Dear God, Thanks

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Bethany Parrish, 1997

Dear God,

You do so much for me every day and I am full of gratitude. I have so many thankful thoughts sifting through my mind that I decided to write you a letter of praise.

Thank you for the gift of life, for telling me to go to the ER, and for giving me the strength to recover. Thank you for giving me the faith and fortitude to make it through three surgeries in one year. Thank you for the joy I have in you, despite my circumstances.

Thank you for the dear friends and family who’ve brought meals, gifts, cleaned, and visited. Thank you for all those who prayed, sent cards, donated money and placed me on prayer chains. I am grateful and humbled by their generosity.

Thank you for the teenager who sent $20 of her babysitting money to my fundraiser saying, “They need it more than I do.” Bless the struggling families who gave in spite of their lack. I am rendered speechless in the face of such generosity.

I’m so grateful for the letters you sent with money and gift cards. I felt your love in each envelope. Remember the day I prayed you’d send me some money and hours later one of your cards arrived?  Thank you for the generous souls who hear your voice and obey. Give them favor and blessings in miraculous ways.

Thank you for the wonderful friends who helped us move, some we didn’t even know.  Please bless them with good health and friends who stick by in times of crisis. Thank you for friends and family who sent notes of support, and for those who called right when I needed to hear an encouraging voice.

Thank you for my online community, for their encouragement, funny antics, for sharing and listening to my struggles and joys.

Thank you for my mom, sister and husband who took turns spending the night with me in the hospital, sacrificing their sleep so I could rest easier. Thank you for my precious family, who prayed with me before surgery, showered me with love during my recovery and for the strong bond we share. Thank you for an amazing husband who stood by my side without complaining and encouraged me when I needed it most. Thank you for our incredible children, and their wonderful spouses, who make me proud to be their mom. Thank you for our beautiful grandbaby, who showers us with joy and helps us to look at life in new, exciting ways.

Thank you for sending skilled surgeons to operate on me, for their compassion and expertise. Thank you for the infectious disease doctor who kept me from having allergic reactions to meds and reacted quickly when needed. Thank you for the amazing nurses who went beyond their call of duty to make me comfortable; and for the fabulous nurses in the infusion center who made an unpleasant experience bearable.

Thank you for loving me in spite of my impatience, as my health improves and I try to do more than I should; for lifting my head and my spirits and reminding me of all you’ve done. Thank you for your blessing and protection during my health crisis, and for a life that has meaning, simply because you’re a part of it.

Your grateful daughter,

Jan

Life Saving Surgery part 2

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Still fighting for life
During this life-threatening situation, I received true clarity of thought. In that moment, my priorities fell into place and I focused on what really mattered. My worries about our bills, my job or the house became less significant. My only concern was for my family.

I must have dozed off because the next time I opened my eyes, most of my family was in the room. Supported by their love, I was incredibly comforted. I grabbed hold of these feelings and carried them with me into surgery. 

I knew in my heart, I was going to be fine and I wanted to reassure them. I didn’t believe God would send me to the hospital to die. After all, I could have died at home for free. But the pain and drugs kept me from voicing my thoughts.  

My pain had greatly diminished the next time I awoke. I was so relieved; I gave little thought to all the tubes and devices that were keeping me comfortable. I felt great peace from the prayers of believers all over the world.

My surgeon removed over a foot of dead intestine and thoroughly rinsed the peritoneal cavity. He also documented the diseased bowel so we could see just how bad it was. I couldn’t believe what was inside me. It looked like burnt brats (Incidentally, brats are a food I no longer eat.). No wonder I was in so much pain.

Thirty years ago, when I had my appendectomy, the surgeon remarked that I had three extra feet of colon. God knew that I would need it now. Because of His infinite wisdom, I didn’t need a colostomy bag.

Though the surgery was over, my life still hung in the balance as I battled a serious blood infection

Stay tuned for part three! Read part one HERE.

Life Saving Surgery part 1

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My IV pole. It was so heavy, I  had to have help pushing it.
September 4, 2010, is a date we’ll always remember as the day our lives were turned completely upside down in just a matter of minutes. Our evening began with a delicious dinner at our good friends, Mark and Denise’s. None of us had a clue what was about to transpire. After dinner, I had an uncomfortable feeling in my tummy. I was fine until then, so I dismissed it and took some Advil. But within minutes, I knew we had to leave. We were all shocked at how suddenly it hit.
During the five-minute ride home, I began to get sick to my stomach. I couldn’t keep anything down. In the hours I lay wreathed in pain, I began to rule things out in my mind. Gallbladder – gone. Appendix – gone. Swine Flu – had it last summer. Salmonella? I should have stopped eating eggs.
Around one in the morning, I said to myself, “This is what it must feel like to die.” It was more pain than I’d ever experienced, in spite of several pregnancies and numerous surgeries. At that moment, I distinctly heard God speak into my spirit, “You WILL die if you don’t go to the ER.” If we had medical coverage, I would have already been to the ER.  I was reluctant to go since we were temporarily without insurance. 
Concerned about the cost, I asked God what hospital to go to. He told me Skyridge.  I considered calling the ambulance, but I knew Greg would get me there faster. I didn’t even change out of my nightgown. When God said go, I grabbed my robe and purse. Greg piggybacked me down the stairs because I was too weak to walk. 
We made it there in record time. Greg parked in front of the emergency entrance until I was settled in a room. I remember sitting in the wheelchair doubled over and thinking I was rude for not looking at the triage nurses while they asked me questions.
“What is your level of pain on a scale of 1-10?”
“Twelve.”  I answered, wondering how I was even able to be coherent. 
The Dilaudid just barely took the edge off. After many hours in the ER, an x-ray showed nothing, but a CAT scan revealed an intestinal blockage. Scar tissue was wrapped around my upper intestine, strangling it. Who knew?
It’s interesting the words that bring you comfort at a time like this. I remember them clearly, “In two hours we are going to perform live saving surgery…” even the five-inch incision seemed irrelevant. Thank you Jesus! Relief was on the way.