Whew! This has been a hard week. These last few days have been especially hard. Breathing. Walking. Talking. Keeping my emotions in check. Just hard.

A good, long cry in Scott’s arms helped reset things, and the hard work my kids poured into making sure our celebration for September birthdays happened reminded me that I’m not alone. 

There’s not a lot to report. My team in Cleveland continues to play around with medications and dosages via virtual appointments. I had a week of small but very noticeable improvement, and it was so wonderful. Even just slight improvement made such a difference! Unfortunately, my kidneys didn’t seem to handle the medication changes well, so we had to back off. And I have slowly worsened again each day since.

There are a couple of other things being checked out now, too. My PET scan, while ruling out cardiac sarcoidosis, also showed some nodules on my lungs, so the pulmonologist in Cleveland wants to just confirm that these aren’t anything to worry about. They are trying to arrange more testing for this while I’m in Cleveland next week seeing the electrophysiologist, and I will see the pulmonologist there to discuss those test results when I return to Cleveland again in November.

Also, I was finally able to see the neurologist here in Cincinnati to discuss the apparent TIA’s was having (these seem to have resolved over the last few weeks). I really liked this doctor a lot. I was surprised to learn that I haven’t actually had a brain MRI done, after all, but a brain MRA. This showed that the blood flow to the brain was good, but didn’t actually, as I had been told, confirm that I have not had any strokes or seizure activity. I will be having a brain MRI next week after we return from Cleveland. We don’t expect to find any signs of strokes, but it will be good to know that for sure.

The signs of the coming fall fill my heart with joy, and I’m thankful for the beauty all around me. I’m more aware than ever before of the small daily changes in the colors of growing things, in the sounds of the leaves when the wind blows, and the differences in the way the breeze feels against my face as the seasons slowly shift. Being forced to sit and to move very slowly has its blessings. And God is so gently carrying me through this season in which I feel very much like a “fragile flower as it trembles on the lip of the Alpine glacier.” This quote from John MacDuff stroked my heart tenderly:

“Our Omnipotent God keeps watch over the lichen on the rock, and the lily on the mountain side. He tempers His wind to the fragile flower as it trembles on the lip of the Alpine glacier. There is surely nothing more sublime than this microscopic love of our Great Father.”
~ John MacDuff

What peace, what beauty, what comfort is found in that focused, microscopic love of my Great Father. I feel so blessed.