Something To Be Thankful For

A cancelled then postponed adventure, a scare, a trip to the hospital, a miracle.

Yes, it’s 3:03 in the morning and I’m up. Steroids. I tossed and turned until I got up and gave sleep up for right now. The fireplace has the living room cozy, along with my new snowflake Vera Bradley blanket I brought home from Hilton Head. And Meet Me In St Louis is on TCM. There are worse ways to spend a restless night.

I’m in Arkansas. We left here Thursday afternoon, Indiana bound. We got to Pocahontas and Belle called me on FaceTime. We had talked for just a bit when she said, “Your eyes look brown today! Well, that one does. Wait, mom what’s wrong with your pupil? It’s huge!” I turned to look at Ken, he looked back, then turned across all the lanes to pull into a parking lot. He looked at me again but said nothing. He pulled out his phone and went into nurse mode. He flicked the flashlight on, ran it in front of my eyes a couple of times and said, “We are going to the hospital.”

If you know Ken, you know nothing excites him. He’s the calm and cool guy. Always. I’ve seen him scared only a few times. This usually causes a bit of irritation with me. I’m hysterical and instead of meeting me at least half way, he’s on the cool and collected side of things and I want ti hollar at him! Ken got scared. Then I really got scared because Ken doesn’t get scared.

My pupil was completely blown. You couldn’t see any of the green iris I think is my best feature. Just this big dark hole. It was very sunny out so my other pupil was nearly a pin mark, which made the contrast all the more jarring. Ken ran his little light in front of my eye and got zero reaction. My pupil was fixed and dilated.

I started asking questions and he started giving evasive answers while driving like a mad man. We had to turn around in Pocahontas and drive to Jonesboro. That was a LONG trip. I spent every second talking to God. I talked to Mother but stayed off the phone. I let her and Belle do the calling. I prayed. I didn’t bargain, I didn’t beg. I told God he told me he would heal me if I asked, and it was His will, and I told Him I had faith He would.

Ken thought I’d had a stroke or had developed a brain bleed. This is what healthcare does to you. It makes you know immediately all the things.

We got to the hospital and they stated what’s called Stroke Protocol. Everyone got really excited and things moved very swiftly. Lots of blood tests, X-rays, CT’s, and a blue million questions. Then the neurologist came in. She said things were looking normal so far but we were going to admit.

I felt pretty strongly this was an MS related event. I’ve had eye issues from the beginning. In fact, going temporarily blind in my right eye is what started these fun filled seven years.

Now, I’m still praying. My prayer was, let them find nothing. Heal it. I didn’t even start with let me live. I went the whole enchilada. Heal it. Make it go away.

There started being some talk about transferring me to Memphis. I switched prayers for a bit. I stayed. I found out later that the hospitalist who was assigned to me put his foot down to the somewhat hysterical ED doc. He did a great imitation of her yelling at him and waving her arms, “DID YOU SEE HER PUPIL?? DID YOU SEE IT?!” We had a good laugh, but we could by then.

She was extremely held together when she talked to me. I thought she was perceiving this as something that wasn’t that concerning. In fact, I was kind of irritated because I felt she wasn’t taking me too seriously. Let that be a lesson to the both of us. Trust the process. And thank God she didn’t act like that in front of me, I’d have passed out.

So, they stuck me in a room and started in. MRI. High dose steroids, 1000 mg at a time. Angiogram. EKG. Blood.

Finally Dr Gerund walked in. Tall. Dark and foreign. A beautiful man with twinkling eyes over his crisp, white mask. His smile reached his eyes each time he opened one up. He listened. You don’t find that a lot. Doctors walk in and THEY do the talking and you feel misunderstood. He asked questions then quietly stood, hand gripping his chin, eyes and ears on me. I knew I was in good hands as we formulated a plan.

This all happened yesterday. Today, my ophthalmologist was on call. He’s the doctor who first mentioned a multiple sclerosis diagnosis seven years ago. He’d gone back to the beginning and reviewed all of my records. He came in and asked questions and got to work.


We were expecting a huge lesion on my optic nerve. Everyone was. It wasn’t there. It wasn’t even inflamed. The pupil was. Is. But that’s it.

The MRI appears to show no new lesions. Nothing substantial and nothing happening right now.


Everyone shrugged and said it was just a fluke.

My pupil isn’t as big right now. The steroids are working to restore it. Thank God. I looked like an extra on Supernatural 🙄

I feel kind of rotten. All these steroids suck. But they don’t.

I can’t sleep and I’ve been having an awful headache. Most likely my ginormous pupil is letting too much light it.

Who cares. I’m okay. If at the end of this I’m awake and have a headache, I’ll take it.

We are going to start back to Indiana in the morning. Doctors orders. He said there are good hospitals in Indy, go on. So we are.

An answered prayer. One of so many. I feel like this one was significantly bigger that most of the others. I can feel the intervention. As if the Holy Spirit is nudging me towards the reality of what a big deal this is.

I was healed yesterday. I don’t know why God chose to intervene. Maybe just so I could testify to this.

I hope you have a great Thanksgiving. I’m going to. I’m a little more thankful this year.


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