Scary Doctor Report

I have survived my fourth throat scope/stroboscopy in as many months. Yea and hooray!


Happily, my relaxing medicine kicked in and thoroughly did its job; in fact, by the time we left the hospital I was so extremely and exceedingly mellow that I fell asleep almost as soon as we left the parking lot.


I'm still feeling a bit spacey; thankfully though, my hubby and daughter made dinner for me. When I woke up from my second nap after getting home, everything was on the table and ready to go! How nice is that?


Steve and I were both so impressed with the people at Chapel Hill-UNC Medical Center. We were there two hours and only about 10 minutes of that was spent waiting. Usually, I'm at appointments for two hours and only 10 minutes of that time is spent being seen by someone. What a nice reversal.


I started out by spending almost an hour with a speech pathologist who had me do all sorts of unusual things with my voice; she also recorded me and listened to me and asked me all sorts of questions.


And then it was time to be ushered into the Scary Doctor's examing room. Before he came in, however, another doctor made an appearance and asked a few more questions and did a head/neck exam. She earned by undying approval and admiration when she told Steve and me about all the times she has allowed med students to do a throat scope on her to practice. She said, "Yeah, I've had a lot of students who have no idea what they're doing stick this thing up my nose. Lots of fun!" I was in awe that anyone would be brave enough for that and immediately wanted to give her some sort of award.


And then at long last, the Scary Doctor showed up. I liked him as soon as I saw him; he was friendly, personable, cheery and extremely knowledgeable. He asked a few more questions, had someone spray the lovely stuff up my nose and within three minutes (they must have the super-fast numbing spray), he had the long camera/strobe light tube efficiently inserted into my nostril and down my throat.


I was aware of feeling very calm and non-panicky which certainly helped the proceedings quite a bit. And it's a good thing I was feeling calm because this particular doctor was not content to let me just sit there in silence like my local doctor was. For three or four minutes, I had to say words, hum, do la-la-la's and lots of other fun vocal exercises. I don't know if you've ever tried to sing with a camera stuffed up your nose but it is really quite the adventure.


Finally we got to the to the wonderful point in the day where he pulled the big long thingie out and said, "That's it!" I always have this overwhelming urge to hug my doctors when they do that because it is such an incredibly fantastic feeling.

And the results?

Even though he is an outstanding surgeon, he is one of those doctors who looks at surgery as a very last resort. He said the test definitely showed some problems though, mainly that my vocal chords are not closing completely, for reasons he doesn't understand. Also, the vocal cords on either side are not moving in a symetrical fashion. He did see the lesion on the vocal cord that the other ENT had seen but he said that fortunately it was not in a place that would cause problems. However, he said if it ever started to bleed (which is certainly a possibility) then he would need to be notified immediately and would probably do surgery at that point.

But for now he said that the vocal fatigue, hoarseness and loss of the notes from the top of my range are being caused by the two problems mentioned above. The solution? Extensive vocal therapy. He is fairly confident that undergoing the therapy (by a woman on his staff who has a doctorate in vocal performance) will go a long way toward helping to improve my voice.

Of course, he understands that we're dealing with the added complexity of COPD and since singing and speaking require plenty of air, having COPD will probably keep me from making a full recovery.

He also said that many times the medication taken for COPD does damage to vocal cords that cannot be reversed. However, he said that if the medication is making a difference in my lung function than I should continue with it because there's no sense in having good vocal cords if I don't have any air to push through them.

All in all, it's kind of a convoluted, complex situation but the good news is that surgery is not necessary at the moment and he does think that I can get some help with therapy.

For now, I'm just going to take my tired brain and weary body to bed and not think about all of this anymore until tomorrow. I don't know why these visits are so stressful for me but when I get home, I feel a lot like a wet noodle. And this wet noodle is off to bed.

Good night, all! Thanks so much for your prayers and support.

In the Hallway

Yesterday I went to the gym for the first time in a couple of weeks. I'd been getting out of the habit of going as frequently as I should, but when I saw the scale numbers start to creep back up I figured it was time to get a grip and get going! (No gym+one ton of malted milk balls=creeping scales. THAT kind of math equation, I understand.)

I've discovered that gym-going is not just good for my physical self, it's also good for my emotional self. As you can probably imagine, these past months have not been easy ones for Steve and me and it's pretty easy to get depressed over this particular chapter of life. It's amazing though, how some time on the treadmill working up a sweat can help to scatter the blues and give my mind a fresh grip on life.

So anyway, I had just finished my tiring but rejuventating workout yesterday when I ran into an old friend. He asked how we were doing (which is a hard question to answer truthfully without giving too many dire details) and then he said something that really caught my attention.

He said, "They always say that when God closes one door, He opens another. But it's the time spent in the hallway inbetween that's really tough."

Those words really hit me as a perfect way to describe where we are--we are "in the hallway." And hallways are generally not places where a lot of living goes on; they're just empty, blank spaces whose purpose is to take you from one place to another.

I know there may be some other hallway dwellers who are reading these words and I just want to tell you that I understand where you are! The good news is that hallways aren't forever. Eventually that other door opens and the hallway is left behind. In the meantime, we know that since God is everywhere, He inhabits hallways, too. We're not alone here in this empty space and where God is, there is the assurance that everything is going to be okay.

After I got home from the gym (and my hallway lesson), I fixed dinner for the family and then Steve and I took a walk. There are few places more beautiful than North Carolina in the springtime and it was a perfectly clear, calm evening with things blooming everywhere. It's hard to stay depressed when life is just bustin' out all over!

By this time, it was about 7 pm and after forty-five minutes at the gym and thirty minutes walking, my body was telling me it had had quite enough, thank you. However, as we rounded the corner to our house, we noticed that Nathan was outside shooting baskets. I looked at Steve and said, "Let's go over and play with him for a few minutes."

You should have seen Nathan grin when his (almost) over-the-hill parents arrived on the scene saying we wanted to play. I knew I would last all of about five minutes (due to my not-so-great lungs) but I gave it everything I had and even managed to make four lay-ups in a row! (Where are the ESPN cameras when you need them?)

Nathan just kept on grinning and playing and running huge "Nathan circles" around Steve and me while we tried desperately to pretend like we had some idea of what was going on. As I finally bowed out with great gasping breaths Nathan looked at me and said, "Mom, you have natural basketball ability. I think you've just been hiding it all these years."

I didn't know whether or I should laugh (at such a ridiculous idea) or cry (because he was so dear and serious when he said it) but since I had no remaining oxygen for either reaction, I just gave him a big grin and dragged my wilting self back into the house.

The gym. A Walk. A round of basketball.

Take THAT, you malted milk balls!

In two hours, Steve and I will leave for the Scary Doctor for my 1 pm appointment. (Bring on the happy medicine!) Even though I'm dreading it, I'll go through just about anything in the hopes that someone will eventually find out what's going on with my "now you hear it, now you don't" voice. I'm certainly hoping the solution will not involve surgery but I'm desperate enough for about anything.

Alrighty then. I guess it's time for me to take my "built for basketball" body off and get ready for the day. (Or maybe I should say my "built LIKE a basketball" body.) Yup. That's definitely more accurate.

Either way, I'm just thankful that we can still play basketball, laugh and live life--even in the hallway.

The Week in Review. Sort of.

Oh wait, I can't review a week that hasn't happened yet, can I?

Or can I? This is my blog, after all. If I want to review events that haven't yet happened, I may! I might! I shall! I will! I am! (And other exclamatory words!)

So. On to the "Review."

First of all, because I by no means wish to suffer alone, I will take this opportunity to remind you all of my trip tomorrow to Chapel Hill for a visit with yet another Scary Doctor. This is the doctor who is planning on sticking a camera AND a strobe light up my nose and down my throat.

Why is that I'm not feeling very excited about that?

It will be at least three hours round trip, plus the visit itself so Steve and I will be gone most of the day. However, since I'll be happily full of my relaxing medicine, the whole day will probably just zoom by and I'll just be a perpetually happy camper throughout.

Or, on the other hand, maybe the happy medicine won't do its job and I will end up throwing up all over the Scary Doctor. One never knows.

Stay tuned for this exciting breaking news.

On Wednesday, I get to go back to my dermatologist to have the mole on my chest "re-excised." Or whatever it is they do when they remove it the first time and still don't have clear margins.

So I'm looking forward to cameras up my nose on Tuesday and sharp objects and stitches applies to my person on Wednesday.

Do I know how to have fun, or what?

And speaking of fun, here is Steve staggering under the weight of a pile of insurance statements for Sarah and me from the last several years. We're just trying to do our little part to keep the North Carolinian medical industry healthy.




This Friday, Make-A-Wish has invited its families to the Blue Angels Air Show dress rehearsal. Sarah isn't going to go this time around because she'd have to miss school; also, the last time she went, all the noise from the planes was very distressing to her. But you can bet Steve and Nathan will be there with bells on. And I might even go too; it just depends on whether or not I feel like another outing after the aforementioned "camera up the nose, sharp objects applied to body" outings.

And so there you have it. The Week in Review. Sort of.

Now let me do a "Last Night In Review."

Last night, we had our family portraits done. Snowy even went along and behaved himself rather stunningly. The portraits were provided through an organization called, "The Littlest Heroes Project." This organization provides free family portrait sessions for cancer families by utilizing the talents of professional photographers from around the country who volunteer their time and services. Last night we were paired with Amy from Serenity Photography in Raleigh; she and her colleague, Pam, were delightful to work with. Since (between the two of them) they took about 800 photos, we should definitely get something we like! I'll be posting some of the pictures in the next week or so.

And now I'll go ahead and close with all the exciting breaking news concerning the sale of our house, Steve's new pastoral position, and our move to a new town.

Oh wait. There is no breaking news.

Never mind.

Sigh.

A Medusa In Their Midst

Wow! I just have to say that I have a bunch of wonderful readers who lead interestingly varied lives.

I read every word that you wrote and was wishing for more! If you haven't yet signed in to tell your Smithellaneous Family what you did yesterday, it's not too late. And be sure to read what everyone else wrote, too; believe me, it's good stuff.

I promised a few more words and pictures about our day yesterday so let's get started.

There was only one minor crisis throughout the day and that is what I need to talk about first. I'm still processing the experience and working through the painful ramifications of the trauma. I'm not quite sure if I'm really ready to share it publicly but I guess I can't put it off any longer.

Are you ready for this? Well, here it is.

The United States Air Force made me take off my cap. (Moment of silence, please.)

Okay, here's the story. When I got up yesterday and realized that I didn't have time to wash my hair I thought, "Well, no problem. I'll just smush it down on top, tuck it behind my ears, and stick on a ball cap. I'll look all sporty and youthful and no one will be the wiser."

Yeah, right.

To my great horror, when we got to the flight line the announcement was made by some big wig that since there was a bit of a wind, all caps had to be removed from all heads, since flying caps are a danger to flying planes. (They don't want anything to get caught in the jet engines.)

What I wanted to ask Mr. Big Wig was this, "Which is more important? MY lovely appearance or a multi-million dollar jet? Huh?"

However, since I didn't feel like being hauled to the brig (I bet there's no free high speed Internet available there) I reluctantly removed the cap. The entire bus load of Make-A-Wish people gasped in unison and recoiled in consternation at the sight of the Medusa in their midst. In the greater interest of national security, I stoically put up with the public humiliation of being seen looking so incredibly awful. Fortunately, after we left the flight line, the hat was restored and my fellow passengers were able to settle themselves back down and enjoy the rest of their day.

Okay, now that I've bared my soul and shared my pain, I will share some pictures.

I had a great time observing this guy talk to Steve as we stood right near the flight line and watched the fighter jets take off. Although I couldn't hear a word he was saying, I just knew some amazing flying stories were being communicated to my airplane loving husband. The picture in the middle is one I especially love because it shows this fighter pilot spontaneously throwing his hands up to cheer on his fellow pilot as he takes off.

As we were waiting our turn for the flight simulator, we sat outside in the sunshine for a few minutes. My wacky husband immediately spotted this container and its message.

Of course, he felt compelled to oblige and obey the military directive.

You dress him up and you can't take him out.


And moving on to a more demure Smith, here is Sarah sitting in the simulator

Sarah also became an honorary member of the squadron we were visiting. We were all taken into a briefing room and after hearing about some of the fighter jets we'd been viewing, the base commander came in with some words of welcome. He then called every MAW child in the room forward and personally presented a personalized certificate to each one. It was very touching to see our nation's heroes honoring our pediatric heroes.

And the best picture of the day? The one that displays why our military does what it does.

God bless America!

Since I don't want to make any of you go into spasms of trauma trying to guess what just what we were doing all day, I'll give you a quick description now and fill in with more pictures and details later.

Today, Steve, Sarah and I spent the day at Seymour Johnson Airforce Base in Goldsboro, NC. Make A Wish sponsored the outing and about fifteen MAW kids and their families showed up. We got to sit in a jet cockpit, watch jets take off, go to the flight line, and sit in a flight simulator.

Although Steve was 8.7 times (that's an actual mathematical calculation) more excited about the event that Sarah and me, we still had a fun time. I've always been fascinated by the military and to be escorted back into areas where most civilians don't get to go was really cool. I took a lot of pictures and will be posting them soon.

So that was our day!

Now do you know what would be cool? It would be cool if you would sign the guest book and tell me what YOUR day consisted of. Babysitting? Going to a college class? Painting your toe nails? Building a deck? Making a quiche? Working on your classic Chevy? Eating malted milk balls?

I tell you about my days; tell me about yours! Really! I want to know! And then everyone can read what everyone else writes and then it will be kind of like we can all find out what everyone else did and then it'll be sort of fun! And cool! And community-esque!

I'm so ready to read your stuff because it's endlessly fascinating to me to know what people are doing in their very own personal corner of the world.

It's your turn . . .

Texans and Graham Crackers

Last night, we had some special visitors from Texas, Fran and Ken. Although we'd never met them, the "introductions" had been made via Fran reading Sarah's website for several years. Fran and I had emailed back and forth a little and then the next thing we knew, they were in the area on business (Ken works as a consultant in the petroleum industry) and they asked if they could take us out to dinner.

Since Nathan had to work all day, we opted to go to Chick-Fil-A so that Fran and Ken could meet him, too. As soon as we got in Nathan's line to be waited on, I started giving him a hard time, demanding to speak to the manager, telling Nathan I wanted eight ice cubes in my cup, not nine, and telling him to please stop being so slow and get my order done already. He put up with my motherisms very patiently.

After eating, we brought Ken and Fran back to the house for coffee, dessert and more conversation. It was such a treat to meet more web friends.

Today, Sarah, Steve and I have an exciting outing planned which you can read about by checking back in later. (I know, I know. Mean ol' me.) I had so wanted Nathan to be able to go with us, but he wasn't able to get off work so it'll just be Steve and his lovely ladies.

Before I forget, there were a couple guest book questions/comments to address. A couple of you said the title that I put with Snowy and Sarah's picture scared you. Oops. Sorry! Didn't mean to do that!

Also, Melissa asked if our old church has a new pastor yet. No, they don't, but they are in the process of bringing in candidates.

I'd better go get ready for our outing and make sure my supply of malted milk balls is replenished. (smile) Oh yeah, speaking of yummy things, about a week ago I was in a convenience store a couple hundred miles from Smithfield and found a new bar made out of Golden Grahams cereal, marshmallows and chocolate. If you've read my writing for any length of time, you know that I am a huge fan of anything graham cracker-ish. I bought the bar and LOVED it. Since then, I have looked in several other stores and haven't seen it. It's only available in ONE store in the entire world? And that store is four hours away? Horrors!

Has anyone else seen that bar in your town? I'm hoping it's on its way to becoming nationally distributed because it was love at first sight.

Oh yeah. And "love at first sight" reminded me of something else. (This is like in Steve's sermons when he says, "And as I continue to close . . ." )

Sarah and I were at Goodwill this week and I saw a t-shirt that said, "Do you believe in love at first sight or do I need to walk by again?" Perfect shirt for some cute, college coed.

And then I saw another t-shirt that said, "Money talks but chocolate sings."

I love t-shirts. And Goodwill. And graham cracker bars.

I'm done.

(Plea for help: If you're good with Blogger, I need some advice. I was going to try to replace the picture at the top with another one that was cropped differently; however, I don't know how to delete a picture! And the steps given in Blogger didn't work. Help!!!)

Forever Friends

I'll update later; just wanted to post a picture of two of my favorite "people." (Snowy's hair looks a lot like mine when I get up in the morning--only his looks better.)

Strange and Changing Seasons

First of all, I want to reassure you all that yesterday's excruciating number of postings is not going to become a daily habit. (And everyone breathed a collective sigh of collected relief.) I just happened to have a little extra time on my hands, plus I was still caught up in the thrill of having a new blog and well, what can I say? I just couldn't stop myself!

However, most of the time, I'll just be updating once every day or two. (Or three.) Rarely will I update more than once a day. So please don't worry that keeping up with this blog is going to turn into your new full time job!

I also wanted to share that the poll I took revealed that about 400 of the Smithellaneous readers/poll takers are from CaringBridge and just two of the readers/poll-takers are not. I guess that pretty much answers that question!

For the one or two new readers out there--I'm very glad you're here! I hope you feel at home and realize that if you drop by more than once, you are automatically an adopted member of the Smith Family. (A very scary thought, I realize.)

Well, I guess it might be helpful if I explained the title of this particular post. Or then again, maybe I should just ignore the explanation and let you fill in the blanks yourself! I mean for crying out loud, do you expect me to do all the work around here? The writing? The thinking? The picture taking? The malted milk ball eating?

Did I hear you say, "Yes?" Well, alrighty then! I'd better get to work.

Here's the deal.

Tomorrow marks five months since Steve resigned from First Assembly; five months since we've both been unemployed. Five months! With nothing on the horizon! No churches! No jobs! No home buyers! No money!

Are we having fun yet?

It's really strange to go from living life at 100 m.p.h. to living life like this. Pastors and their families (just like many families) tend to be in a perpetual state of motion and usually find themselves coming and going at all hours of the day. Now all of a sudden, we have lots of time with each other. We have only each other! We are each other's entertainment and social network and community of friends. We've heard each other's jokes and listened to each other's stories and now we're sort of looking around saying, "Uh. Hello, out there? God? Do you have anything else for us?"

Not that we don't enjoy hanging out as a family. We do. And not that we don't stay busy. We do.

For instance, I am taking an online magazine writing course, writing and submitting articles to magazines, taking an Excel class, and trying to apply myself to learning a whole bunch of technical/computer stuff. So that's all been fine. Not to mention dandy.

We're just ready to get on with the next chapter of life, we're ready to be pastors again and find a church and people to love and to serve and to minister to. Five months ago at this time, Steve was perilously near burnout and I wasn't too far behind him. This time of rest and reflection has been good for us but we're about ready for the next phase! We're ready for this strange season to be over. We're ready for the next season to kick in.

However, we made the discovery long ago that we are not in charge of the seasons. We are not in charge of what the seasons contain. We are not even in charge of our next breath! (And as someone who has COPD, that sentence packs a real wallop.)

All we're really in charge of is learning how to trust the One who is in charge. And frankly, I'm glad He's calling the shots and not me. The world would have fallen off its axis a long time ago if I were Boss of the Universe.

I have no doubt that God has the exact place in mind where we'll be going, He knows exactly who is going to buy this house, and He knows what house we will be buying. He knows what school Sarah will be attending and which doctors and medical centers we will find for her ongoing care and treatment.

Sometimes all the details of these strange and changing seasons get to be a bit much and I feel tempted to cower underneath towering clouds of uncertainty and anxiety.

But let me say it once again. I'm not in charge And I'm so very happy about that! The Bible says that God has a future and a hope for us. For me. For you. For everyone who trusts that He is in charge of our strange and changing seasons.