feel like a bit of a jerk for saying anything at all.

We were talking yesterday afternoon about her frustration and depression. Sometimes she feels like she has no purpose anymore because of her limitations. It cut me to the core to see the love of my life feel that way. She’s been an unbelievable role model so many people, and she’s loved by so many folks, but sometimes knowing that and feeling that are two completely different things. So, I’ve been thinking a lot about what her (and my) purpose is the last few days.

We both have our faith, which calls us to love God and love others. She’s far better than I am at that, but with her help (and God’s!) I’m getting better at it. She’s clothed in humility and in tune with the needs of others. Humility is not “thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less”, and she truly exemplifies that virtue. Moreover, if I ever have difficulty with feeling (and practicing) gratitude, all I need is spend a few minutes with Margaret and I’m back on track again. Ultimately, our purpose is to be of service to God and our fellow travelers in this world and she meets that in so many ways. Still, that seems kind of vague and general when you’re stuck at home so much of the time.

The road hasn’t always been easy, but we’ve been down the road together, and God has graced us in ways that are unimaginable. There are days when she feels very lonely and isolated, even when I’m at work in the next room. So, I thought Margaret and I together could share some of our experience, strength, and hope of living well (and sometimes not so well) with chronic pain and illness. Hopefully, you’ll be hearing from her, in her voice, and hear her story soon. It’s one that needs to be shared. Maybe in sharing the grace that has been extended to us, we can help others see the love and grace in their own lives even when life “shows up”.

I haven’t talked to her about it yet, but we’re usually on the same page. I hope it all makes sense because she’s also my editor and she’s resting following a procedure on her back this morning. It’s just as important to us that we share our struggles as it is the share the incredible life we’ve been graced with. The old Hebrew prophets tell us that God “rains on the just and the unjust alike” – life shows up no matter who you are. Sharing how she and I work through it sounds like a pretty good “purpose”, so maybe we can be of help to someone along the way. I’ll keep you posted…

Christianity, Communication, Emotional Health, Faith, Family, Marriage, Prayer, Recovery, Relationships, Trust, Uncategorized

A Few Ground Rules…

gregoryjoel

A line of thunderstorms came through last night while we were sleeping. Our Catahoula, Jameson, assumed his “thunder” position in the corner. Jameson is one of our rescues (although we’re not sure who rescued who) and spent his first nineteen months in the shelter. I’m so happy that the Humane Society of North Texas is a “no-kill” shelter. I’m sure they kept him all those months because he was waiting for him to come home to us. Still, I can only imagine what it must’ve been like for him when thunderstorms came through: the cacophony of barking and howling reverberating off the concrete floors and walls. I’d probably be a little nervous, too.

The rain is absolutely, positively wonderful. I don’t care if I’ll spend the rest of the day mopping up dirty paw prints. We haven’t had a good rain in a while now. Not only did my garden need it, our A/C did as well. It’s had a well-deserved break this morning. I’m not looking forward to our electric bill this month.

So, the heat relief came and I was quite comfortable as I sat on the porch this morning. I enjoyed the day more than I have in the last few weeks. I spent time with my lovely wife, followed by a long phone call with my sister in Georgia. Life doesn’t get much better than that…

Sometimes my time on the porch is nothing more than a time to reconnect with the people in life. It’s also a chance to think about absolutely nothing. The days when nothing’s happening are some of the most treasured days I can have. My wife and I will often sit in silence together, each lost in our own little world, but somehow together. One of the greatest pleasures in our life is being able to enjoy each other’s company without having to fill it with meaningless conversation and noise. I’ve always been envious of couples that were able to speak volumes without saying a word.

I know it was soon after Margaret and I had been dating when I felt a need to lay down some communication ground rules for our relationship. I told her that there were a couple of things she needed to know about me to avoid any hurt feelings or seeming disinterest through any miscommunication. First, if she asked me what I was thinking, and I replied nothing, then I was actually thinking, “nothing”. I really mean it! Science may argue that it’s impossible for anyone not to be thinking something, but believe me – it is absolutely, positively possible for me not to be thinking about anything at all. So, ladies trust me on this, men can be completely mentally blank at times. It’s nothing personal. It just is what it is…

Secondly, I told Margaret that if I were to ask her how it’s going, and she replied, “okay”, then I’m going assume she’s telling me the truth and everything is okay. Since I’m not a mind reader I’m going to take her at her word. I trust her. If there’s something going on and she’s not ready to talk about it all she has to do is say so. I can be patient and go about life until she’s had time to process whatever is going on. I won’t lie and tell you this is easy. There are times when this is difficult: I am, by nature, a “fixer”. I think most men are. It’s hard to watch someone we love deal with something and we can’t do anything about it right now. I made the commitment to her that I would allow her the space and time she needs for herself because I trust her implicitly.

Margaret and I have been married for five and a half years and those two ground rules work well for us. We’re not perfect by any means, but we just don’t have very many spats (even little ones) because both of us practice these simple rules as best as we can. Maybe we can practice them because we were both in our fifties and had been single for so long before we started dating. It’s hard to play the dating games as you get older. You get more direct and to the point, especially when you don’t “need” anyone to make you feel like a whole human being. I have a friend that says, “One times one equals one, but fractions just don’t add up the same”. I know what he means. Believe me…

We have a good marriage. Notice I said “good”, not perfect. Then again, that’s what the Creator said when he looked down at the Earth and all of creation, “It is good”, not perfect. That tells me we’re on the right track. There’s still times when I wish it didn’t take Margaret so long to process her thoughts and feelings about something. Patience isn’t always my strong point. If I’m honest with myself, it’s still easy for me to become self-centered and think her feelings are all about me when they may be about something going on with one of the kids or with a friend. There are times when I want her, as with many issues in my life, to just “get it over with” because I need to find resolution. I still want to know outcomes long before I need to know them. I’m still able to drive myself crazy with all the unlikely scenarios running through my head. I just want to “know” what’s going on. As my friend Edgar always likes to remind me, “What do you know when you know?” Fortunately, we share the core value of faith in a loving God and it doesn’t take near as long to get out of self-centeredness and back to letting God run the show. That seems to work better for all involved. Go figure…

I know the rules sound silly, but they work for us. We’ve have learned to keep it simple and that may not work for everyone else. The rules work so well because we trust one another. We trust each other because we learned to trust ourselves. We learned to trust ourselves by learning to trust the loving God to whom we surrendered to. If he has our back it’s become pretty, darn easy to look out for, and love one another, the way he loves us.

I know it’s only been five-and-a-half years, but I’m beginning to realize that we share the same thing as all those old couples I used to be so envious of. The irony is that I always thought I had to work so hard for happiness, but the reality is that when I quit working for it, I received it in abundance. Now I get to share it with the love of my life and sometimes I don’t even have to say anything at all…

Christianity, Faith, Prayer, Recovery, Spirituality, Trust, Uncategorized

Jet Planes and Donkeys

gregoryjoel

Memorial Day weekend is over. It’s traditionally been the start of summer, though the summer equinox is still three weeks away. After sitting on the porch for a while this morning I’m inclined to say it’s officially summer. We’re going to end the month of May with 100 degree-plus temperatures and start June with the same. So far, we’re in the running for the second hottest month of May on record, although we still have a couple of days to go yet. It seems hotter weather is becoming the norm as each year seems to be in the top two or three warmest years. However, it probably snowed somewhere justifying the claims of “climate deniers”. Such blatant disregard for God’s creation and the future of my grandkids makes me want to throw up.

I was perusing the news feed this morning, as is my habit. It seems things go on as usual, and there were a couple of things that simply broke my heart. How some people in the world treat other people really gets to me, even though I’ve come to expect a daily exposition of xenophobic tribalism, misogyny, and oppression. I could get really depressed and complacent about it, but fortunately it only steels my resolve to love others better. I’m responsible for my actions today. I know who I serve and I try my best to show it in my actions. I really want to live loving God and loving others. As Bob Dylan said, “You gotta serve somebody…”

I guess that’s why I got so upset when I came across an article from the New Orleans newspaper, The  Times-Picayune about Louisiana televangelist, Jesse Duplantis, asking for donations for a new $54 million private jet. Now remember, I live in Fort Worth, Texas, the “buckle of the Bible belt”, so I shouldn’t be shocked by such revelations. After all, Kenneth Copeland Ministries is only a few miles away with his “compound”, armed security, and a private jet or two. It’s a “Prosperity Gospel” televangelist kind of thing. Still, this story got to me. Duplantis’ claim that if Jesus were here today, “he’d have a jet” made me so angry I was fit to be tied (for a while, anyway). At the risk of sounding self-righteous, I’ll tell you why.

I am a follower of Jesus, which earns me the religious designation of “Christian”. I’m extremely uneasy with that religious title today because of stories like the one I read this morning. More importantly, I really want to live out of the faith I have today and sharing the “Good News”. I guess that makes me an “evangelical” (from the Greek “euangelion”, the good news, from “euangelos” bringing good news, from “eu- + angelos” messenger – Merriam-Webster) Christian. I’ve found a relationship with God that works, and I want to share it. As St. Francis said, “Preach often. If necessary, use words”. Since the majority of communication is non-verbal (just ask my wife when I let out a heavy sigh…), I hope my actions speak louder than my words. I hope my actions shout out the relationship I have with God today.

I guess that’s why I’m so angry today. I’m sick and tired of my faith being co-opted by the likes of the Duplantis’, Copelands, and Falwells of this world. I’m not some right-wing, gun-toting, “America first”, pseudo-patriot portrayed by the media (and often rightly so). I’m not some “wolf in sheep’s clothing” religious charlatan praying on others with a promise of prosperity if you’ll just send in money today. It sickens me to think of those that do. I left the faith for many years because I didn’t want to be associated with that type of “Christian”.

Today I find my heart broken when I hear of stories like the one about Jesse Duplantis. The God I’ve come to know isn’t a Santa Clause-god, making a list and checking it twice, waiting to shower good little boys and girls with all kinds of financial blessings, content to leave the rest of us with a lump of coal. The God I’ve come to know isn’t some petty little dictator who demands perfection from His subjects. The God I’ve come to know isn’t interested in self-righteous piety or earning my way into His good graces. That’s why my heart breaks every time I read a story like this one.

The God I’ve come to know has simplified my life and definitely changed my understanding of prosperity. I don’t have a private jet, nor do I need one, but I’ve become indescribably rich. Jesus said He came to give me life – abundantly. That has come true for me today. I often hear that God “wants me to be happy”. I not sure I entirely agree. I do believe He wants me to live joyously – regardless of what’s going on. I believe He wants me to love Him and love others. I believe He wants me to trust Him and to live freely. It’s all pretty darn simple! When I get wrapped up in my own plots and plans He patiently showers me with boundless grace. I don’t have to be perfect. I just need to be me. I like the me I’m becoming.

I must confess that sometimes I’m as judgmental and self-righteous as the “church” I complain about. Yet, I know there are thousands of other followers of Jesus who are living out their faith in wonderful, if imperfect, ways. I’ve experienced their grace many times over. They show me what God is like. Sometimes it’s hard to separate the “wheat from the chaff” if you know what I mean. Sometimes my frustration with so many churches is that even good church leaders fail to share about their imperfections. What I hear is impossible standards for me to live up to.

I guess that’s why I’d rather be labeled something other than “evangelical” Christian even if that’s what I am.  I’d much rather be thought of as a follower of the Rabbi, Jesus. He turned the world, and my thinking, upside down and gave me a new pair of eyes to see the world with. He did it free of charge and didn’t even ask me for my last ten dollars. Now that’s a deal! Oh, and by the way, the Jesus I know still prefers donkeys to private jets…

 

Christianity, Chronic Illness, Faith, Gardening, Health, Recovery, Relationships, Spirituality, Trust, Uncategorized

Grateful Gardening

gregoryjoel

Today could more accurately be titled “Thoughts from the Garden”. I still haven’t been able to get back to the morning routine. Margaret had a procedure this morning to alleviate some of the pain in her back. Everything went well, and we are waiting anxiously to see if it helps. So, instead of the porch I spent some time in the garden. When I got home Thursday, the plants had grown huge during my absence –  beans, yellow squash, tomatoes, and peppers were abundantly ripe for the picking. It never ceases to amaze me how easy it is to raise our own produce (which is far more delicious than the local grocery store to boot!) when we keep it organic and do it God’s way.

I have to take a lot of breaks while spending time in the garden. Apparently, I’m not supposed to sweat because of my PICC line, so as not to get another infection. I’m following the doctor’s orders, although I not sure how I’m going to stay sweat-free during the summertime in Texas. I only need to open the front door and I’m suddenly thankful for anti-perspirant. I wonder if I can smear it all over. I’m just saying…

I’m really excited about being home and more grateful than you can possibly know. I have a couple of projects that need to be completed for work and there is one special project that I can’t wait to tell you about. I plan to begin sharing some of the details as we grow closer to its launch. It’s one that you can all be a part of in some way. I’m bursting at the seams to tell somebody! Patience, patience, patience…

Life, with all its inherent ups and downs is so much easier when I stay grateful. Unfortunately, I suffer from the all-too human malady of self-centeredness that makes staying grateful difficult at times. I forget how to “roll with the flow” and I like to “complicate the cornflakes” as my friend Jim used to say. I have this little switch inside that shifts poles from positive to negative whenever I feel threatened – and by “threatened” I mean fearful and, If I’m really honest, it simply means I’m afraid I won’t get my way. I’ve gotten far less self-centered as I’ve grown older, but it’s still easy to drop gratitude like a hot rock when I get in fear of not getting what I want or losing what I have. Sometimes, it’s relatively easy to get it back and sometimes it’s not. Either way, I know gratitude is the stabilizer on my ride through life.

Gratitude is one of those “Which came first – the chicken or the egg?” Zen-like questions. When I am grateful for the life I have, I seem to be at peace and I’m able to act from a center of kindness and compassion. Then there are times when peace and serenity is the farthest thing from my mind, but I act kindly toward the world around me, my attitude changes and I become grateful. I finally decide to quit trying to figure it out and just let it happen.

I have a friend in recovery who always says, “a grateful addict will never use”. I’ve found that to be true in recovery from addiction, but one doesn’t have to be an addict to appreciate that statement. My experience with people from all walks of life and, regardless of their issues, has shown me that kind, caring and loving people always seem to exude gratitude – they take nothing for granted. Essentially, grateful people find it difficult to be selfish and self-centered and always seem to be the people I want to be around. I don’t have a bunch of initials behind my name, and I can’t cite specific studies or offer scientific proof for why gratitude is essential to living well. It just is, at least as far as I can see…

I don’t want to take up anyone’s Friday-before-Memorial Day weekend with a long post, but I encourage you all to practice gratitude. You see, gratitude takes practice. You only “feel” it by practicing it, because at it’s heart, it’s a verb, an action, a way of living. I must admit, I had difficulty with gratitude for a long time. Over the years I learned to listen to my “predecessors”, people who were farther along in life. They told me that if I was having difficulty with the gratitude thing, then make a list of the things I’m grateful for. It was a pretty short list starting out. I had a friend everyone called “I ate today Stan” because he was always grateful for a roof over his head and eating that day. He probably taught me more about being grateful than anyone. I really miss him but I’m so thankful he was my friend. “Just keep it simple”. I did and now the list fills a lot of legal pads…

Christianity, Chronic Illness, Faith, Health, Prayer, Recovery, Relationships, Spirituality, Trust, Uncategorized

At least I have insurance…

gregoryjoel

I was finally able to have some thoughts from the porch this morning. If you read on, you’ll know why I haven’t been able to post anything for the last several days. I’ve missed my porch like you wouldn’t believe. My front porch represents everything good and wonderful in my little world – my wife, my kids and grandkids, my dogs, my friends, and most of all, my God – the things that have real value; that are truly important. I never knew how much I missed my mornings on the porch until I couldn’t be there. I’m sorry for the longer read than usual. Maybe you can relate to it.

Before we jump off though I need to say a heartfelt thank you to Jodi, Jennifer, and Mary – the house looks great! Margaret and I don’t know what we’d do without you all; without our “village”. So, without further ado…

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21st May 2018:   “I’m going to try this again”. That phrase has been repeated a lot the last few days. You see, I haven’t posted anything since Mother’s Day as I’ve been in the hospital since last week. I can’t get the “guest” wi-fi to work and the constant in and out of nurses, technicians, and doctors has caused me too many stops and starts. Add to that the fact that all I can think about is going home and the result is writer’s block. So, I’m going to try this again…

I’m beyond tired of this place. The staff here is amazing. The nurses and doctors are wonderful, but I miss my wife, my dogs, and my front porch. Joni Mitchell was right, “you don’t know what you got ‘til it’s gone”. I’ve listened to Joni for a long time and maybe that’s why I always end conversations with “I love you”. There are times life shows up and things change in an instant. Whether it’s a temporary absence or a permanent one, I certainly don’t want to leave “I love you” unsaid to the people in my life. I may only be in a hospital room down the road, but I feel like I might as well be on the moon.

So here I sit, hooked up to an IV pole, wishing I was enjoying the gorgeous spring day from the comfort of my porch rather than seeing it through the window of this hospital room. Apparently, I have an infection related to my bout with brain surgery and meningitis several years ago. My doctor says it’s far more serious than I would like to think. I have to be on IV antibiotics for the next eight weeks because if the infection enters my bloodstream I risk going septic and all that entails. Moreover, it’s only a couple of millimeters from my cerebellum and that’s not good. I told her there’s nothing there to get infected, but she didn’t see the humor in that. So, even if I’m feeling better today, there are some serious goings-on underneath the surface. Ain’t that always the case…

Being hooked up to an IV isn’t so bad. I’ve dealt with that several times in the past. It’s always been a few days of inconvenience. What is bad is that Medicare, in its infinite wisdom, doesn’t want to pay unless I go to a “skilled nursing facility” (the politically correct way of saying “nursing home”) for ongoing treatment. I’m not sure why as they didn’t seem to have a problem with home infusion treatment five years ago. Not only was I able to be home with my family back then, it was much cheaper than being in a rehab facility. I guess cheaper home care doesn’t make much sense to Medicare. Then again common sense doesn’t apply to insurance companies. No wonder healthcare is so expensive!

So, I’m in limbo as to when I get to go home and I’m experiencing some serious fear here. The “what ifs” have reached critical levels here. “what if” I’m not home to take care of Margaret? “What if” I’m not home to take care of the bills and the house (as if she wasn’t handling those things before we ever married…)? “What if” my new business venture fails because I’m locked away in a nursing home (even if it is for only a couple of months)? “What if” I’m destined to eat nursing home food for the next eight weeks? Suddenly, sepsis sounds like a viable alternative…

“What if, what if, what if” – I’ve made myself miserable and wrapped myself in fear in short course. So, I did what people like me do: I changed the way I felt (I just heard a collective gasp from my friends in recovery…). I prayed and took a nap. You see, sleep changes the way I feel. God instructed the Hebrew people to enjoy the Sabbath rest. I get it. There’s power in napping. It’s a brief escape from uncomfortable and, sometimes, painful situations. Somehow, I see the situation more clearly upon awakening. I spoke to my wife, my close friends, and had a long conversation with God. Now I’m able to react more appropriately even though my problem still exists. Pre-nap, I wanted to rip the PICC line out of my arm and call an Uber. Post-nap, I’m still tethered to the IV pole but I’m making the phone calls necessary to solve my dilemma. Changing the way I feel means something different today.

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22nd May 2018   I’ve had a good night’s sleep and a morning of prayer since I started writing this. I still don’t have a resolution to the “skilled nursing facility” question, but I know God has already taken care of it. I’m not as fearful and anxious as I was yesterday. I keep hearing a gentle, sweet voice saying, “look at the lilies of the field… aren’t you worth more than all of them”?

My beautiful and incredible wife has reminded me over and over that we’ve been through worse and that we have an amazing village of friends and family who have always walked with us. She even took the humbling step of asking for help via a gofundme page. Although this medical stuff couldn’t have happened at a worse time, I wasn’t too thrilled with that idea until she reminded me that “a closed mouth doesn’t get fed”. Her capacity for humility far exceeds mine. I want to be like her when I grow up.

This whole situation is another reminder that God always has my back and my best interests at heart no matter what’s going on. Yesterday, my prayers, my conversation with God contained some words I’d rather not put in print. My prayers were, like so many of the Psalms, a lament going up to God. My fears, my doubt, my feelings of abandonment, and frustration poured out and as they did I began to feel a sense of peace. God cares how I feel. He listens. He lets me vent my frustration. I’ve come to learn that He far prefers the authenticity of gut-wrenching and even colorful language to the posturing and “thee’s” and “thou’s” of my youth. He’s more than just a theological concept. He’s my “Abba” (Hebrew for “dad”). Because he loves me, I can bring everything to Him. Everything’s okay…

I still don’t know what the outcome is going to be, but I felt peace and clarity. I was able to make calls to the insurance company and others involved. Dealing with health insurance is NOT, I repeat NOT, a pleasant experience! Still, I treated the person on the other end of the line with courtesy and kindness. I was able to practice my doctor’s admonition to deal with them firmly without getting hung up on.

I didn’t feel much like being kind, at least not yesterday. Still, acting kindly, regardless of my feelings, has its own reward – a sense of calm and a positive change of heart. I didn’t talk to any of “those” people. I talked to another person like me just trying to make the day and provide for their family. They weren’t out to screw over Greg Joel. Imagine that…

Engaging in honest, authentic prayer, relying on a “village” of family and friends, and putting one foot in front of the other made yesterday’s crisis today’s simple annoyance. It will be okay whether I go home or have to go to a “skilled nursing facility” (that really does sound better than “nursing home…). In the grand scheme of things, two months isn’t that big a deal. I still miss my wife, my dogs, and my old front porch. It might just take me a while to get there.

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May 23rd – as my friend Edgar says, “Day eight of the hostage situation…”

I’m still here in the Harris tower of the hospital. It might as well be the Tower of London, except for the torture chambers, beheadings, and such. Okay, maybe not like the Tower of London at all. It just feels that way. Don’t tell me you don’t exaggerate your feelings…

I may be stuck here again today, but this is really nothing compared with what the majority of folks deal with. I have a roof over my head, food (even if it is hospital food) to eat, and clean water to drink. As frustrating as Medicare can be, I have it despite living in a state where uninsured medical care is the norm. I have this great view of downtown from my sixth-floor window and the staff here has been beyond fantastic. I start with the simple things and my gratitude list goes on and on…

Later in the day…

I tried to expound on my experience with gratitude today, but I just heard the news – the insurance approved my home IV infusion. I’m going home. Go figure…