I have for you some news about which I am pumped – I’m excited to report that I’m officially Un-slumped! It began with a road trip, just me and my bride; she did the driving so I could just ride. We talked and laughed for mile after mile. Our time together really made us both smile. We now smile bigger than lately you’ve seen. Cause we’ve found our answer to Question 15! I’d happily do the whole thing as a rhyme, but I’m behind on my work and I don’t have the time. OK… Stop!!! We drove to Houston on Saturday to visit a dear friend, and then drove back the same day. So Lisa and I had six hours in the car together, and they proved to be six hours of bonding and remaking old connections. Over the months since the diagnosis and surgery, she and I have been reconnecting in ways that have been really magical. We were so very tight at first… we would regularly finish each other’s sentences. Soul mates. We always made each other laugh and smile. But we had lost that years ago, and I really didn’t expect to ever get it back. I can’t tell you how incredible the experience is of seeing all of these stolen treasures unexpectedly returned to us. But still, key elements were missing. Elements that had a fundamental impact on me. Me. That became my focus. I found myself drinking more. Losing hope. In a Slump. I couldn’t concentrate on my work. A man without an anchor, because of one unanswered question. I prayed for guidance, and I prayed for peace of mind. I prayed for Lisa’s continued healing, and for resolution of what I now believe was the very first symptom; the first thing the Evil Monkey stole from us. I found enough peace to write again – the last post. And then a rather vigorous family discussion helped me get a little closer back to being me. The person I used to be. I was looking for my own resurrection. And then this roadtrip that felt like a rolling reunion with my long lost love. And then… with lasting goofy smiles, Lisa and I crossed through the 15th question, after finding the answer on our own. But really, not on our own not in the least – so very many of you have knocked along with us, and He has answered with great love! Thank you!!!
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“And when you’re in a Slump, you’re not in for much fun. Un-slumping yourself is not easily done.” (Dr. Seuss – Oh the Places You’ll Go!) Now there is some literary genius! Basic truth well rhymed. It’s been almost a month since my last post. I sat down a few times to write, and it just wouldn’t come. I felt bad for not writing – there are so many of you who have been complimentary and encouraging, and I’m letting you and myself down when I don’t write. But I guess my soul has been a little dehydrated and weak for the last month or so. An accumulation of things that left me feeling like a hollow shell, a sail with no wind. So the words wouldn’t come. Not in writing, not even in conversation. Even now, it’s a struggle. My struggle. And that in the midst of a set of circumstances that our whole family recognizes as being richly blessed. We had lost Lisa, and she is found. She’s back at work full time, plus a little. She’s getting healthy and active, fitting back into clothes that she outgrew years ago. We had a really sweet Christmas day with Elise, Zac and Jake. There were those poignant moments like when Nat King Cole’s Christmas Song came on, and this orphan felt both the presence and the absence of Mom and Dad. And Bonnie, June and Dixie dogs added new and fun elements to our family dynamic. We all enjoyed a day at home together, but for me personally there was a very odd element to our Christmas. For the first time in my memory, I didn’t go to Christmas mass. Our family tradition is to go to midnight mass. I didn’t bring it up, and nobody else did either. Of all the things I could fail at, my last choice would be to fail in my duty as our family’s spiritual leader. But those words seem a little hollow at the moment. One undercurrent to our Christmas celebration was knowing that our dear friend Fr. Isidore could not freely celebrate Christ’s birth. Because of a bishop’s weak and unjust decision, this good man was separated from his family and friends. Seeing that coming, we had invited him to spend Christmas with us, and maybe to even say a family mass in our home. He wanted to join us but was forced to decline, and so I didn’t much feel like going to church. So there’s that. Mix in another personal ingredient or two, and I can too easily find myself standing in the middle of a room full of friends and family but still totally alone. Self-induced solitude. Looking for the lessons that come with each cross. Waiting for the words to come again. My problem is not with God, or even with the Catholic church. I know that God is good all the time, and that Pope Francis is a man of God. But I do have a real and significant problem with the local diocesan leadership. I don’t know if God’s lesson for me in all of this is to learn to take a loss and look for the good in it, or if I am supposed to fight for an unlikely change in that leadership. But when you have no wind in your sails, it’s hard to fight for squat. Step one: breathe deeply. I guess Step 2 would be to exhale, and then repeat. Then smile, focus on all of our many blessings, and say Happy 2018 Ya’ll!!! Please pray for Lisa’s continued healing, and for each of ours. Peace! Lisa’s appointment with Dr. Tumu was Tuesday morning. Three months and five days after he was inside of her head, he sat patiently as that same brain fired questions at him and demonstrated how well it has recovered. It brought a sentimental tinge at the memory of doctor’s visits with Mom. My lovely Momma must have read somewhere that the thing to do at the doctor’s office is to accentuate how extremely fit and strong and healthy she was. Occasionally drifting into the fiction section. Mom, that is. Lisa was just stating the facts to the doc. She has been busy and productive and organized and, shockingly within this clan, even somewhat punctual. For the most part. She has picked up her violin, and has relearned how to read music. She’s organized the little clusters of chaos that grew during V2. She’s hit Duolingo and is refreshing herself on French – her first love. Taking her vitamins and brainy supplements. Lisa is working it! Brain training 101. Scans of the evil monkey (now deceased) above, and then of V3 aggressively retaking territory! Lisa’s been anxious to get back to work, and Dr. Tumu encouraged her to jump right in. So Wednesday she worked her first full day back at the office, and today will be her third. Back in the saddle again! The name of this thing is “Pray for Lisa”, and prayers are most effective if they have a direction to point in. Begin, of course, with “Thank You God!”. And then, amidst all of the positive news and healing, there are still some areas of concern. Along the suture line across the top of her head is an inflamed spot that looks like a blister, and it has been there for weeks. I think Lisa was expecting the doc to take some action, but instead he took the wait and see approach. So you can pray for that to resolve on its own, and for Lisa to come to peace with her loss of the sense of smell. Her list of questions for the appointment yesterday included a couple about that, but the good doc reiterated that he’s never seen the sense of smell regained after this surgery. When Lisa sent me her list of questions prior to the appointment, there were fourteen. I was a bit crushed that my biggest remaining concern, my first and most pressing question, didn’t make her top fourteen. A disconnect that needs to be bridged. But we’re two structural engineers… building a bridge is something we can manage. Please pray that we build this one well! More on that later, maybe, but for now I am out of words. Peace! This Thanksgiving Day is unique in my experience. We have so very much to be thankful for this year, with Lisa’s amazing recovery and rebirth. But today has a bittersweet side too… There were two holidays that Mom would sometimes double down on. Sometimes her birthday fell on Thanksgiving Day, and occasionally Mother’s Day fell on my birthday. I didn’t mind sharing, and she was cool about it too. So this Thanksgiving, November 23, would have been Mom’s 93rd birthday. I do miss her, but I am thankful that she’s now basking in the light of Jesus with Dad. Happy birthday Mom, and thanks! So yeah, Thanksgiving. How could we not be? Lisa’s diagnosis, surgery and recovery have redefined our lives in a way that I could never have predicted. Every day she’s a little more of the person she used to be. The kids are happier, Lisa is happier, and I am happier. Mostly. All trajectories are very good, but I’m the quality control guy, and we’re looking for optimal results. Lisa told me yesterday that she had a dream that she could smell again. We’ve procured some essential oils with the notion of exposing her to strong smells other than just me. Firing things up. Brain remapping. Maybe. She researched and bought and is now taking an array of brainy supplements. She is on it! Anyway… there are still some hills to climb, but Lisa is a climber! I am really proud of her. And of my kids. So much so. They endured a lot over the course of their childhoods. An increasingly emotionally distant Mom, courtesy of the evil monkey. And an increasingly frustrated and angry Dad, courtesy of an Irish heritage. And through it all they each genuinely and deeply loved us both, and they left no question of it. We are richly blessed. And now – like finding Jesus – suddenly a new light makes you see the whole world differently. We’re understanding our past in the light of this new knowledge of the evil monkey’s role, and a whole new future appears to be unfolding before us. Such an incredibly positive list of things to be thankful for today. Once again feeling like we live a charmed life, and knowing that the credit goes to all of our family and our friends that knocked on our behalf and prayed for Lisa. Thank you! Don’t stop. God is good, all the time! Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours! As opposed to procrastination. Two big old five syllable words, but procrastination is the one that comes naturally. For those of us blessed with that gift. But prognostication seems a bit more challenging for me. Even predicting my own actions – like when I might write the next post – seems beyond my grasp. And I’m left contemplating arguments like the meaning of “a few”. I say I’ll post every few days, and now it’s been nine. I’ve always believed that nine is several, not a few, and I just can’t abandon that belief now. Better to abandon trying to predict me. Discipline deficiency syndrome? But in my own defense, much of this delay is directly attributable to my slowly coming to grips with an impending death. Not of any person, but of my laptop. If it were a person, it would be the one with whom I have spent the most time over the last seven years. By far. All of those hours designing structures and systems and 3D models that carry me inside of my work. Writing and planning and creating and editing… all on this now decrepit old Dell laptop. Respected clients have started to make fun of me for it. She can still push out a complex 3D model in AutoCad as my most trusted and powerful tool, but she now takes a really long time to boot up. Like fifteen minutes. And sometimes she just stops dead in her tracks, like she forgot what she was doing. I have to hard power her down and try again. Sometimes several times. And recently, she lost a sense altogether. No sound. No way. The IT guys gave it several valiant attempts, but she seems incapable of recognizing her own sound card or reloading the drivers. It’s really sad. I think she’s trying to say that she’s done; that I can no longer procrastinate. Or not for much longer, anyway. She’s been so sick over the last few weeks, it’s making it easier for me now to accept the inevitable truth. To let her go, and move on. To get a fresh new partner, one that DOES have an HDMI port, and then start down that path of loading all of the software… learning how to work with her. Or will the next one be a dude? The future is not mine to tell. Right… so the blog is generally supposed to have something to do with Lisa. All reports are positive. She continues to make great progress. Full of energy, engaging, she even drives differently. V2 was like riding with your grandma… easy as we go, no strategy, and soo slow. Lisa V3, however, is an aggressive but good driver, like V1 was. She’s rocking on down the road, changing lanes, passing… keeping her passengers attentive to the road; knuckles a little white. Fun stuff! Jake has remarked about it – another facet of his Mom that he is seeing for the first time. That said, there are still some gaps. They are fewer and farther between, but there are those moments when Lisa says or does something that is totally disconnected – like you can almost hear the sparking sound of a mental short circuit. But now understood. A shared laugh, a correction, and continued healing. Lisa’s three month post-op appointment with the neurosurgeon is December 5, and she’s anxious to see her new MRI. Me too. Please do continue to pray for Lisa, for her recovery to be complete. And if you don’t mind, when you’re done with that throw in one for me – key word: discipline. It’s always best to begin with the apologies. Or maybe that’s just for those of us who tend to drop the ball and have apologies to make. I’m really sorry it’s been so long since my last post. I will endeavor to do better. Rest assured that I intend to keep writing for the foreseeable future. The story is still interesting, Lisa still needs your prayers, and writing these things down seems to make a difference. It really pleases me to know that reading what I’ve written has meant enough to some of you that you’ve protested my dropping the ball. Thank you for hanging in there… assuming anyone still checks this site! I have to share with you a recent horoscope for Lisa; she’s a Cancer. Wow... I don’t think I can really add anything to that. But is the hair standing up on the back of your neck too? Over the last few weeks I’ve had Jake comment to me that he “just doesn’t recognize Mom”… in that case because she knew and advised him about motor oil. V2 wouldn’t have known that or connected about it. Friends have remarked at the astounding change in Lisa. Elise has commented at separate times but with equal surprise – first to me at an art exhibit she helped build that I was smiling, and then to Lisa and I at a separate gathering that we seemed really happy. Smiles and happiness were in desperately short supply at the end of V2… during the apex of the evil monkey’s reign. Speaking of evil monkeys… we’ve just passed through Halloween once again. Lisa and Jake and I made it out to the annual Halloween River Campout with our extended family of friends known as Camp Bayou Love – the group we met at Old Settler’s Music Festival, now a 20 year annual Powell family tradition. Unfortunately Elise and Zac had to work and missed the Halloween party. In recognition of Lisa’s recently cracked coconut, the Powell three in attendance were given the little river cabin and beds to sleep in, while all of our friends caught our first real taste of winter in their tents and trailers. God bless them, one and all! For years we were invited to the Halloween River Campout, but each year we would end up bailing at the last minute for lack of decent costumes. These people take their dressing up seriously. But this year, Lisa V3 took the bull by the horns. She got a little creative input from me and Jake before doing all of the procurement to make it happen. Then I get to do a small painting, and we have costumes for three! I’ll make you guess the theme… We had a really great time. Lisa’s recovery really is remarkable, but there is still healing and recovery that we are praying for. Important stuff. So please don’t stop! Please pray for Lisa. I know me too well to make any promises, but I will really try going forward to write a post every few days. Thank you for prodding me, and thank you for checking in after all of this time! If I’m going to take the time to write, it’s really nice to believe that there’s someone who will read it – and be glad that they did. Peace! Not troubling because of Lisa – she is the good news story. But I will claim a troubled soul as the reason for such a long lag between posts. Hurricanes, floods, earthquakes, mass shootings, wildfires… idiot politicians, and deepening divisions in our society. Makes you want to go on a walkabout and not come back. And much closer to home, our dear friend and the pastor of our church is subjected to an overwhelming injustice. Out of a parish of 3,500 families and maybe 10,000 people, two women complained to the bishop that the way he hugs people after mass made them uncomfortable. The bishop responded by removing him as pastor, making him leave the parish without even saying goodbye, and issuing a letter that wrongly implied some sort of sexual misconduct. I’ve never gone to battle with a bishop before – but there’s a first time for everything. It’s not the kind of thing I have the ability to just accept without a fight. Not sure I’d recommend you putting money on me winning though. I’m just a David, and a bishop can be a bit of a Goliath. Oh… wait! So all of that has been pretty upsetting and distracting, along with trying to catch up on work that went undone during the monkey war. But the low points are more than counterbalanced by the miracles taking place in Lisa. Every day she is more of her old self. I jokingly told her a few weeks ago that she was Lisa V3… I married V1, V2 was the monkey laden zombie (no offense intended), and V3 is the new and classic version of V1 – like a fine wine with a whole new view of the world. Lisa gravitated to that thought and now occasionally refers to herself as V3. Another dear friend commented that her progress is like a resurrection, and he was dead on. It is an amazing thing to see. I can only imagine what it must be like from in her shoes. We will do our best to capture and share that in future posts. Lisa saw the neuro-ophthalmologist yesterday, and she was proclaimed perfectly normal. As related to her double vision, anyway. So she’s now just seeing one of me, and I’m sure that’s more than enough. There are still some symptoms that continue to linger, but Dr. Tumu told us up front that it generally takes about 3 months after a surgery like this for things to reach equilibrium. That’s why the follow-up MRI is scheduled for 3 months post surgery. So we remain hopeful that she will recover everything but her sense of smell, and it’s clear from listening to her talk that Lisa retains some optimism that even that might heal. I do try to expose her to strong smells on a regular basis, in the hope of maybe triggering something. After the last post warning of details to come, you probably thought that I just got too scared, and that paralysis was preventing the next post. Not so… we will still share details of the reign of the monkey as promised. But not today. I’m already over my word limit! Please do keep praying for Lisa’s continued healing, and in thanks for the miracles that have already happened. Peace be with you, and with us too! No, you’re not going to college for free. We said at the outset that we would take you along for the ride. The full ride. So we’ve come to one of those points in the story where some advance warning is required. It’s not the story of what’s happening today, but looking back at where we’ve been. Upcoming posts will be about the symptoms of the tumor, about the ripple effects of those symptoms, and about the unexpected reversal of those symptoms. We are experiencing and witnessing miracles. But first, let me tell you about how Lisa is doing now. Really, really great! She is still seeing improvement each day, and she’s beginning to talk about new realizations she is having about her experience - both now and during the reign of the evil monkey. We will share those with you in the upcoming posts. Each day reveals more of the real Lisa, as she rediscovers little facets of herself that have been squeezed out for years. It almost feels to me like the symptoms are resolving in the reverse order in which they occurred. Sort of a first shall be last and the last first kind of thing. Or like when you’re excavating earth to build a building… the soils that were under the highest compression will take the longest to rebound. Lisa objects to the dirt brain analogy, but she decided to let it stay in anyway. She is happy and talkative and funny and fun. She’s making it sweetly painful to realize how very much I’ve missed her. The Lisa that I thought was lost and gone forever. She’s back! Years ago I visited a conventional precast construction project being built by our LadderBlock Dubai partner. I saw a sign that made me laugh, and it came to mind as a reasonable visual for this post: So there will be stuff in the upcoming posts that you may prefer to remain ignorant to. That might be my preference if I had a choice, but at the same time it really is an intriguing story. Certainly not one we could have predicted or even imagined. Yet here we are. Lisa and I have talked about just how much detail to include, and will continue to do so as each post is written. Part of the reason we felt led to start the blog is not just to keep our family and friends updated regarding Lisa’s health, but also to share our story in the hope that it may reach others who are going through the same things we have – but may currently have no idea why it is happening. Like us just four months ago, and for decades prior to that. So it takes us stepping out onto the thin ice and sharing some very personal details… outside of our collective comfort zones, yours included. If you’d rather not know, just don’t read upcoming posts that are preceded by a “Warning!”. I’m kind of scared to write it down, so please don’t feel bad if you’re scared to read it. Just skip on! It has to be taken as a good sign when the reinforcements pull out. Unless they are in full retreat. But if things are looking up, and the reinforcements roll back, it compounds your sense of encouragement. I think about the crowd with us in the waiting room during surgery… big sister from Maine, big brother from west Texas, friends from north and south, Lisa’s Mom and Dad. And when the good news came about the surgery’s success, the first set of reinforcements disbursed and prayed thanks on their separate ways home. More reinforcements came and went as food and flowers and wine and love and prayers were delivered to Lisa and to our family. And yesterday, Lisa’s parents boarded their flight back to Florida after having worked hard to help us keep the ship afloat through a fairly stormy few weeks. Having been brought to tears by Lisa’s amazing progress, they were able to fly away with peace of mind. Their little girl is not just OK, she’s better than before. Now we’re down to just us, and we’re reveling in the progress each new day brings. Early yesterday morning Lisa sat with me on the front porch having a cup of coffee. That had been my solo domain, but I was very glad to unexpectedly share it. Lisa sat there and told me it’s just that, once the sun comes up, she has a hard time staying asleep. Inconceivable!!! A little later in the morning, she told me about the circumstances of her Uncle Jimmy. The sweetest soul you could want to know. And like a lot of sweet souls, he gets taken advantage of and treated poorly by people who don’t deserve to have him in their lives. But he’s too good to extract himself… there are other innocents involved that he feels responsible to protect. So Lisa told me about his latest trials, and how unfair his situation is, and she started to cry. After hugging and comforting her through it, I walked away with a wet shoulder. It made me smile, and not because I am a bad person. Later in the day yesterday, Lisa said to me that it had been the first time she had cried in over a year. And it’s been a pretty rough year. She’s talking about her feelings, and about her new awareness of how significant her symptoms really were. More on that in later posts. Understand that wet shoulders were a common thing early in our relationship. Lisa would cry when Frosty melted in the greenhouse - every year. And now, in the absence of the evil monkey, she’s cried again for the first time in over a year. And it wasn’t my fault! This whole experience is still a bit surreal for all of us. Who woulda thought? The appointment with the neuro-ophthalmologist this morning went very well. Except that my floppy brain lobe theory was shot down in flames. The reason for Lisa’s double vision is because the nerve that controls the top muscle in one eye ran through the war zone and is likely bruised or inflamed. Lisa left the appointment confident that her double vision will resolve itself over time, and that no intervention will be required. Follow up appointment in 3 weeks. Thank you again for all of your prayers! And thank You God for listening! Lisa has been up early every day since the last post. Talking my ear off, trying to organize piles of newly found unattended mail, walking down to the office to work for a couple of hours on things that are only on her office computer, doing a workout in which she tried to try to hit all of her muscle groups, going for walks in the neighborhood with her parents. These once seemed like small things, but not today. Today they kind of make your vision cloudy for a second or two. For me, it’s reminiscent of watching the stadium lights come on… not all at once because it would blow a circuit, but one bright light firing up at a time. Lisa is doing great! She is brighter every day. We are still waiting for some key lights to switch on; but patience, my son! One day at a time! Not sure why, but lately I’ve had a bit of a short fuse. Only for the last several years though. But now all of a sudden when I get all frustrated and offended and grumpy, Lisa notices it. And it matters to her. So I guess you could say my stadium lights are starting to turn on too. Lisa’s appointment with the neuro-ophthalmologist is now scheduled for next Tuesday morning. She has corrected herself in having said that her vision was Salvador Dali-esque. She says it is actually cubist. Big difference! The Dali-esque thing would just be weird. The volunteer art teacher was quick to excuse her own lapse, citing that same old “squished brain expansion mode” excuse that everybody uses. So all in all she’s doing really great. The wonky vision thing will keep her from driving until it rectifies. If you want to target your prayers please ask for that to resolve quickly on its own. That Lisa will require no more surgeries or invasions or drugs to get her normal vision back. And that she will stay on her current trajectory toward the person she truly is. Thank you God! |
AuthorWritten by David, with review and approval by Lisa before posting Archives
January 2018
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