A Father A Daughter and A Dog

     This story has been around for a while and I have read it several times. Today it just really spoke to me. I especially love the last sentence. God does answer our prayers but it is all in His own time. I thank Him for the answered prayers for my family and friends who are experiencing some health challenges now. I pray that you enjoy this story as much as I did and that it speaks to you.

A story by Catherine Moore

    "Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!" My father yelled at me. "Can't you do anything right?"
    Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle.
    "I saw the car, Dad . Please don't yell at me when I'm driving.."
    My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt.
    Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts.... dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil. What could I do about him?
    Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon . He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess.
    The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man.
    Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing.
    At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived. But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone...
    My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust.
    Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue.
    Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad’s troubled mind.
    But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it.
    The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered in vain.
    Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, "I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article.."
    I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog.
    I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon.. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world's aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed.
    Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hip bones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly.
    I pointed to the dog. "Can you tell me about him?" The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement. "He's a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow." He gestured helplessly.
    As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror.. "You mean you're going to kill him?"
    "Ma'am," he said gently, "that's our policy. We don't have room for every unclaimed dog."
    I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. "I'll take him," I said. I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me.. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch... "Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad !" I said excitedly.
    Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. "If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want it" Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house.
    Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples. "You'd better get used to him, Dad. He's staying!"
    Dad ignored me.. "Did you hear me, Dad?" I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate. We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw..
    Dad’s lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal.
    It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne . Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet.                                           

     Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years.. Dad’s bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne 's cold nose burrowing through our bed covers He had never before come into our bedroom at night.. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.
    Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad’s bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad’s peace of mind.
    The morning of Dad’s funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life.
    And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it."
    "I've often thanked God for sending that angel," he said.
    For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before:  the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article... Cheyenne 's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter. . ..his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father. . and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all.
    Life is too short for drama or petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and forgive quickly. Live While You Are Alive. Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a second time.
    And if you don't send this to at least 4 people ---nobody cares?  But do share this with someone. Lost time can never be found.
    God answers our prayers in His time........not ours..

Friends

It doesn't take much to look around and find others who need prayers more than I do. It seems like when it rains it pours. Today, I am saying lots of prayers for my friends. One friend had surgery last week. She is doing better but is experiencing some exhaustion and some side effects from the surgery that she didn't expect. Another friend is having surgery on Friday. She has cancer in the lower lobe of her right lung and will have it removed on Friday. Another friend is in the hospital with a bacterial infection in her stomach. The doctors are unsure how to treat her and she is experiencing terrible pain. Another blog friend with MG is experiencing some challenges with how to treat her MG. She had an allergic reaction to the newest medication and will not be able to take it again. She and her doctors are exploring ways to best treat her MG.

I am so grateful that God hears our prayers and that He is our loving Father, Comforter and the Great Physician. To my dear friends, please know that I am lifting you up to our Father in Heaven. I pray that He will hold you in His loving arms, that the doctors will have supernatural wisdom in how to treat each of you and that you will experience His comfort and healing power. "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God." Philippians 4:6

The Numbers

On Friday, I received a call from the doctor's office at the research hospital. The doctor asked the nurse to call me about my blood work results. The tests were to determine the amount of antibodies that I am producing as a result of the MG. The normal range on the first test is between 0.0 - 0.4 and my results were 120! I asked her to repeat that several times because I thought I had not heard her correctly. The normal range on the second test is between 0 - 15. My results were 69. When I was originally diagnosed in 2003 the results on the first test were 74 so I have increased the amount of antibodies in the past 7 1/2 years. I asked the nurse to please tell me what that means. She told me that she is new to the neurology department and didn't know :/ She is going to send a copy of the report to me and to Dr. K. I will talk to Dr. K to discuss the results. I am confused about what it means. I have tried to look up the meaning on several websites but they are like reading Greek to me. So, I will wait to speak with Dr. K. The nurse did tell me that the doctor would still like for me to do the clinicial trial. I told her that Dr. K and I have some serious misgivings about it and that I would not consider doing it without Dr. K's blessing.

I think that I have made the right decision to not participate in the clinical trial. It seems that more information keeps being thrown my way to muddle up the mess. It has been so helpful for me to remember that my God is not a God of confusion. If I trust in Him, He will direct my path. I know that I have shared my favorite Bible verse before but it is so appropriate today. "Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you saying, 'This is the way, walk in it'". Isaiah 30:21

Decision Made

After prayer, conversations with Dr. K's Lisa (nurse) and a phone call to the research hospital I have decided not to participate in the clinical trial. It is definitely the right decision for me and I feel completely at peace with the choice. I asked Dr. K's questions that I wish I had thought to ask when I was there. The clinical trial is for a medication to improve muscle strength. The goal of the study is to determine if this medication helps myasthenics by improving the muscle strength. I have been through the experience frequently when my muscle strength is bad. I am not interested in taking a chance to just test a drug for muscle strength. No thank you!!! I am going to see Dr. K in May and he and I are going to talk about some of the other options that were discussed last week. But for now I am maintaining status quo.

I am grateful to have felt so good this weekend and today. In fact, I took Mia for a walk this afternoon. It was the first walk I have had in a long time. It felt great and Mia barked at every leaf she saw. Bella refused to go. Poor Bella is afraid of her shadow. I think she needs doggie Prozac.

It feels so good to have made the decision about the clinical trial. Now I am looking forward to exploring other options in the upcoming couple of months.

"And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us. We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith. Because of the joy awaiting him, he endured the cross, disregarding its shame. Now he is seated in the place of honor beside God’s throne. Think of all the hostility he endured from sinful people; then you won’t become weary and give up."  Hebrews 12:1-3

Decisions, Part 2

After playing lots of phone tag, I finally spoke to Dr. K's nurse. He has some concerns about the clinical trial and some questions that I did not think to ask. A part of the protocol for doing the clinical trial is that I have to be off of IVIG completely for 6 weeks prior to beginning the study drug and I can't do any IVIG until the clinical trial is completed. Dr. K wants me to consider how being off IVIG for this long may impact my health. He is concerned that I may get very sick again and that it may take a long time for me to bounce back again. Lisa, his nurse, asked me several times, "Do they know how bad you were?" Nobody really knows how bad I was except Dr. K. I still think about the morning in my hospital room when I thanked him for saving my life and he told me that he had not saved my life Karen had. It is a little scary to think about being as sick as I have been for the past 10 months and terrifying to think about how sick I was a few years ago.

So, today I am going to call and ask some more questions about the clinical trial. I want to be as informed as I can to make the best decision that I can.

"I lift up my eyes to the hills- Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot slip -
He who watches over you will not slumber;
Indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.
The LORD watches over you
The LORD is your shade at your right hand;
The sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night.
The LORD will keep you from all harm -
He will watch over your life;
The LORD will watch over your coming and going
Both now and forevermore."
Psalm 121"

Decisions

It has been a long time but I am finally back to writing a post. I made the trip to the research hospital. It was about what I expected. I met with the chairperson of the neurology department and one of the doctors who is getting specialization in neurology. They did several muscle tests, asked tons of questions, took blood and sent me for an EMG. There was a lot of good news, I thought. The doctor thought I was doing well that day and my EMG results were normal. He said that I can continue to do the same treatment that I am currently doing with IVIG every three weeks but that I do have some other options. He wants me to consider becoming a part of a clinical trial study on a new drug. There are only 2 research hospitals in the U.S. that have been approved for the study. I have several concerns about the clinical trial that I am going to consider and talk to Dr. K about. I need some good advice and counsel from family, friends and doctors to help me make my decision.

I am so grateful that Todd went with me. It helps to have another pair of eyes and ears. Now, I have some decisions to make and some consulting to do before I make the final decision of what to do.
"The way of a fool is right in his own eyes, but a wise man listens to advice." Proverbs 12:15

Out of Pocket

Every time I say or think about being "out of pocket" it reminds me of my daddy. He had a zillion sayings. He knew a saying for every occasion. There is not a single day he does not come to my mind or that I don't quote something that he used to say. My life was richly blessed to have a loving father. He knew how to love me but he also knew how to love my mom. The love, respect and devotion that he showed to my mom is a testament to the kind of man he was. I miss my daddy.

I am going to be out of pocket for the next week. So, I won't be making any posts. I will be back to blogging the end of next week. May God bless you and keep you safely in His loving care.