Oops. The end of 2013 has snuck up on me. Even today, driving in the van, Ken and I discussed when New Years Eve is. We both agreed it was tomorrow, until we subsequently agreed that there is no such thing as December 32nd.

Tough and tumultuous. Promise and progress. 2013 has been a chronicle of contradictions and a season of learning.

A year ago this week, we challenged the kids to speak no more Lingala. Addie and Palmer were content to have their own family, their own conversations, and exclusivity of their loyalties and affections. They were content to live in our house, play with our toys, eat our food, but only converse with each other. Sure, they knew some essential phrases to get along, “Pizza,” “Please,” “Bathroom,” but relational conversation was just between the two of them.

So Ken and I bribed them.

With incentives of bicycles and allowances, Addie and Palmer began to let us into their world.

I sometimes think this is how God must feel about us — we are happy to consume His provisions, enjoy His creation, bask in His blessings. We may even offer up phrases, “Thank you Jesus for this food. Amen.” or recite a laundry list of prayer requests. What He wants even more is relationship — He made us in His own image, breathed life into our nostrils, walked with us in the Garden.

Addie remained fairly silent for months. She started speaking in sentences a full 9 months after coming home from the Congo. That’s a really long time to wait for a child to speak. Fortunately, Palmer’s verbal skills were much more quick to develop. Intelligent  and analytical, he has an incredible memory. As he began to speak, we began to learn more and more about their lives in the Congo — and why they had been so hesitant to speak to us to begin with. They have experienced more tragedy and hardship in their lives than most of us adults have or even will. The guilt associated with their life experiences was unbearable. How do you parent a child who has more life experience, more survival skills, more responsibility shouldered then you can comprehend? He has a bent toward not disobedience and arrogance because he has been his own parent. Can we teach him to merely be a child again?  Can we teach him to trust and respect authority?

Countless times throughout scripture, we are encouraged to have faith of a child, consider ourselves children of God, and even challenges us that if we don’t become like children, we will not enter the Kingdom of Heaven. Why? After living with a 9-year-old adult for the last 18 months, I can see it: trust and respect for God’s authority in our lives. Willingness to release our guilt and experience joy. Less dependence on our survival skills and more dependence on God.

Addie has had different struggles. Because she is less verbal, her grief has been expressed in behavioral problems. After months of baffling and awful behavior at home, I talked to her about the dark places in our heart that hurt and make us want to do bad things. I also talked to her about Jesus being the Healer of those dark places, and if she wanted, Jesus would come and help heal the hurts in her heart. I felt so inadequate to try to explain theology of the sinful nature to a 7-year-old with poor verbal skills. Fortunately, the Holy Spirit translated for me and she accepted Jesus into her heart. The change in her behavior has been, well, miraculous.

I am reminded that Jesus not only wants to take away our sin, but heal us of our bent to sinning. Too often we want Jesus to forgive us for our actions, but what He really wants to deliver us from is the sinful nature itself. We want a band-aid. He wants to do surgery.

At the end of the year, I am shocked by the remarkable progress the kids have made. Physically they have grown approximately 7 inches and gained nearly 20 pounds each. They look very much like the 7 and 9 years old that they actually are . . . we think. Educationally, they are catching up to their peers, and getting good grades at school. Spiritually, they ask very deep questions about God, salvation, heaven, and sin on almost a daily basis. Emotionally they are beginning to relax and have a sense of belonging to our family.

My health has made less progress this year. After thousands of dollars of treatments, procedures, far too many steroids, and cultures we still know very little. The cultures from my bronchoscopy all came back negative, but I always improve almost immediately on antibiotics. Unfortunately, we have progressed to using strong antibiotics used at dosages that most medical providers wouldn’t feel comfortable prescribing. I’ve gone through 2 courses in the last six months, but the residual nagging cough seems like it’s here to stay. Again this year, I’ve come close to death several times, but I’ve realized that I’m not afraid. “Jesus likes to keep me close,” is my mantra. Illness just reminds me that I cannot do His work on my own, but must trust Him for my every breath.

The biggest challenge of the 2013 has been my job. With the loss of 4 employees (out of 11) and 2 more going part-time, I’ve felt like I’m trying to steer a ship in a hurricane. I’ve retained my old job as Didactic Education Coordinator, taken on the position of Program Director, and am also doing much of the work of the Clinical Education Coordinator. With no one to train me, it’s been a steep learning curve. I recently did a utilization review to try to establish bearings, and found that my to-do list per day is usually around 70 items, and additionally I get between 80-100 emails daily, and respond to most. Then there are meetings to attend, classes to teach, students to advise, interviews to conduct, and on and on, that aren’t really to-do items, but important nonetheless. We’ve had more critical issues in our Program in the last six months than we’ve had in the 5 years that I’ve been there combined. I come home exhausted every day. Fortunately, I’ve been blessed by an all-star team of new employees who love God and want to be a part of His work in our Program. And God is at work. Students are coming to know God in ways that are remarkable. They are learning to balance grace and truth. He is calling students to Himself,  to work among the poor, and now even in countries where Christians are persecuted, because this is where the future of missions is. We are still teaching excellent medicine, but God is clearly calling us to focus on serving the poor domestically and globally.

I went to a Christian Community Health Fellowship conference in Atlanta back in May, in the first few weeks of my Program Directorship. In the week afterward, I debriefed with the students who went with me, and we all came up with summarizing statements about what God was speaking to us about. It was at that time that I shared with my students that just like our hearts individually, our Program needed a Savior, and I am not it. Jesus is. The job of calling, cleansing, and redeeming is not mine. I am only a tool in His hands, and my job is to ensure that our Program lives and breathes the aroma of Christ in all that we do. There are many Programs that train Physician Assistants, but He has called us to educate not only excellent medical providers, but PAs who practice medicine as ministry. Yes, there have been obstacles this year, but Kingdom work has never been safe work, has it?

Ultimately, 2013 has been a year of diving into the dangerous waters of knowing God and doing His will. My students often tell me that they are impressed that I have the ability to make everything spiritual. Perhaps that is because I believe everything is spiritual. We were not meant to have divided lives. Whether it is parenting two traumatized children, coping with illness, or directing a medical Program, God has lessons to learn in all things.

When I was growing up, I always knew that God wanted me to save room in my home for children who did not otherwise have one. With so many children in the world without homes, options were plenty, and still are. Domestic adoption of minorities, international adoption, and foster care all have tremendous needs. I realize not everyone is directed by God to bring an orphan into their home, but I do believe we are all called to do something for the cause of the orphan.

“Satan hates adoption,” was one of the first phrases I became familiar with when we first began our adoption journey. It was difficult. It always has been, and continues to be. The adoption community is full of difficult stories — almost no one is immune. Fraud, scandal, kidnappings, corruption, apathy, bribery, and abuse are common topics discussed behind the curtains of the adoption community. Most of us fear sharing the reality of adoption because we do not want to scare others away, realizing that many of us likely would not have chosen such a difficult road had we knew what it would be like. So we hide in Facebook groups, online forums, and private messages to support one another through difficult times, and celebrate the victories along the way. But not a one of us regrets the journey, because these are our children. What cost is too great to save the life of a child? Would not any parent face any dangers necessary to save the life that God had chosen for them?

Caring for orphans is dangerous work. Satan does not meddle with initiatives that do not storm the gates of hell. But adoption certainly does.  Adoptive parents are some of the toughest, and most tender people you will ever meet. And they need prayers, support, and encouragement, even if they won’t allow you to know what’s really going on. Sometimes it’s just to hard to put into words.

Let me try.

To give you a glimpse of what is public, there has been a development in Congo adoptions: exit letters are suspended for up to 12 months. I have friends who have legally been parents of children in the Congo for nearly a year, who have yet to get permission to bring home their child. First, there was a new 6 month investigation phase initiated earlier in the year, and just when they thought they had cleared that hurdle, exit permits were suspended. That means that even if adoptive parents even have the permission of the United States to bring their children home, but the DRC will not let the children leave.  To make matters worse, dysentery has swept through one of the orphanages associated with American adoptions, killing 33 of 52 children, while the government works out new processes for adoption. The heartache is palpable. The needs are so urgent. Hope is hard these days.

And yet these families continue to pray, plead, and fight and raise money to bring their children home. Because that’s what is what they are called to do. They are not giving up on their children.

Because God never gave up on any of us.

Today is Orphan Sunday.

Not everyone is called to adopt. But we are all called to do something.

I’d ask you to consider being a tangible encouragement to a DRC adoptive family today.

I’ve collected links to those who are fundraising to bring their children home from the Congo.

1. Look through the links and make at least ONE purchase to make a difference in the life of a child this Orphan Sunday. There are some wonderful, creative, and beautiful things for sale, and would make terrific Christmas gifts. Would you consider making all of your Christmas purchases ones that will make Kingdom impact?

2. Comment on their blogs or pages with a word of encouragement.

3. Pray for their families. Their WHOLE families, including their precious children stuck on the other side of the world. Pray for stamina for the parents. Pray for health, nutrition, and emotional and spiritual protection for their children. And pray that they are united soon.

4. Post this blog on your Facebook wall. Encourage others to do the same.

This store has absolutely adorable merchandise. I am in love with this rosette necklace, and they have beautiful burlap and chevron items that will add style to your home and self. 

If you haven’t had Just Love Coffee, you are just missing out! As a former barista, I know good coffee, and this is it! We used to fundraise through Just Love Coffee, and now we are subscribers in order to pass along blessings to current adoptive families. My favorite is African Skies. 

Here is a fundraiser that includes a drawing for some great prizes that would make great gifts for yourself or someone else. Each ticket is only $10!

This fundraiser makes me wish I was closer to Oklahoma! If you are in the area, you are in luck! I’m hoping leftover items will be posted for sale!

This Etsy shop features some very cute felt toys for kids, shirts, and custom-made “hair pretties.” I think Addie would love the Busy Book, and it would help her develop her fine motor skills! 

Oh my sweetness, this Etsy Shop has so much hand-sewn love in fabric form. If you’ve ever searched for the perfect black baby doll, look no further. Even if you have Caucasian kids, I know they would love to have a chocolate brown baby doll like this one. And a vanilla one to match!

This shop features adorable hair accessories for girls, including clips, headbands, and barrettes, and even cutesy legwarmers. Don’t you think Addie and I need matching hair clips? 

I love these customized items! Celebrate fall, Christmas, sports, kids, in these many different items that would add a personal touch for someone special. Check out the page for more options!

How did one website manage to feature so many items that I LOVE at such great prices? I want one of . . . everything! This one is the epitome of my weaknesses. Necklaces, bracelets, earrings, scarves and more for as little as $3. For such a good cause, I refuse to feel guilty about making a serious investment here.  Here are a couple of my favorites:

This store features beautiful fabric crafted items. If you are a local, check out these neat towels! I

If you’re not within a tornado siren of Franklin, you’d still love their other items, including chevron scarves, owl hats, and custom-made shirts for Christmas.

Looking for a perfect baby gift that was made with love rather than by a robot? Check out this sweet Etsy Shop that features baby bibs and bows to suit all tastes. This one is my favorite! 

I hope you all remember this painting from Worth the Wait Creations. The artist took time to get to know our family before putting together this perfect representation of who we are as a new family. Ken said it is his favorite gift ever, and it hangs in our living room. Why would you buy someone a sweater or tie, when you could give something this significant, while making a difference in the life of a Congolese child? The paintings make great wedding and baby gifts as well. 

If you want to sport your support of Congolese adoptions, check out this great shirt, featured on Etsy. Lots of sizes are available! 

Another awesome t-shirt design is featured here! I’m totally digging the pink shirt!  

If you’ve ever been to Africa, chances are that it will always be a part of your heart. These canvases feature variety of bold and subtle prints that help keep Africa in your heart.  There are many more designs to choose from!

These are incredible original stained wood art pieces. Aren’t they beautiful? I look forward to seeing more offerings from them, as they are all stunning!  Check out their site for up-close views.

This Etsy Shop features many different Congolese ornaments and Ugandan bead bracelets. I especially love this!!

This family is having a super fun giveaway! There are four different packages to enter for, but this one is my favorite. It has ME written all over it! Entries are only $5, plus there are many more ways to enter! Yikes this is awesome!

Here is another unique adoption t-shirt, as well as another opportunity to purchase Just Love Coffee!

This shop just opened and items are selling like lightening! Featuring African-themed items, there’s a little bit of something for everyone with a heart for Congo. I love these! 

Every child needs to be taught about families who are built through adoption. This is a book that does just that! 

This Etsy Shop specializes in linens and totes that are trendy and even African-themed. I adore this bag and this blanket!  

This family is selling high-quality sheets (among other things) to support their adoption. Who wouldn’t love a new set of comfy sheets?

This Etsy shop features beautiful embellished t-shirts. I love this one for Christmas! 

I would LOVE to get a locket like this for Christmas. Hint, hint, Ken, ahem. They are so personalized and fun, it would be a great gift for any mom! Create one of your own for yourself or someone special in your life!

This family is featuring an auction that starts this week, and features items that would make great Christmas gifts! They’ve already announced that there will be a diamond necklace, noonday earrings, and doTERRA items. I’ll definitely be checking back on this one!

As you start building your Christmas list, why not buy items that will mean so much to the recipient and to the seller? Each purchase from the above list will encourage, strengthen, and support those in the DRC adoption process. And the recipient will love the hand-touched meaning behind each gift. It’s a win-win.

Not all of us are called to adopt, but we are all called to do something for the sake of the orphans in the world. Here’s my challenge.

Ready?

1. Buy at least one item.

2. Comment on at least one page.

3. Pray for at least one family.

4. Repost on your blog or Facebook page

And I’d love to hear what you bought! Come back and share how you are making a difference in the life of an adoptive family!

Go make a difference!

When I was a little girl, my friend Lynette and I loved the merry-go-round. We would push it as fast as we could, hop on, and spin to our hearts’ content. If we were really fortunate, we would find a high school boy wandering by, and pester him into pushing us faster and faster. We’d lean back and watch the wondrous pattern of the trees spinning in a circle above us with the summer sun glimmering through the leaves as the breeze wisped through our hair. My favorite was jumping off the merry-go-round and trying to walk, or even stand. It was gloriously fun trying to find firm footing on the ground as the world spun around, until slowly, the spinning would come to a stop. Or, if I was feeling particularly adventurous, and a plentiful supply of compliant teens were around, I would hop back on before my equilibrium was reset.

I’m not going to lie. This was a really long year.

If I had only just been sick for 11 months, with $20,000 in treatments for a resistant infection that is triggering my asthma and complicated by an immune deficiency, it would have been a long year.

If I had only had a massive work transition and assumed my boss’s job, a coworker’s job, and retained my former job without anyone to train me on how to do what needs to be done, it would have been a long year.

If I had only adopted a 4 and 5-year-old who turned out to be 6 and 8, had to re-age them, walk through medical testing, IEP testing, EL services, convince them that they had to speak English after months of them only speaking to each other, try to acclimate them to new cultures and ages, help them recover emotionally from the horrific trauma they’ve been through, it would have been a long year.

But in true overachiever style, I have had three long years in one. Everyone in the Jewett house has.

I’ve been asked a lot how I’ve survived this year. There is only one explanation: Jesus. I can literally say that there is no way I could have survived this last year without Him. If I could have done it on my own strength, I might have become proud. Instead, I’ve realized how weak, wicked, and weary I am. Anything good from me has come from Him.

My friends in the drive through at Sonic tease me, “Why you so happy all the time?”

“It’s Jesus in me!” is my reply.

Jesus has been the best part of my year.

There have been other great parts of this year. Some of my favorites:

• The kids’ first bubble baths. More water ended up on the floor than in the tub, but they had a great time.
• Celebrating Palm Sunday with the kids and explaining heaven, to which the kids replied, “Yeah!”
• Addie telling me she loved me as we watched the movie Annie together
• Palmer snuggling with me during movies
• Bonding with Addie over three-hour hair styles
• When I showed Palmer that letters made sounds, sounds made words, and words told stories
• Addie losing her first tooth and trying to implement the “Tooth Angel” without making it seem like a creepy lady was breaking into the house at night
• Palmer winning the Triple A Achiever Award for his school
• Teaching the kids to build forts out of blankets and playing hide and seek
• Grandma teaching the kids how to hula-hoop
• Going to the beach as a family

There have been so many special moments and shared laughter. I hope that the next year will be a little less dramatic, but no matter what, we will face it together as a family, with Jesus.

Yep, her hairstyle lasted 3 days. So I had to change it up tonight. She’s going swimming tomorrow, and I didn’t have the three hours of hair time I needed so I threw her hair into some flat twists and called it a night.

What have I gotten myself into!?

When I last left off, I was diagnosed with two immune problems: too many allergy antibodies, and not enough infection-fighting antibodies. We decided to address the allergy antibodies first and hold off on treating the infection-fighting antibodies. It was made clear by my nurse practitioner that my lack of infection-fighting antibodies is more correlated with stress than most people. The more stress, the fewer antibodies I produce. It is very important for my immune system to reduce stress as much as possible, and I would possibly be able to avoid having antibody infusions or injections.

Stress reduction in order to live. No problem. Especially with two children adopted from Africa in the last year, and a husband who works four nights a week and all day Saturdays and Sundays, in addition to me working full-time. Still, it was manageable.

Then my boss resigned. Not the one that was diagnosed with the brain tumor, the interim boss after that. He’s giving plenty of notice, and is definitely being helpful, but it’s become clear that I need to step up my responsibility at work in a very short period of time. There is no one else in place at this point that can do it. But I’m still pretty sick.

Stress reduction in order to live. Now it’s a problem.

So I went back to my allergist/immunologist physician and did nothing short of beg for IgG antibody replacement. It was really rather pitiful, actually. But in my perspective, I’m somewhat begging for my life and my job, which are both pretty important to me. I cannot stop my children from bringing home viruses and bacteria from school. I cannot quit my job. The only variable is giving a boost to my immune system.

He said no.

Now, in his defense, he has never seen me sick because I only see the NP when I’m sick because he’s booked months in advance. And in his mind, because I was about to get anti-IgE Xolair, he didn’t want to do two immune therapies at once.

He told me, “You just need to work on reducing stress in your life.”

I kind of wanted to punch him in the face. With the love of the Lord. And maybe call down some fire and brimstone. And tear up the $600 bill he’s going to send me for that sound advice. And mail him the pieces.

Too far?

This week, I finally got my first injection of Xolair, which will reduce my ability to have an allergic reaction, although it takes several months to really see the benefits. It’s a two hour process to get the injection and then you have to see a medical provider afterwards, all the while having lots of vitals taken, peak flows measured, and a nurse giving you the stinky fish eye across the room because Xolair has a surprising side effect of causing anaphylaxis. I felt a little yucky and had some blood pressure issues, but I lived.

So three hours after my Xolair injection, I met back up with the NP who has been seeing me. I blabbered on about all I’ve been through, and the changes in my responsibilities that have occurred since we last talked. She believes I should start IgG and wants to start the approval process. She has seen me really really sick. I have scared her on numerous occasions. After all, no one is more stubborn about asking for medical help than a medical provider themselves. She is going to talk to her supervising physician (my doctor) and see if she can get him to change his mind.

Meanwhile, I start my third month of running a fever. I start my seventh month of having a productive cough. I wash my hands even more obsessively than before. I avoid crowded places with coughing people and perfume.

And I wait, stuck in the middle between two medical providers and what they believe will make me well.

I blame the spelling list.

It all started about a month ago with the list of words Palmer brought home for the week, which included “art,” and “farm,” and “barn.”

Rather than just having Palmer write out the words, we’ve tried encouraging him to think through how to spell words. We find that he is very good at thinking through sounds and spelling them. He’s actually much better at spelling than reading. Considering he didn’t even know what a letter was 7 months ago, we are more than pleased.

Sometimes, we throw in similar words to his spelling words to see if he can use the same principles to spell new words.

With words like art and farm, what was the next natural word selection?

Fart!

Sure enough, he spelled it perfectly. We all had a good laugh about that. I am so proud that my son can spell fart.

Today, the issue of flatulence arose again (ahem, Addie), and we revisited the spelling. Sure enough, Palmer can still spell it.

Then I remembered someone telling me about a funny book about a flatulent dog, and I had to find it.

Tonight at bedtime, we introduced the kids to “Walter, the Farting Dog.” What could be more entertaining for a 6 and 8 year old? Palmer laughed so hard, I thought he was going to cry, choke, or pee. Maybe even all three at the same time. This is why I am thankful for my medical training.

We finished the night with some juicy zerberts to the cheek, and again, the kids were in stitches.

My friend, Angie, alerted me on Facebook that there is also a Walter the Farting Dog stuffed animal that makes real farting noises. Nothing says “Easter basket” like candy and a farting dog, don’t you think?

Who knew flatulence could be so fun?

The notice came on Friday: Palmer needs to bring 24 filled eggs to school for an Easter egg hunt this week.

I supposed that this would probably be the best time to introduce the kids to American Easter.

Of course, they already know about Jesus rising from the dead and the Biblical side of Easter, but it’s now time to cover the other side of Easter: the eggs, bunny, basket side of Easter.

I asked the kids if they celebrated Easter in the Congo — when Jesus rose from the dead. Addie said yes. Palmer said no. This is a typical answer to “when you were in the Congo” questions.

I could not send our kids into one of the most important kid-to-kid battles for candy and toys without sufficient preparation and practice. This is a definite early-bird-gets-the-worm skirmish. I had images in my brain of our children standing at an Easter egg hunt, baskets in hand, confused with other kids finding eggs, toys, candy before our kids having any idea what they are to do. This should not happen to our children. We have to make up for all the years of experience their competitors will have!

So today, we set up an Easter egg hunt for them in the back yard, with empty eggs. After all, finding out that Easter eggs contain candy and toys may simply be too much for them to handle at one time. Then we set out the rules:

1. There are 25 eggs in the back yard. There will be zero eggs in the back yard before snack time. Hint hint.

2. Use the bag to your advantage to keep your hands free to pick up more eggs.

3. No pushing, shoving, or stealing of the eggs of siblings.

4. Do not follow another sibling. You will find more eggs if you use your own eyes and hands.

5. The goal is to find the most eggs.

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The kids had a great time. One child was distinctly more strategic and successful. The other sibling may have occasionally forgotten why she went outside. The outside hunt was followed by two in the living room, one in their bedroom, and another one outside.

I then revealed that they were going to be hunting for eggs at school and at church with other children.

Minds. Blown.

They are so excited! It’s fun to introduce American traditions to kids who haven’t had the chance to experience them, and yet are old enough to understand and enjoy what’s going on. Just wait until they find out that there are treasures inside those eggs! I anticipate some serious squeals of joy.

The kids have been trained and are ready. They know the rules. They have strategies. And if at the next Easter egg hunt, you see the Jewett children doing pre-hunt stretches, you’ll know why.

If you read this blog for the crazy kid stories or adoption info, this is not your post. If you know me and have been wondering where in the world I have been, well, this post is for you.

I got sick less than 2 weeks after coming home from Africa. Fevers of 101+ for a couple of weeks. Then the cough started. Then the cough developed into pneumonia. Then I never really recovered from the pneumonia. Then I got strep. Then I couldn’t breathe. I almost got well over Christmas break, but when the new semester started, I started seeing sick patients in the clinic. My kids were coming home from school with the 12 colds/year that most elementary kids have. The fevers came back with a vengeance, which I’ve had for over 2 weeks now. Then I got horrible flu-like symptoms. Then I got strep. Then I got a respiratory fungal infection.  Now I REALLY can’t breathe.

I have not had a single week in which I’ve been well for 6 months. I am on antibiotics, antifungals, steroids, nebulizers, nutritional supplements, and on and on and on. This is particularly vexing because steroids make fungal infections worse, but I cannot breathe without the steroids, which make the fungal infection worse. I cannot breathe well enough to have a conversation. My muscles in my chest and back HURT from trying to breathe. I feel like my face is going to explode. I can feel my pulse in my teeth.

The clinic that has seen this all go down is actually my asthma clinic. They began to wonder in December why I could not get well. Mostly because I was asking them why I couldn’t get well. Not only are they an asthma clinic, they are an immunology clinic, so this was very reasonable for me to ask. I think if you see me sick every 6 months, it’s easy to not hear the “I’ve been sick the entire six months.” My white count is always elevated but never very impressive. I feel worse than my bloodwork looks. Always.

So in December, we started testing out my immune system, and found that though I’m sick a lot, and have had pneumonia a lot, I’m not immune to all but one strain of pneumonia. So they vaccinated me against pneumonia. But meanwhile, my allergy antibodies (IgE) were very high, even in the middle of winter with nothing blooming (yet).

Currently, I am on most classes of medications known to mankind, but I still can’t get well. In the middle of the night last night, I was sleeping on the couch (sitting up) and our dog, Holly, ran in and woke up Ken and brought him to me. I was having trouble breathing. Now unfortunately, she thinks the cure for not breathing is laying on my chest, but she was right about me not breathing. Nor could I quite wake up to realize I was not breathing well. Ken got me a nebulizer and got my lungs going again, but I realized when I am relying on my dog to wake me when I’m not breathing, I may need some additional medical attention. Holly continued pawing at my chest and whining until I called Vanderbilt. And my NPs cell phone.

My NP agreed to see me this afternoon. (Praise the Lord she had given me her cell phone number.) Sure enough, I’m sick and having trouble breathing. After emergency treatment, I am now breathing well enough to still need emergency treatment. The treatment helps, but when my breathing is this bad, my best is still considered an emergency.

She went over my lab results with me, which in hindsight make a lot of sense. I have an IgG (infection fighting antibody) deficiency. I did not mount an immune response to the vaccine I got in December. This is why I cannot get well when I get sick. She noticed a pattern that when I get sick, I don’t just get a little sick. I get really sick, but my white blood cell count doesn’t respond, so it makes it look sorta like I’m not really sick. I just hover at nonwellness for a long time.

The other issue is that my IgE antibodies are elevated, which means my asthma is crazy out of control and my body treats every insult to my lungs like my lungs are trying to kill me. They are actually being fairly successful at that right now.

So we’ve decided to try immunotherapy: suppressing my IgE and giving me IgG. Because my lungs are going to kill me more than the infection, we’re going to do the IgE supression therapy first. I signed over my life today, which is apparently necessary to get this treatment. I just have to wait for insurance to approve it.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

It’s $2000/month, so I really can’t afford to just start it without them approving it. Which usually means a battle waged between a nonmedical provider behind a desk in Watchkatoochie, Wyoming versus the medical staff at Vanderbilt. I’ll still have the $5000 deductible to contend with but being disabled is a whole lot more expensive. Once the deductible is met, then I’ll be able to afford the IgG therapy, if insurance will approve that too. Let’s hope the Watchkatoochians are feeling favorably toward me this time of year.

In the mean time, I’ve switched antibiotics, antifungals, nebulizers, and increased my steroids today. I’m too sick to be in the hospital with a deficient immune system.

So that’s where I am: tucked in bed, with my nebulizer on one side, and my asthma-sniffing dog on the other. I’m thankful for a Nurse Pracitioner who wondered enough why I’m not well to actually do something about it, instead of just scratch her head and wish me well. I’m also thankful that there’s at least a proposed answer and hope that one day I may join the walking and working well again.