“My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” – Psalm 73:26
Today marks two years since the end of my battle with the unknown. From 2021 to 2023, I went through hell. In November of 2021, I had an awful pain in my side, blood in my urine, yellow skin and eyes, liver numbers extremely high, and no one could identify what was wrong. At one point, I had my blood drawn 20 times in one month, and diagnostic tests were done, non-stop. I felt like I was dying.
I had a trip coming up to Asheville, NC, that weekend, and asked my doctor if I could go. I was supposed to do some recording for Symmetry, the company I work with, and I didn’t want to disappoint them. With hesitation, my doctor agreed to let me go. While I was on my layover in Atlanta, I got a direct call from my doctor. She said she had gotten some blood work back and was really concerned. My liver numbers were through the roof. She told me to go to Asheville, do my recording, but to get back home ASAP, as I was considered emergent. If I got worse, I needed to go to the hospital.
I made it to Asheville, did the recording, but as soon as we walked into our Airbnb, I was so sick. I could barely stand up. I laid down in bed and shook from the excruciating pain. I tried to turn on a movie to watch with my husband, but I couldn’t sit without pain and nausea, I was very yellow, and I knew I needed help. I told Mike to change the flight to the first one home in the morning. I refused to go into the hospital, because I didn’t want to die away from my children. We had just lost a friend from COVID who was away from his family, and I didn’t want to die without a chance to say goodbye to my girls.
That night was the worst night of my entire life. My body felt like fire all around on the inside, I talked to my doctor every hour until 10 pm. I felt sheer panic as it was hard to breathe with the pain. As I lay on the Airbnb bed, Mike straddled me, looked me in the eyes, and said, “You are going to be ok,” But his eyes showed fear. The man that I knew to be my rock, my safety in our home, was afraid.
As we lay in bed together, all I could do was recite Proverbs 3:5-6: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding, in all thy ways acknowledge him and he will direct thy path straight.” I said it over and over again, as fast as I could, until I was asleep. When I woke, the pain and nausea were still there, the panic was still there, and so I started repeating the verse again. Over and over again, on the plane, all the way directly to the clinic. There, they took me back to a room and immediately put me on an IV as I was severely dehydrated. It was then that my doctor shared with me that I had Hepatitis A. My specific results lined up with some other patients in some other clinics and hospitals that had gone through COVID-19 with similar symptoms. She asked if it was all right for her to share my data for a case study. I agreed. They think it was a triggered reaction from a shot that I had after COVID. I was under nonstop care for 6 months, then eventually, I made a turn for the better, and my liver numbers started to go back to normal.
When my liver numbers went down, I was still in a lot of side pain, and we couldn’t figure out what was going on again. I had many trips to the ER again, with temperatures of 103-104 and pain that took my breath away. Why was this happening to me? I had more CT scans and blood tests, and they still came up with no definitive answers. I ended up in the ER, not sure what I would find, cancer? Fortunately, I had my husband, Mike, by my side and a friend who ran the ER department. I knew I was in good hands, but my faith was sparse. I commented to my friend that “if God could heal me…” As soon as those words left my lips, I regretted saying them. It was a verbal account showing my lack of faith, and here I was, a Women’s ministry leader, music leader, and Bible studying individual, doubting in front of my friend. I was deeply saddened by my own words, letting myself down, and feeling I let God down.
After a CT scan, I left the hospital with no answers to the pain I was in. After ultrasounds of my kidneys, liver, and pancreas, I was told by my doctor to get a Hyda Scan to have a closer look at my liver and gallbladder, even though the ultrasound didn’t show anything. So after what seemed like a long wait, my doctor placed an urgent order to get the scan, and I was in the next day. While going through the scan where they injected a dye to look to see if everything was working correctly, I just kept praying that God would give me some answers and take this all away.
He gave me those answers. We found out that after everything I went through, part of my gallbladder had stopped working, which was why I was fevering and in pain. I had to have surgery. By the next week, I was on the table getting prepped for gallbladder surgery and answering questions about what I was allergic to. I knew a couple of medications, but I had no idea, as I have rarely had to take medicine in my entire life. They notated and put me under. When I woke up, I remember being in the post-op room and not feeling very well. I just wanted to go back to sleep. They took me off the assisted oxygen and asked me to try to sit up. With help, they moved me to a wheelchair and took me to the bathroom, where they wanted me to go, as this was a sign I was ready to go home. I was in the bathroom alone, and I remember not doing well and pulling the little string to ask for help. A nurse rushed in and moved me to a wheelchair, and within minutes, I was back in bed, and they were giving me oxygen. My blood pressure dropped, and they had to get me stable. Apparently, I had a bad reaction to the anesthesia. All I remember was the surgeon coming over and asking me if I wanted to go to a room, and I said yes. He told the nurse to tell Mike that things didn’t go as expected, and that they were going to get me a room until I was stable. There, I came in and out of consciousness for 7 hours. Every little bit, they checked my vitals. After 7 hours, I could breathe on my own and then wheeled out to the truck to go home.
The following week, I had a check-in appointment with my doctor. I told her that I was feeling better, but still felt off. She said it could take up to 12-13 weeks for me to heal since my body had already been through a lot. When 13 weeks approached, I was still in pain on my side.
At this point in my journey, I had developed a solid relationship with God. I was reading and studying specifically Romans 4, having a faith like Abraham. I was learning to trust God through my trials and to have hope. A few close friends knew what was going on and visited with me and prayed with me, but when I was alone, I opened up to God, expressing that my faith was weak and that I wanted him to make me strong.
One late night, I finally got it. I knew what caused me to lack faith. I was trying to hold on to something that was never mine to begin with. My life. I was doing everything to stay alive. Afraid that death would be the end of it all. I was hanging on to my life instead of my Salvation. The gift of eternal life with Him. With sobbing tears, I gave my life to God that night. ALL OF MY LIFE. I told Him that whatever was His will, I would humbly bow before Him and accept it. There was nothing else I could do; there was nothing I could have done in any of it. I was helpless, and He is my strength. Every night through those 3 years, I fell asleep holding Mike’s hand. Worried that I wouldn’t wake up, but this night, I rested. I truly rested, knowing that no matter in life or death, I would be ok and my family would be ok.
Sometime after this, still in pain, my doctor suggested that I get a colonoscopy; after all, that was the only place left that I hadn’t had a test done. Lucky me. I asked her if she thought it was cancer. She just told me to trust her and get the test done. She wouldn’t say her thoughts, which I am glad she didn’t. I left without a worry, as I told God, I was ready for what he had for me. Then, as I was driving through the back roads, past my favorite maple trees, a feeling came over me that God would heal me completely. I had no idea what that meant, but it was something I was to keep private until it was time to share. So I remained quiet.
The time came for me to have my colonoscopy, and after the procedure, I was told that they found a tiny ulcer in my ileum. Knowing my history of not using any medications, the only explanation was Crohn’s. So there that very hour, April 27, 2023, I was told I had a mild case of Crohn’s. I was given a medication to help heal the ulcer. After 9 months of using the medication and altering my diet, I went into remission. I am no longer in pain, and I am no longer on the medication for Crohn’s. I currently keep it in remission with a healthy diet that fits me and my situation.
It wasn’t until a year later that I shared my story with people in a sermon and then on social media. Most people, including the people with whom I ran my business, didn’t know what was going on. I was afraid to worry my friends and family, so I remained silent. Only a few knew my struggles. But I wasn’t alone. God was with me and strengthened my faith. I am forever grateful.
As of now, I am in full remission and living a full and healthy life. My life is forever changed.
