To read my entire journey thus far, click links below:

Health Chronicles—Journey of the Uninsured

Health Chronicles—Journey of the Uninsured Part II

Health Chronicles—Journey of the Uninsured Part III

A friend once told me that I was frail. It’s been many years and I’m sure she meant no harm; yet it’s stuck with me.

I am, by nature, a doer with an Acts of Service primary love language. At times my hustling can be to a fault—a Martha, if you will. I’m well aware. I have spent days watching multiple children {up to six in past years}, cleaning house, washing my car at nap time, cooking supper, tending my own children after school, and solving world peace. That last part was a bit of a stretch.

I don’t say this for any sort of accolades. If anything, I’ve learned to pace myself. My point is that I’m prone to go, go, go and sometimes push myself beyond exhaustion. I recently moved my office furniture out of my office to prepare for my father to paint it. My office, not the furniture, that is. He would’ve helped. But he’s 76 and works hard for his age as it is. I put my youngest daughter’s baby bed together by myself while I was pregnant with her. I did have to have some help in the end.

I’m not afraid of work. But it’s true that I will push myself. And I often crash and burn. Throughout this cycle I often think of my friend’s reference to me as frail. My health issues have certainly taken toll on me this past year. And in previous years when that reference was made, I had been diagnosed as hypoglycemic. That’s certainly not a life threatening situation. But I imagine even the symptoms of hypoglycemia can be worsened by persistent doing.

When I was diagnosed with anemia during my urgent care visit last May, I felt a slight sense of relief that at least I knew why I was so overwhelmingly fatigued. The practitioner—an old high school friend of my husband—seemed concerned and very compassionate. I was wiped out. Dr Google revealed that anemia symptoms can bring on heart problems which made the abnormal EKG make perfect sense. Still, there was the follow up with the cardiologist that was ordered. Not to mention, the practitioner suggested blood work to determine which type of anemia. He did not want an assumption that it was low iron. I had no clue at the time that there was more than one form of anemia. Dr Google taught me a lot about that as well. But what the practitioner didn’t realize is that I had been dealing with four plus months of colon and abdominal problems including rectal bleeding that could’ve been the culprit. Oh the beauty of hindsight! I should’ve told him all of this. At the time, those symptoms took a back seat and I saved myself what I felt would be undue embarrassment.

I brought with me to the cardiologist appointment all of the paperwork from the urgent care clinic. My cardiologist looked them over. But he made light at the numbers and said it’s common for women my age to have bouts of anemia even from monthly cycles. He felt the numbers weren’t high enough to warrant blood work. Perhaps I should’ve felt relief. Instead I felt frail.

And once again I kept the details of all of those other symptoms that may have landed me in his office in the first place, to myself. After all, he was a heart doctor. Did he really need to know? After that appointment and the subsequent tests and clearance on my heart, I felt—for a season—that I should suck it up. After all, the initial symptoms of severe rectal pain, possible fissure, bleeding, etc, weren’t known to many. And apparently this anemia that could come and go was “common.” Insert a *positive* POWER ON e-card here.

I’m currently in my pajamas sitting on my bed on a heating pad. I am tired. No, I am fatigued. At times it makes me nervous. Like when those old symptoms of chest pressure tightens and I feel short of breath. I want to curl in a fetal position and cry. And then sleep. But life continues. I ask myself and the LORD, “Am I really frail?” I push and have peaks of slight energy and I think, ahhh, the symptoms are subsiding! I move on as if they were never there, attempting to forget about them. Maybe I am frail? Before I can ponder too long, they return. It feels like a roller coaster ride. A horrible, jerking, uncomfortable roller coaster ride. And you’re not sure if the ride made you nauseous or if you were to begin with and the ride made it worse. You just want off, already. After all, you’re too frail to be on this ride!

In the midst of all of these cycling symptoms and reasoning, I continue to remind myself that it does not matter the whys of all of this crazy health business. What matters is that truth hasn’t changed. It doesn’t change. It can’t change. So in spite of them, in spite of frailty, I look to Truth. And I repeat often, “Your strength is made perfect in my weakness!” {1 Corinthians 12:9}

And then I power on . . . in His strength.

Because me??? I am way too frail.

We are merely moving shadows, and all our busy rushing ends in nothing. We heap up wealth, not knowing who will spend it. ~ Psalm 39:6 NLT

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