Image by my_new_wintercoat via Flickr

This post has some really bad news and some potentially really good news.  I’m hoping you’ll think about the good more than the bad.  I’ll start off with the bad.

The bad news.

I’m not going to say much about it because, well, I can’t do anything about it and I don’t want any kind of repercussions from it.  So, here is the bad news…quickly.

Some of you know, most of you don’t.  Thirteen days after my surgery, the boss at work wanted to meet with me.  After 11 years of service, through some good times and through some not so good times, I was informed that I was not going to be going back to work for my, well, previous employer now.  Yeah, I was fired.  Wasn’t happy.  Still ain’t and for so many reasons.  They were nice enough to continue my insurance and disability until March.

Not sure what’s going to happen come March.  Especially seeing that I’m not well enough to work yet.  And still having tests etc.  But, it’s going to be just fine.  I’ve complete faith in God.

The good news.

I’ve written several posts about going back to school and getting my education in Bible or ministry and also being a counselor.  That word, ministry, is such a broad area that I can’t pinpoint which direction I’m going to be going, but I’m really feeling lead to be in the pulpit.

I’ve mentioned taking online courses at Liberty University and I got pretty far into that process, but with my back being the way it is, I put it on the back burner on simmer.  Well, there is a good possibility that I’ll be taking it completely off the stove after tomorrow.

This past week I went to the church offices and had a good long let-it-out session.  By the end of the session we had pretty much determined that this was just God’s way of closing one door and opening a window, somewhere.  I had thought that myself and to hear him say it only made it even more real, if you know what I mean.

I thought my next step might be to get a job and that’s not necessarily so.  I had to decide what I was/wanted to do.  Since it’s been on my heart for so long, getting into ministry is what I want to do.  Education will be my first major step and there is no better time like the present.  That’s what I’m praying for anway.

After the decision was made, my minister since then has made some phone calls and we have a meeting for 9:30 tomorrow morning with an adviser, maybe a professor at David Lipscomb University in Nashville.  Then, we’ll just see where God leads me from there.

I do have some things going through my head as far as income goes.  Got insurance to worry about and that sort of thing.  And of course, there is the whole issue with the back that’s ongoing (no word on an MRI yet).  But, tomorrow, the meeting is my first step and a huge leap of faith.  I couldn’t be more excited.

Because of HIM

SC

I can’t do a lot to help folks these days, but I did run across a buddies tweet and then read his blog and found a way that I could help, and did.  I’m helping not just one person, but many in a country, India, where the Word needs and is being spread.

Basically all they are requesting is a donation of $1 to purchase a netbook for a pastor in India.  Rather than me repeating what Brad and Shawn have said, just go visit  Brad’s blog or go directly to Shawnw’s blog who has more information on the mission in India.

I’ve also included a way you can go and directly ChipIn if you want.

God bless you.

Because of HIM

SC

Hey there! Did ya miss me? I’ve missed writing…a LOT. I hope to get back in the swing of things before too long.

For now though, I’m just testing out mobile blogging. “What is THAT?”, you say. Well, I’ve an app on my HTC Eris super-smartphone that I can use to post instead of being tied to a computer. Super sweet so far.

I do want to share a pic of my new, fake, parts that I received on Jan 6th. I think it looks just like me. Hope it shows in the post. Not sure where it will, but I’m sure if it does you’ll know what it is

Stay tuned for some GREAT news!

Because of HIM
SC

The morning of the surgery wasn’t bad really.  Ok, there are parts to the morning that were bad.  The worst part, for a while, was not being able to drink anything.  More specifically, not being able to drink coffee!

I’m thinking part of that was a mind over matter issue.  The command, “Don’t drink anything after midnight the night before surgery”, made not being able to drink coffee worse, I think.  You know, if someone tells you you can’t do something, what’s the first thing you want to do?  That very thing.  Same principle with the coffee.  I think if they were to rephrase all of that “after midnight” mess, us real folks would be able to deal with it better.

I wasn’t as nervous as I thought I was going to be, for a while.  I took to my own little world on the trip down and stayed there as long as I could.  It really kept the nerves at bay. 

At this point I would say the most worrisome issue was coming home the next day.  Lots of snow was expected.  My mom would be driving me back home, which is worrisome in and of itself.  Add to that that she hasn’t driven in Nashville much, if at all, plus the addition of snow.  Which is why we had planned on staying overnight the next night in a hotel if necessary.  Turns out we didn’t have to do that.  Mom drove us home, with some directions, just fine.  And, I only dirtied up 2 pair of underwear on the trip home.

Anyway, I arrived at the hospital and waited in the waiting room.  There were about a gazillion other folks there, so I thought I was going to have to wait a while.  I was still doing much better than I thought I would be.  A little nervous by now I’m sure.  But, I was ready to get this over with.

The waiting wasn’t that long and the time between the waiting room and making it upstairs to my room, was uneventful.  It was a very nice room, might I add.  The room was probably between 200 and 300 sq. ft. Half hardwood half normal hospital flooring.  It had a couch that folded out to a bed and it also had a chair and a nice little table between the two.  AND I didn’t have to share the room with anyone.

I did wait in my room for about an hour before anything happened.  Then, the nurse came in and she brought my nerves with her.

Because of HIM

SC

CRASH! CRASH! BOOM! PFFSSHHTT!

“SCOTT!”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Carful he’s pulled out his IV!”

“SCOTT! WAKE UP!”

“I’M ALIVE!!!”  That was the first thought that came to me as I awoke looking up into the bright lights of what I assume was  from the the operating room.  I only assume because I was barely coherent.

I had been dreaming while I was under sedation.  I can’t remember what it was about exactly, but I remember being in a sword fight.  Fitting, I guess.  Dreaming of swords while undergoing the knife.

There were some more words from the guy behind me.  He wasn’t speaking to me.  I remember some expletives that I’ll not share with you but I heard him say, “CENSORED CENSORED!! He’s pulled out his IV!  Right there!”

A female voice said something that I couldn’t understand.

“I don’t give a CENSORED!  Needs to worry about the patient instead of that CENSORED CENSORED stupid phone.”

“Scott!  You’re OK!  You pulled out your IV,  just calm down for us!”

I did.

“Right there it’s on his side,” he said to the female voice.

“Sorry.” I said.  Tried to say anyway.  It was pretty hard to talk.

“It’s ok Scott.  You didn’t know what you were doing.”

My throat felt as if an elephant was sitting  on it and he had glass shards on his rump.  They had said I would have a sore throat when I awoke.  Couldn’t have been a more gross understatement.  Obviously, this guy has never been intubated.  Ever tried to swallow with an elephant on your throat?  It hurts.

A quick check of my teeth to make sure that all of my caps were in place and no chipped teeth.  The anesthesiologist said that in some cases they do slightly chip patients teeth while intubating.  Everything seemed to be in place.  It was hard to tell since my tongue, mouth, and lips felt as if they were covered by 100 grit sandpaper.  Covered or replaced that is.

“Chapstick.” I screamed in a barely audible rough voice.

“What?”  the sore throat guy said.

“I need some chapstick. Lips dry.”  I said in that very same rough scraggly voice that sounded like someone who had just had a tube yanked from his throat.  That’s right.  The first thing I asked for that I can remember was, chapstick.  I can’t stand dry lips.  I think there will be tons and tons of chapstick in Heaven.

“We might have some grease for your lips.” the female voice said.  Don’t think I ever got my chapstick or my grease until later.

“Mouth’s dry,” was my next attempt at a statement.  Soon after I had a mouthful of ice.  Now that I think about it, I wonder if they shoved so much in there just so that I couldn’t talk?  Didn’t care.  It was the BEST ice ever and at least the sandpaper was going away.

“HURTS!”

“OK. Just give me one second and I’ll fix you up.” Jan said.  That was the nurse that got me ready for surgery and also was there to wake me up.

My vision was blurry.  I was back in my room now.  Still not sure exactly how I got back to my room.  A very nice room at that.  I’ll have more about that in my next post. 

I looked at the clock.  Almost 1:30PM.  Surgery had taken about an hour or so.  I then glanced at the motion to my left and saw Jan moving toward my IV tubes, hoping she was about to administer something for this excruciating pain that was coming on me from so many different places.

“OH! IT HURTS!”

“Here is some Fentanyl,” Jan said.

“Ahhhh.” came the last thought I had as the medicine hit the pain.

And I slept.

Because of HIM

SC

Eight days until surgery.  A watched pot never boils.  I get it.

After stopping and starting and stopping one of the medications I’ve been taking, I’m once again on the starting side of that see-saw.  Sunday and Monday were absolutely horrible days when it comes to my pain level.  Sunday was off the charts and Monday was just barely on the chart.  So, I started the meds again yesterday afternoon and though I am hurting quite a bit today, it’s not like the last two by far.

So now I’m enjoying a lower level of pain while also just tolerating the side effects of this medication that I keep stopping and starting.  I’m much more tired, seem to be a bit more depressed, and really have zero motivation to do much of anything.  In fact, I’m a bit surprised that I’ve had the motivation to spew out these words as I have.

Do I think the side effects are worth it?  I should say so.  I’m so relieved that there’s only 8 more days.  Even the thought of the possibility of having to take this medication and feel like THIS forever, even with a lower level of pain, is not a very nice thought to entertain.

I’m not nervous about the surgery, yet.  There is one tiny part of the procedure that causes me a bit of worry, though.

For the surgeon to have access to the vertebrates (C6-C7) he is going to go in through my neck.  No, that doesn’t bother me.  He will then have to move my esophagus to the right a bit, just so that it’s out of the way.  Still, not very worrisome (though I do wonder how much of a sore throat I’ll have afterwords).

Now, this next part is the bit that causes the worry.  Just like moving my esophagus to the right, he’ll have to move my carotid artery to the left some just so it’s also out of the way.  I’m thinking that’s an important piece that I’ll need him to keep intact.  I’m hoping he goes easy on the coffee that morning.

Well, now that I’ve went over a little bit of the procedure with you, got a bit of the nerves stirred up.  It’ll pass.  It will all pass.

Think it’s time for a nap now.

Because of HIM,

SC

Ten days until surgery and I’m still well beyond ready for it.  A big reason I’m ready is so I can get off this medication.

From the beginning of this mess, the pain meds were a huge concern for me because of the issues with addiction that I have.  While I was in rehab, there were folks there that were addicted dependant on pain pills because of pretty much the same issue that I’ve got.  They had become dependant on them from the process of having to fight pain.  I don’t want that to be me.

To fight the issue I’ve made sure that on just about every visit to the Dr. I remind them about my issues with addiction.  I make sure they understand that I’m bothered by the possibility of becoming dependant on pain pills.  Every time I’m reassured that he will not let me get to that point.  Still, even being under the doctors care, it’s a concern.  My thoughts are it’s most likely good to have that concern otherwise I think there is more of a chance of falling down that path.

Another problem that I’ve had with the medication is that it’s really messed with me on an emotionally level.  Sure, I’m not hurting as much physically, but mentally it’s been like living in a torture chamber. 

I’ve not felt like doing anything.  No motivation to get motivated.  Some of the lack of motivation is from the pain in general.  There are days, even with so much medication, that it hurts to do anything, so I don’t.

Depression is another word that gets thrown around a lot.  I just don’t feel like Scott.  Most of the time I feel like I’m only existing, and that’s all.  Again, part of that is from the pain.  I think, rather I hope, that the majority of the depression is coming from the medication itself.

Part of me looks back on all of this and I think to myself that with all of the negative that seems to be coming from the medication, there is no way I could become addicted to the stuff.  Having been an addict, I don’t see how others are addicted to the mess.  As soon as I typed that last sentence I was rushed back to my days of drinking and I remember how awful I felt during that time.  Sleepy, depressed, etc., and I see how others are addicted.

I’ve already started the process of stopping one of the medications that I’ve been taking.  I have  had to increase another to fight the pain that is normally masked by the one that I’ve stopped.   Still, it’s one less that I’m hoping to have to deal with when the time comes.

Can I tell that I’ve stopped?  YES!  The one that I’ve stopped was really doing a good job of masking some pain.  It’s not masked anymore.  Pain levels have increased exponentially but no withdrawals that I was concerned about.  I did take it again for a couple of days through Christmas after being off of it for 4 days or so, that’s when the pain level shot up.  I’ve now stopped it again and today has been a really rough day.

I think I can make it 10 more days though.  The light keeps getting brighter and brighter.

Because of HIM,

SC

Image by minifig via Flickr

Hope you have a wonderful, blessed, and merry Christmas.

Because of HIM,

SC

Image by angelsk via Flickr

It’s been a really rough/tough year.  The bulging disc I have in my neck has caused pain that has pretty much taken over life.  It has been hard to do anything because the pain is so prominent.  Even writing here on the blog has been tough, as you can tell from my absence.  I have desires to write, but those desires soon gets taken over by the pain and I don’t want to do anything but make it go away.  I’m hoping that gets resolved soon because I really miss writing and doing other things that I like and finding new things that I don’t know that I like.

Some may not know this, but on Jan 6th at noon, I’ll be going under the knife.  A 45 minute surgery to perform a disc fusion in my neck.  I’m ready for it.  I’m beyond ready to get rid of this pain and get some normalcy of life back.  Including writing and everything else I’ve been wanting to do.

So, I’ve been thinking.  Scary, I know.  If you are just starting recovery and you feel on top of the world, let me warn you.  You are going to experience life’s hardships.

The first year of my recovery I can remember how great everything was.  I felt invincible almost.  It was a feeling like I had reached the pinnacle of life and I could handle anything that came at me.

During the second year, reality struck and life hasn’t been so easy.  Reality being that I’m not even close to invincible.  Situations ARE going to come up that I have absolutely zero control over.

Situations have occurred where I knew that I needed to listen to God and let him take control.  I’ve really struggled with those situations the most.  Mainly because I want control.  Even if I tell myself and tell God that I’m letting him have it, I can’t keep my paws off of it.  It’s selfishness, and us alcoholics thrive on it.  One hundred percent of the time, those situations don’t go away and often they get worse.  Still, I want control.  And it doesn’t help that I’m not real sure how we are supposed to let go of it.  So, I’ve been trying to figure that out within the last quarter of this year.  It’s a work in progress.

I’m so glad that during that first year of recovery I worked hard on my new foundation.  I’m glad that I had taken so much time recognizing that God is my rock.

I shutter to think how much different this year could have been had I not done exactly everything that I did during the first year.  I would be lying if I said that during this rough time I’ve never had a thought about alcohol.  There have been times where it would have been so easy to give in.  But, I thank God that I was given the chance to build my relationship with him.  It’s because of that, that I didn’t let any of those thoughts hang around and I didn’t act on any of them.

For your recovery’s sake, if you don’t believe in God, find your higher power and sink as much time as you can into recognizing just how powerful and wonderful and great it is.  I do pray that you will soon see that, that higher power is God.  For now though, just don’t do life on your own.

As I have been writing this, the “pink cloud” keeps coming to mind.  During my first year, I heard this cloud mentioned so many times and had no clue what folks were talking about.  Now, I realize that during part of that first year I was riding the pink cloud.

Because of HIM,

SC

Image by principia aesthetica via Flickr

In this game called life I can count the number of times I have been ahead, on just 1 finger.  I don’t think I’d need the whole finger at that.

My defense has been on the field for longer than I can remember.  Battered, bruised, and getting broken, always taking the brunt of the assault, but never catching that break.  That one play.

Where is that one play?  The one that gets the 3rd out, catches the interception or grabs the rebound.  The play that allows the defense a chance to catch a breath of air.  Mend the wounded.  Toss the old play-book and write a new.

It’s taking a beating but still trying to stand strong.  But how long can it continue?  How long before the grumbling starts?  Wait.  What is that sound?  I think grumbling is starting.

It’s that play-book that’s causing the trouble.  Always trying to defend the pass and getting beat by the run.  Defending the run, when it shoulda been a pass.  My defense is just out of sync. Who’s coaching this defense anyway?

Wait.  That would be me.  Not that it’s just me.  I do have one higher that I consult.  Am I not running the plays he’s calling?  Am I consulting and not listening?  That wouldn’t be any good.

The end of the first half is near.  That may be the only time to regroup.  Time for review.  Time to talk to the Counselor and see where I’m failing.  Time to rally the players.

We will be starting the second half on defense.  Time for 3 up and 3 down.  Three and out.  Get the tall man under the goal.

Get me some offense!  Hear my battle cry!

Because of HIM

SC