Beside Still Waters

Beside Still Waters
Dorcas Annette Walker

I groan and roll over as my body protests. Not another day in bed! I shut my eyes in frustration. Will I ever be normal again? Even my doctor isn’t exactly sure what is going on. I went from being an active person to an invalid seemingly overnight. Why God why? Then a verse from the Psalms comes to my mind. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside the still waters. Psalms 23:2 Life certainly has become still now-a-days compared to the hectic pace I used to keep up with before.

First I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia. Maybe my past history of rheumatoid arthritis caused the flare-up. Who knows. All the tests from a stay in the hospital came back normal despite constant headaches, fatigue, and increasing bone pain. I started tracking each day looking for patterns in weather, stress, anything that would give me a clue why I’d wake up with pain radiating throughout my body that exhausted me until I was unable to get out of bed. The constant headaches grew worse as my pain intensified, whick increased pain meds barely affected. Some days I can’t wake up enough to function. Other times the fog in my mind is so severe I was unable to concentrate leaving me feeling confused and scared. I have to hang on the walls to keep my balance. My doctor ordered more tests done as numbness spread to my hands and feet causing me to trip and fall when I try to walk. I started using a walker. I went to a rheumatologist and neurologist. I only got worse. One night the pain in my head intensified to such a degree that I couldn’t sleep. My husband rushed me to the emergency room. I passed out and had mild seizures. A CT scan was done, but everything came back normal. I was put on migraine medication, which only helped for a couple of weeks then was useless. My doctor shook his head in frustration as my symptoms kept increasing.

I don’t have enough energy to get dressed. My goal for a day consists of trying to take a shower or brushing my teeth. I had to give up my kid’s class at the local church where my husband pastored. I couldn’t lead the choir or play the organ. Next I resigned my position as the missionary leader. Instead of doing visitation with my husband, people now brought food to the parsonage. Deep inside I know that God has a purpose in everything that happens, but it is hard to focus on the positive as days dragged by and I was in bed more than up. I feel guilty seeing my husband trying to cope with the unfamiliar territory of housework, cooking, and washing clothes. I try to pray when my mind is clear enough. I remind the Lord how useful I could be if only He would heal my body. Before I had always been an active person that kept going no matter how sick I felt. Now my body refuses to respond to my demands. I feel depressed and useless. On days of intense pain I pop pain meds that put me under only to wake back up in severe pain.

My blood work never showed the presence of Lyme’s disease from tick bites that years before antibiotics had knocked out of my system. Desperate I called a Lyme’s specialist. As soon as I began describing my symptoms I was told that my Lyme’s had come back out of remission. I was in the third stage needing to get on antibiotics immediately. My local doctor agreed to start me on antibiotics to see if it would help. Within a week’s time I began to feel like myself again and the headaches were not as severe. I was hoping by a month’s time I’d be back on my feet again, but I am still bedfast. When will I be normal again? When can I get up for good?

It reminds me of when I was a child and my mother would put us kids down for an afternoon nap. Often I was full of energy and didn’t want to lie still. After what would seem like hours I’d call for my mother. Isn’t it time to get up? My mother would say, “Lay back down, Dorcas. It isn’t time to get up yet. I’ll tell you when you can get up.” It would seem forever until she would say, “You can get up now.” My heavenly Father knows best how long I need to rest quietly beside the still waters. So I’ll try to be patient a bit longer. When I get discouraged He sends me signs of His love. A phone call from a friend to tell me that they are praying for me, a get well card in the mail, even the chirping birds outside my window remind me that God is in control. He has a plan for my life. I can trust Him. I finally get my aching body comfortable and close my eyes. I will not fight the overwhelming fatigue but rest. Maybe tomorrow I will be able to be back up on my feet again. Meanwhile I’m not alone. Beside me a furry, fat cat is purring.

The Bag Lady

The Bag Lady
Dorcas Annette Walker

Who the stranger in my mirror staring back at me? She looks pale and wan. It can’t be me. Those pain-dulled eyes ringed with dark circles are not mine. My cheeks are always rosy and my eyes sparkle with life and laughter. And her greasy hair. Horrors! My hair is always combed and neat. I search in vain for my face. Have I totally disappeared? I recognize familiar features, but this stranger looks older than me. Where did I go? This person stinks. I shudder trying to remember just how long it has been since I had a shower. I am shocked to see stains on my pajamas. How did they get there? My finger and toe nails need to be trimmed. How could I have let myself go? I look like one of the homeless people on the street that I used to pity. My body needs a major overhaul. At what point did I give up? When did the simple act of brushing my teeth become too much of a burden to do? I step in the shower and begin scrubbing my body reveling in the feel of warm water as pulsates over tense muscles washing away the signs of neglect. When I am dry I have to sit down so I can catch my breath. I still have to trim my nails, wash my hair, and hopefully get dressed. I won’t stop until I am civilized from head to toe, even if it takes all day. That evening I relax in my recliner feeling like myself. I promise that I will never let myself get like that again.

A week later: I glance in the mirror and see the bag lady again. No! Go away! I hate you! Get out of my life! I turn my head away from the haunting image in my mirror. Despair overwhelms me as I hang onto the sink trying to keep my balance. Pain escalates and I stagger back to bed. It takes all my energy trying to survive in my world of pain. The bag lady will have to wait.

It's a Dog's LIfe

It’s a Dog’s Life
Dorcas Annette Walker

Did I really think that life was normal again? Who was I kidding?
Outside my window a beautiful autumn morning mocks me as I lie in bed. I yearn to feel warm sunshine on my face as I work in my neglected flowerbeds or smell the scent of clean wash hanging on the clothesline. Not spending the day stuck in bed. I fight back tears of frustration. I need to be in my kitchen making potato salad for the fish fry tonight at my home church that I’ve looked forward to with so much anticipation for a month. Instead I’m battling a headache and trying to get my bone pain under control. Lucy Lou, my mixed poodle, lies beside me. As if sensing my distress she licks my hand in sympathy. Maybe if I stay in bed for a couple of hours I can make a dessert for tonight instead of fixing potato salad. Chronic fatigue threatens to overwhelm me. I prop my body up with pillows so I can read a book to help keep me awake. I turn a couple pages trying to concentrate. The words blur before my eyes and I feel my body sag sideways. The next thing I know I’m struggling to wake up. Lucy Lou is on her back beside me snoring. A glance at the clock tells me it is past lunch time. I stagger out of bed hanging onto anything handy to help me to stay upright. By the time I fix a yogurt shake, take another pill, and convince Lucy Lou to come back inside I am exhausted. Lucy Lou sits beside me hoping for a tidbit as I drink my lunch and try to read. For some reason every time I eat my dog thinks she needs to share my food. When I ignore her, Lucy Lou flops down and begins chewing on her rawhide bone. My eyes feel heavy and it becomes too much of an effort to read so I let my body roll over and close my eyes in relief. The next thing I know my husband, Dana, is calling my name. He has come home from work. I force myself awake. He assures me that there will be plenty of food. All I need to do is get dressed. I slowly get out of bed hanging onto the side of my dresser bureau trying to get my balance. I feel dizzy, disoriented, and every bone in my body hurts with each step that I take. Lucy Lou runs around me in circles oozing boundless energy that makes me jealous. When I barely make it to the bathroom without falling I realize that I won’t be going anywhere. It is a relief just to get back in bed. My husband and son, Dwight, leave for the fish fry promising to bring me back a piece of catfish. The house once again is silent. I turn on my side trying to lesson the nagging pain in my spine. Outside my window the world has turned to twilight. Lucy Lou flops down beside me and heaves a big sigh. I reach over and pat her silky ears. I know, sweetheart, it’s a dog’s life, huh?

Lyme Light

Lyme Light
Dorcas Annette Walker

I’d like to shed some light on Lyme’s disease, which has become a debatable subject in the medical field. I don’t have any doctorate behind my name. I’m just a patient that lives with an incurable disease. It all started with a tick bite- something I thought at the time insignificant. Now I’m in the third stage battling to get this disease back into remission before it attacks my vital organs. You can read about how it all started at: www.dorcasannettewalker.com. I want to give the disease of Lyme a human face, a voice, to raise awareness of a silent epidemic that changes a person’s entire world. I need a listening ear as I vent my frustrations on my journey back to normal and relight the spark to once again believe that my life will count for something. It seems incredible that a tiny tick could cause so much havoc- reducing my busy lifestyle where I had everything neatly compartmentalized into struggling day by day to function normally. I’ve stumbled into a twilight zone where one is dependent on pills to exist. I struggle amidst the fog in my brain to find a door, an exit, to where life is normal. I yearn to join the mass of humanity that races past me just out of reach. My spirit rebels at living on the sideline with a body that refuses to cooperate. There has to be a light somewhere that will lead me out of this confusion into freedom. So I’ll keep searching, reaching to find the key to unlock my prison.