Just when you think things can't get worse...

"If you are going through hell, keep going." - Winston Churchill

Photo by Eileen Pan on Unsplash

There was a follow-up appointment with Dr. Sharma.

“I am writing a referral for you to see a gastroenterologist,” she told me. “Dr. Harris and I think you need to have a liver biopsy. It’s a simple procedure. They will go in through your esophagus for the biopsy.  They will insert a tiny camera and they can look for scar tissue at the same time.”

Dr. Lector was a well-known gastroenterologist in Kalispell and well respected. He explained the procedure, but first wanted me to take a stress test. Because I was still healing from the car accident, I couldn’t keep up on the treadmill. I kept falling off, so they had to use a drug to induce my heart rate to go higher.  It was very uncomfortable and I thought my chest would burst. My face turned red and I felt hot. I was beginning to be really tired of being poked, prodded, tested…quickly getting tired of so many medical procedures and doctors.

The biopsy wasn’t as bad as I feared. I was given a drug to make me drowsy and I didn’t really feel the camera and whatever else then ran down my throat. I could feel it a little, but it didn’t hurt. I tried to watch the computer screen to see what the camera was showing, but it was turned away from me. Probably a good thing.

Later Dr. Lector said he wanted to do a blood gas test, so I was poked yet another time and they took more vials of blood.

By this time I was not expecting any more bad news. But the follow-up appointment with Dr. Lector proved to be another world rattler.

“The good news is that there is no scar tissue on your liver.  But it’s what we call a fatty liver, so you need to cut sugar out of your diet, saturated fats, etc. My assistant will give you a list of foods to avoid,” Dr. Lector said.

“The results of the blood gas test are not good,” he continued. “The oxygen levels in your blood are low and there is a build-up of ammonia in your blood. This is serious. It can cause fatigue, hand tremors, mood swings and death. The good news is here is one pharmaceutical company that makes a drug to help combat this. The drug costs about $500 a month for the prescription, and many insurance companies will not pay for it.  If you take it, you can live up to five more years. If you don’t, well…”

I had long-term disability from my former paralegal position, but it was 50% of my former salary and it covered the basics, but $500 a month was a huge stretch.  If insurance wouldn’t pay…

After checking with the insurance company, I found the drug was experimental and they would not pay for it. 

Battling fatigue was a daily occurrence and it seemed to be getting worse.  Some days it was difficult to walk across the room. I started thinking about making arrangements for the dogs. I made lists of what I wanted each of my kids to have after I was “gone”. I was so exhausted that getting up and getting dressed was an ordeal. I became frustrated at not being able to do ordinary daily things. After getting dressed, I spent a lot of time on the couch. I slept a lot. I was depressed. I felt sorry for myself…a lot. I made out a will.

One day I made the choice to stop worrying about the things I couldn’t do. I began to concentrate on the things I could do. If I got up in the morning and got dressed, it was a win. If I was able to cook something for myself, it was a win. I refused to dwell on the “can’ts”.

Then came a turning point. I was laying on the sofa, dozing. I dreamed I was healthy. I was running along the beach, I could feel wet sand under my feet, the smell of salty air and I could hear the shoosh of the waves as they washed onto the shore and receded. I opened my eyes and sat up.

“Who the hell does he think he is, telling me I only have five years to live!” I shouted.  “No, I will not accept that. No one knows that, only God. And Dr. Lector is not God.”

That afternoon I dragged myself to my car and drove the five miles to Columbia Falls to see an herbalist. I explained my health issues and she made a list of things to do. She suggested I start by taking colostrum and another product called “liquid oxygen.” After a couple of weeks I began to feel better. Every two weeks I would see the herbalist and she would add a couple more things to take. My energy improved. I started eating raw vegetables and fruit. I cut out sugar. I read labels. It’s amazing the junk that is put into processed food.

“If it comes in a package, don’t eat it,” said the herbalist. “Cut out all processed food. Eat vegetables, fruit, fish and chicken. No red meat for awhile. Cut out dairy.”

I did exactly what she suggested and I began to get better. Little by little my strength improved. My energy started to return. I started to take short walks with the dogs. The plan was working and I knew that I would get well. I stopped thinking about the five year death sentence.

I found a book at the library: “Your Body Believes Everything You Say,” by Barbara Hoberman Levine. The author talked about her struggle with an inoperable brain tumor. The book talked about “seedthoughts” and “core beliefs” that link our body and mind. Saying things like “that breaks my heart” and “it’s a pain in the butt” can ultimately lead to related health issues. This may sound like nonsense, but it brought back a memory of an event in my past that lent credibility to the idea.

My former employer could not hold my job open for the two years that it took me to be able to walk, dress myself, and drive a car again. I still wasn’t able to sit or stand for long periods. I got a call one day from my former boss who told me she had saved the personal items I had left in my office. I was still weak, but was driving short distances. We set a time for me to pick my things up. During the time I had worked there, I often made a point to let my boss know every detail about where I saved things on my computer. I kept her updated on passwords and little details that weren’t necessary to talk about at our Monday morning meetings. She would say that it wasn’t necessary, but I would say, “You never know. I could get hit by a bus.”

I drove to my former office and picked up my belongings. Everyone told me how sorry they were about the accident and they wished me well. Two of my friends walked out of the building with me. They stood watching as I walked toward my car that was parked at the curb in front of the building. It was a one-way street and I was parked with the passenger side at the curb. I stepped off the curb and walked behind my car in order to get to the driver’s door on the left. Just as I was about to step into the street, my friend called out, “McKenzie! McKenzie!” As I turned to see what she wanted, a city bus whizzed by very close to my car. If I hadn’t stopped, if my friend had not called out, the bus would have hit me because I was between cars and the driver couldn’t see me.

Self talk becomes habit and it was not so easy to catch myself before thinking things like, “that’s driving me crazy” or “I’m so tired of this.” I was amazed at how many misdirections I was giving my body. I began to change my self-talk to, “I am healing” and “I feel great today”. Most of all, I learned to be thankful. Every morning I got up, I said a prayer of thanks for a beautiful new day. I began to appreciate the little things. And I realized one can learn a lot from animals and by watching nature. How easy it is to become so wrapped up in our troubles that we fail to see the little miracles that happen daily. I was healing.