Still Under Attack

Yes, I’m still under the random attacks (link to: Still), and no… I’m not really any better. Since January of 2010, my medical doctor has had so many tests performed on me that I’m beginning to feel like a mad scientist’s experiment gone awry. I’ve had enough blood drawn to satisfy the Twilight denizens, and the only abnormal thing they can point to is that my HDL is really low. So I now dutifully take enormous amounts of Niacin (vitamin B-3) in what seems to be an experimental attempt (“studies have shown promise”) to get my good cholesterol into the normal range. The marvelous side effect of taking Niacin in dosages exceeding 500 mg is something called Flushing; your skin alternately feels burning hot, or crawling with insects. Fun times!

“Will this fix my problem?” I ask.

“Oh, no… but we should fix your HDL,” replies the doctor “and let’s put you on a Pravastatin to make sure we control your bad cholesterol at the same time, because you are just a few points too high.”

Along the way, I’ve seen heart doctors and neurologists. They, in turn, have sent me for x-rays of my neck, echocardiograms of my heart, trans-esophageal echocardiograms for a better view of my heart (hospital procedure… sonar device crammed down your throat; NOT FUN), electrocardiograms of my brain (yes, I DO have one), magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) of my brain and spine, and a host of other poking and prodding of various other areas of my body.

All of the medical professionals deal with me in a similar concerned and caring manner, but like the neurologist (who is the only one to openly admit it)… they are shooting in the dark at my symptoms… since they have, as yet, to diagnose the problem.

“I’m starting you on 500 mg of Depakote (divalproex sodium) to see if that helps you.”

“Will that fix my problem?”

“It’s an anti-epilepsy drug; very effective.” she said.

“Do I have epilepsy?” I demanded.

“No, but your symptoms might respond to this type of treatment.”

I was trying to find something positive in this situation, so after viewing the MRI of my brain, I asked:

“See any tumors, cancer, or swelling of my brain?”

“Nope, it all looks fine. You have a normal brain.”

“Ha!” I replied, “Now my wife will have to stop calling me ‘Pea Brain’.”

I don’t think doctors appreciate humor much. After that crack, she took a second look at my scans, pronounced that I had a sinus infection that showed up on the MRI, and sent me back to my regular MD. He also looked at the MRI scans, agreed that I have a terrible sinus infection, and began to prescribe an antibiotic that would take care of the infection:

“We’ll need to knock down that infection with a strong antibiotic.”

“Is the sinus infection causing my problems… my attacks?”

“Oh, no,” chuckled the doctor, “but we should fix this before it gets any worse.”

“But my head feels fine. I breathe fine. I don’t even have a sniffle.”

“Some sinus infections are like that,” he said cheerily, “it’s lucky we had the MRI so we could see it. Now let’s see… are you allergic to anything.”

“Yes, I’m allergic to bullets”

“What?!?” he exclaimed, “How can you be allergic to bullets?”

“Every time I’m shot,” I snickered, “I have a really bad reaction!”

Showing not the least bit of appreciation of my humor, and thus validating my premise, he wrote me a prescription for AMOX TR-K CLV 875, and then seemed almost gleeful when he explained that this antibiotic kills all the bacteria in the gut, so I should be sure to take a daily probiotic to keep replacing the little critters. As an aside, he mentioned that I “might” experience some bloating, gas, or severe diarrhea. That turned out to be an understatement!

I could not take the probiotic fast enough. To be honest, it didn’t seem to do anything at all to relieve what was fast becoming a disaster of epic proportions. For days, I seemed to be tied to the toilet seat. If you’ve had a bad case of stomach flu, you have a slight inkling of what I went through. After a while, I just wanted to die!

“Surely, this is how the infirm, the diseased, and the aged might feel.” That was the thought that suddenly shot into my mind as my intestines kept trying to turn themselves inside out. At that same instant, I realized that all my faith had been on medicine, other medicines, and my own strength. I wish I could report that as soon as I turned my heart back toward Jesus that I was instantly made well; I wasn’t. But it was as if I could feel Jesus holding my hand, easing my pain, and reminding me that it would soon pass. Then a miracle occurred: my youngest daughter came by and forced me to take some Imodium tablets. Thirty minutes later, I was greatly relieved (no pun intended).

I was a victim of the cure being worse than the disease! I felt deathly ill for 5 whole days. When you can’t control your bowels, you are angry, irritable, embarrassed, and in pain (for more than one reason). Your only thoughts to God, when you are alone and in pain, are not all that productive… they are probably a lot like mine were. And physical pain is just the tip of the iceberg. The pain of the death of a loved one can be even greater! I bet you know somebody who is in pain right now.

I challenge you to remind them of the Good News of Jesus Christ. I challenge you to sit with them, hold their hand, and pray with them. I challenge you to be an earthly reminder that Jesus wants to walk beside them… to erase their sins, free them from bondage, and to ease their pain.

Your brother in Christ,

Dave