Broken Processor

Broken Processor

I love how I’m a jumble of contradictions. Remember when I claimed to be a verbal processor and then a few days later resumed blogging silence? Please note, I also honestly stated it typically happens in my journal and only occasionally does it manifest into a blog post.

When things are hard and there’s so much to do, communicating with God, myself, and my three men are almost all I can force myself to do. With everyone else it feels like my processor is broken. The explanation is long, the story feels like it’s too much, and often talking about it causes a flood of emotion. But I know the inquiries are sincere. The hearts that carry our burden and lift us in prayer are only expressing their care and concern. Information only helps them know how to love, serve, and pray well.

It’s these moments of recognition and humility that spur me on to say out loud the truth of what we’re currently wrestling with.

An MRI was scheduled and Garrett handled it like a pro. I think just enough time had passed since the last one for him to remember  enough of what it was like and forget enough of what it was like to walk into this one confidently. Isn’t it amazing how God prepared him this way? He left me  and threw a “See you later Mom!” over his shoulder. No biggie.

When he returned he acknowledged that he had forgotten how scary it was and how alone he feels during the MRI. I reminded him that he is NEVER alone.

This MRI, compared to the one he had prior to his surgery this past June, doesn’t show much difference. Meaning, all that the surgeon did  hasn’t had a great impact on the spinal cord because of the area they were unable to free up without causing irreparable damage.

This week Garrett saw his physical therapist for the first time in a month. A repeat assessment shows the neurologic dysfunction worsened, but we’re maintaining range of motion and flexibility. Again, it feels like everything in my life leading to this time has been the Lord’s purposeful preparation.

We’re scheduled for tests on his bladder and kidneys the first week of December, these are the first organs to show neurologic distress in these cases. We’re working on scheduling an appointment with another neurosurgeon to get a second opinion.

Garrett’s up and down. He has good moments and hard painful ones. Of course physically, but I see more emotional waves in him as well.

As it stands, the daily battle is our new normal. Surgery of some kind will be required at some point. There are risks to waiting and there are risks to acting. Great risks. We’re pursuing all knowledge and information we can here and from our  heavenly Father.


Psalm 40

For the director of music. Of David. A psalm.

I waited patiently for the Lord;
    he turned to me and heard my cry.
He lifted me out of the slimy pit,
    out of the mud and mire;
he set my feet on a rock
    and gave me a firm place to stand.
He put a new song in my mouth,
    a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear the Lord
    and put their trust in him.

Blessed is the one
    who trusts in the Lord,
who does not look to the proud,
    to those who turn aside to false gods.
Many, Lord my God,
    are the wonders you have done,
    the things you planned for us.
None can compare with you;
    were I to speak and tell of your deeds,
    they would be too many to declare.

Sacrifice and offering you did not desire—
    but my ears you have opened—
    burnt offerings and sin offerings you did not require.
Then I said, “Here I am, I have come—
    it is written about me in the scroll.
I desire to do your will, my God;
    your law is within my heart.”

I proclaim your saving acts in the great assembly;
    I do not seal my lips, Lord,
    as you know.
10 I do not hide your righteousness in my heart;
    I speak of your faithfulness and your saving help.
I do not conceal your love and your faithfulness
    from the great assembly.

11 Do not withhold your mercy from me, Lord;
    may your love and faithfulness always protect me.
12 For troubles without number surround me;
    my sins have overtaken me, and I cannot see.
They are more than the hairs of my head,
    and my heart fails within me.
13 Be pleased to save me, Lord;
    come quickly, Lord, to help me.

14 May all who want to take my life
    be put to shame and confusion;
may all who desire my ruin
    be turned back in disgrace.
15 May those who say to me, “Aha! Aha!”
    be appalled at their own shame.
16 But may all who seek you
    rejoice and be glad in you;
may those who long for your saving help always say,
    “The Lord is great!”

17 But as for me, I am poor and needy;
    may the Lord think of me.
You are my help and my deliverer;
    you are my God, do not delay.


Posted by on November 19, 2015 in Uncategorized


Days of Battle

In my last post, I touched on trying to find the balance between abling and enabling. Most parents I know are also in this struggle. Just because our situation includes some medical diagnoses and a daily routine that looks different than the “norm” doesn’t mean the principles of operation are that different.

It doesn’t matter if your future includes a wheelchair or not, in this life you have to focus on what you CAN do.


Yes, this is my little guy vacuuming while in his wheelchair.

I’m sure many of you are wondering how the appointment with the neurosurgeon went, it went pretty much as we expected. We scheduled another 2-3 hour MRI for next week. Garrett managed to do one of these back in May without sedation and we’re opting to try that again this time because it gets us in almost 3 weeks earlier than if he needed it. It’s hard for anyone to remain still for that long, but our children’s hospital does an amazing job of working with the kids and setting them up for success. He will be able to watch a movie during the MRI. It’s moments like this I am thankful he completely zones out when you put a screen in front of his face.

In addition, the doctor said that pushing Garrett physically would not damage anything neurologically, and instructed me to push him for everything he’s got.

This is where I can’t help but acknowledge the goodness of God and His Sovereignty. I’m thankful for many of those around us for calling it out as well. I’ve walked through difficult medical situations before, both advocating for another and for myself. My education and work experience as a massage therapist and wellness partner has prepared me uniquely. Many of my passions come together to serve Garrett in this life.

We left the doctors office and I took him to lunch. We had a “come to Jesus” talk.

In many ways, Garrett is innocent, naive, and gullible. When it comes to medical situations and similar, he’s mature beyond his years. I explained we needed to push and work to make any gains possible if we wanted to get him back on his feet.

“We’re going to get mad at each other, we’re going to cry, and we’re both going to be exhausted,” I said.

The downside is there’s a big chance that this pushing won’t get us where we want to be. The neurosurgeon suspects that the area of nerves he was unable to dissect from scar tissue during the last surgery is what is causing the problems.

Right now it feels like we have to fight with everything that we have between now and our follow up with the neurosurgeon in 2 weeks.

I’ve always looked at expanding my knowledge about the body and learning techniques for healing as adding tools to my toolbox. That toolbox just morphed into an arsenal.

I said to the LORD, “You are my God; Give ear, O LORD, to the voice of my supplications. “O GOD the Lord, the strength of my salvation, You have covered my head in the day of battle.” Psalm 140:6-7

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Posted by on October 30, 2015 in Faith, Family


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Good Days

Good Days

Yes, there are good days.

We obviously made the right choice in allowing Garrett to use the wheelchair around the house. It took a day to recoup, but now at the end of the day he’s not in near as much pain nor as exhausted (and whiny).

It’s always a struggle to balance the abling and the enabling. I’m sure there are some who might say I fall too far to one side or the other. I try very hard to raise both my boys with the hope of their futures in mind. I want them to be responsible, independent, respectful, capable men; husbands and fathers if they so choose. In order to do that, I’m not just raising them but training them. They have to have a safe place to practice these things, to fail at them and grow into incorporating them as part of their character. As parents, we’re still learning too!

Yesterday, we went to church. It was so good for all of us to be surrounded by our church family. The hugs, the words spoken with looks and encouraging smiles, and the prayers were exactly what our spirits needed. Even though this is all we really need, there have been calls, texts, and visits. Coffees and meals have been scheduled and delivered. Invites into homes for family dinners. Plans to watch our beloved Royals in the World Series with friends. Cards, balloons, and gifts for my sweet sweet boy just to let him know he’s seen. We feel loved and supported. All of these acts are showing my boys that not only are we called to live and love like Jesus, but they are being loved by Jesus as others feel called to do it too.

There’s a lot of beauty in the broken moments of life.

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Posted by on October 26, 2015 in Uncategorized


In the Dark

In the Dark

Yesterday was a hard day. My eyes popped open at 5:00 am. There’s not much I love and enjoy more than sleep. I’ve learned, though, that during hard seasons this is what God does. He wakes me up before the sun, prompting me to lay my burdens down before His Son. I need time to assess, process, and release my emotions simply to be able to function.

It looks different from day to day. Sometimes I feel it all bubbling up and I know I have to get out of the house. I lace up my shoes and run it out. Sometimes it’s sitting soaking the quiet of the world in, steeping in scripture, and writing in my journal. Occasionally, it’s a blog post.

The fact is, it’s easier to function and be level with all that goes on in Garrett’s day when I do this. Even when I do these things there are days when I can feel it all ready to break over, but I try not to let him see the flood. That’s not to say he doesn’t see me get emotional, he does. But I know my boys, and experiencing mommy do the ugly cry, would only bring them worry.

Thankfully, I do have plenty of people who are a safe place for the ugly cry. Many who carry me with prayers.

The writing helps because I’m a verbal processor. If I’m thinking it or feeling it, I need to get it out, get it down. If I don’t it just rolls around in my mind becoming bigger and scarier than it really is. If I can hear myself say it or read it, it’s easier to combat it with Truth.

The running helps my body rid itself of the stress and energetic build up of emotions. It’s also cheap.

Garrett slept with us, his legs frequently spasming throughout the night. I hadn’t realized this had begun. Things are moving pretty fast. It seems as soon as I hit publish on the last post, we decided it was time to bring the wheelchair into the house. He’s barely able to stand with the walker.

Even though I was up early, it wasn’t a good day to go run. Bob had been out late at the neighbors watching and celebrating the Royals WIN!! I wasn’t confident he’d wake easily if Garrett needed something. But I could feel the threat of not just a flood, but a storm. I sent an SOS text to a dear friend. “I know this is a lot to ask, but G isn’t doing very well and I’m having a hard time holding it together. I really need to punch and kick some stuff in an empty gym.”  The response was “What time?”

I punched and kicked and cried and yelled and listened to loud angry music for almost an hour.

Then I came home, showered and snuggled with the little guy on the couch.

I wasn’t really sure what had brought it all on, but when I was done I was grateful that the tears weren’t constantly threatening to spill over. Before I knew it, it was time to get him ready for bed. Often by this time of the day I’m done, wore out and worn down, and Daddy jumps in. For whatever reason, I wanted to do it. He soaked in the tub for a while with epsom salts and essential oils. He kept asking me to do stuff for him. Yes, he definitely tries to manipulate the situation when he can. There are lots of things he needs help with and the number is growing, but I’m pretty hard about making him do for himself as much as he can. When he was done washing, I instructed him from the other room to get out and dry off. I had everything set up the way he needed. I heard him try to get out, but he slipped. He tried again and couldn’t. He yelled for me to come help, his voice breaking.

When I enter he says, “I’m trying to get out, but I keep slipping. I even bonked my head on the faucet.” We try again, together, but he doesn’t have enough control or strength in his legs to get traction and I pretty much lift him out. I thank God I can because there was a time when I couldn’t. I set him on his stool and wrap him in his towel. I tell him to dry himself off. He asks me to, but I push back. HE HAS TO DO WHAT HE CAN FOR HIMSELF.

As he begins to dry off he says, “I don’t know why my legs are doing this.” I’m not sure I hear him correctly and squat down to his eye level, “what baby?” He repeats it and his face breaks. He buries his head in my neck.

This is why I felt the flood earlier, this is why I was prompted to go punch and kick some things. FOR THIS MOMENT.

Yes, tears spilled down both of our cheeks, but I was able to control myself and maintain composure. In that moment, I had the power to be what he needed me to be, strong, stable, and truthful.

There is a lot we won’t find answers to this side of heaven. But I’ve seen and felt enough to know that God is good. God created all of us uniquely and for a purpose. It’s ok to be angry or sad about our circumstances, but we have every reason to believe the plan is for good. When we find ourselves in the pit, repeating what we know is true gives us a firm place to stand.

For you created my inmost being;
    you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
    your works are wonderful,
    I know that full well.
 My frame was not hidden from you
    when I was made in the secret place,
    when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed body;
    all the days ordained for me were written in your book
    before one of them came to be. Psalm 139:13-16

 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. Jeremiah 29:11-13

The plan is working. We’re seeking Jesus with all our heart. Our every hope is in Him. We feel His love through the many who are praying and loving us through right now.


Posted by on October 25, 2015 in Faith, Family


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The Gap

The Gap

Quite some time has passed since my last post and much life has been lived in the gap. The reality is, life is so full I don’t often make the time to write formally here, even though it really does bless me to do so.

See the last grouping of posts were written either during the dysfunction or during the resting portion of recovery from surgery. The truth is that we’ve been up to our eyeballs fighting our way back.

Garrett underwent spinal cord de-tethering surgery on 6/20/15. Someday, I will write that day’s post, I promise. One thing’s for sure when you’re headed into a surgery like that, after witnessing your child live in pain, you’re ready to truly surrender the whole thing. It has long ceased to be about you and what you want, what dreamed for your child’s future and definitely not about easing your pain and exhaustion. You’ve reached the end of your rope and there’s nothing left for you to do. You enter into the moment willing to accept whatever outcome, you just hope and pray the pain will be gone.

Our neurosurgeon asked us to proclaim our medical priorities for Garrett and it was pretty easy to say 1. organ health, 2. Pain-free 3. Mobility. He indicated that exactly what I suspected was going on was, stress on the spinal cord due to tethering and scar tissue, and that this surgery would be the only way to medically treat Garrett.

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Like I said earlier, since surgery we’ve been working hard to heal and come back strong. Garrett’s been working hard with a really great physical therapist and he was making great progress!  Just a few weeks ago, it looked like he might even get released from PT early. Then things started going the other way. Garrett started regressing. His balance got worse, his legs were weaker, and he fatigue began hitting him sooner. The PT and I both had the scary thoughts cross our minds, but we also knew that Garrett was experiencing a growth spurt and hoped that was the cause. The PT ran Garrett through a lot of assessments of strength, flexibility, balance, and reflexes and recorded the results. The next week he did the same and in addition to marked changes in the results, there were stronger indications of neurologic stress/dysfunction. In one look across the room, he communicated everything and I struggled to hold it together.

Again we’re in the space of the unknown. We suspect there’s something going on with his spinal cord again.

We cut the appointment short so that we could both call the neurosurgeon and request Garrett be seen as quickly as possible.

That was 10/12/15. The soonest they could get us in was 10/28/15 and they added us to the list of to call if there is a cancellation. They instructed us, of course, to go to urgent care or the ER if symptoms became severe and unmanageable.

We haven’t said much to many people, we’ve been processing and coming to terms with it. I just told my siblings yesterday.

Over the last week, there’s been an even greater decline. He’s using a walker around the house, and a wheelchair when we’re out and about. However, being on his feet at all is becoming increasingly painful and unsafe.

We share this all now because the weight of it is getting heavy and we remember well how so many around us shared the burden with us last time. We would appreciate your prayers to help lift us up and carry us through again.

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Posted by on October 23, 2015 in Faith, Family


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What do you expect?


Neurosurgery clinic called today. The doctor returned, reviewed Garrett’s file, and would like to see us tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow.

*This should have been my first clue, but I missed it.


As my husband is getting ready for work, he asks if I’m sure I don’t need him to go with us today.

Since Garrett has gotten older and can entertain himself play on the iPad independently, we typically conserve Bob’s paid time off/sick/vacation for when we absolutely have to use it or can truly enjoy it. I’ve been doing the kids appointments solo for quite some time, and almost prefer it that way.  It’s just easier for me to concentrate on getting one vehicle to the right destination on time than two. I know you get it.

I assure him I will be fine, but if he feels better going then he can come.

Do you and your husband do this?  Volley the question back and forth trying to be sensitive to the others needs and feelings, and both of you end up kinda exasperated about the whole thing? Yeah, that.

Bob poses the final question. “What do you expect to happen at the appointment?”

*This should have been clue number two.

Because our neurosurgeon is so conservative.

Because we’ve been down this road before.

Especially because the MRI wasn’t showing the “typical” indicators.

“He’s going to look at me, laugh, tell me how blessed we are to have such a high functioning SB kiddo and refer me to ortho and physical therapy.”

Keep in mind, all this time we’ve been praying, our people, and our church have all been praying.  Yes, sweet hand clasped prayers for healing and strength. But also feet hitting the pavement, running prayers of salty sweat and tears. Gut wrenching, sobbing prayers in the shower. Hours and hours of reading and praying God’s promises over every aspect of the situation.

For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland. Isaiah 43:19 NLT

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. John 1:5 NIV

This is my command–be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the LORD your God is with you wherever you go. Joshua 1:9 NLT


And God did make a path in our wilderness. Light shined in our darkness, and it did not overcome. And the Lord encouraged us and proved He was with us through all the love, support, and prayers of others.

The doctor, in no uncertain terms, indicated surgery to untether Garrett’s spinal cord was the best preventative and hopefully restorative action step.

What do you expect?

We expected God to show up. We didn’t know how, when, or what it would look like, we just waited expectantly and continue to do so.

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Posted by on July 2, 2015 in Faith, Family


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Team Meeting

Team Meeting


Spina Bifida Clinic

Since birth Garrett has been seen by a team of doctors at least annually, but usually bi-annually to stay on top of his health and wellness. The team consists of a neurosurgeon, orthopedic surgeon, urologist, rehab med doc, physical therapist, pediatrician, nutritionist, and specialized nurse practitioners. The majority of this team have remained the same all these years, I feel they all are very passionate about what they do and truly care for Garrett and our family as a whole.

The clinic set up is great. All of the patient rooms are in a square and the kids frequently end up in the hallway, which is carpeted to look like a road, playing with one another. Many of the kids we see there also attend the same Spina Bifida summer camp. Because of this, clinic is not something we dread but look forward to.

Garrett and his buddy at Spina Bifida camp

Garrett and his buddy at Spina Bifida camp summer 2014

Today everyone examined and reviewed Garrett’s signs and symptoms, putting their heads together to determine what exactly is going on. Timing was a bit off, as our neurosurgeon is not here, but on mission somewhere in Africa (I think). We left with an order for ongoing physical therapy and assurance that the team would communicate the concerns with the neuro as soon as possible upon his return.

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Posted by on July 2, 2015 in Faith, Family


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