WHAT TRUE LOVE LOOKS LIKE

I'd been sick all day. In fact, I'd been sick all week, and all month. Withdrawing cold turkey from fifteen years of valium use was knocking the breath right out of me. I'd never been this sick in my life. When I wasn't in bed I was in the bathroom. I went through three months of this. One morning at 3AM I headed to the bathroom. There, on hands and knees, my husband scrubbed the floor. He said it was the only time he could clean it without disturbing me. Those three months Jay did everything for me. Everything. Even if he had to get up at 3AM to do it.

He continues to love me in that deep and abiding way five years later. Last spring I made the mistake of eating too much fresh pineapple at a wedding in another town. On our way home the next morning my husband and I stopped at a thrift store where I lost all bowel control. I didn't make it to the bathroom in time so I was a mess. My husband insisted on coming into the restroom with me (it was a single stall room) so he could help me get out of my clothes, clean me up, and run to the car to get me a clean outfit. He also rinsed my soiled clothes in the sink. He did all this quickly, efficiently, and without complaint. His biggest concern was that I might be getting sick again, but I assured him it was just the pineapple I ate the night before. 

True love is not always best illustrated by flowers and candlelight, chocolates and poetry.  True love shows up especially brilliantly in illness and adversity.   I'm so blessed to have a husband who does not think it a burden to take care of me. In fact, he considers it a privilege. Perhaps it's because he's almost lost me twice that he holds to me so dearly. Whatever the reason, this anniversary I'm grateful for 23 years with such a man in my life.

Jay & I in August, 2013

OVERCOMING PANIC ATTACKS!

I insisted on walking back to my room after delivering our healthy five pound boy my husband and I would name Enoch Elijah.  His birth consisted of a brief forty-five minutes of hard labor, followed by a very quick delivery.  This live birth, my third, was my fastest delivery yet!  Tabitha arrived in two hours and ten minutes; Melody in just one hour and forty minutes.  Admittedly all three were premature by several weeks, but aside from being low weight they were all healthy babies.  I strode the hospital hallway exhilarated.  Adrenaline, nature’s upper, flooded my post-birth brain, and I could hardly contain my excitement.  An older nurse brought the cleaned up baby to my room, and we began the bonding process.  An hour later that same nurse retrieved him so I could get some sleep.  

Still under the influence of adrenaline, sleep escaped me.  Then a very strange thing happened.  One minute I was joyous, and the next I was blinded by apprehension and dread.  I had a sudden, overwhelming feeling that something terrible was happening with my newborn.  I buzzed the nurses‘ station, and demanded to be told what was going on with the baby.  They reassured me everything was fine, but I didn’t believe it.  How could these feelings of imminent disaster be mistaken?  I paced the room, heart pounding, stomach clenched like a fist.  What weren’t the nurses telling me?  Again I buzzed the nurses‘ station, and they suggested I walk down to the nursery and look into the window.  I grabbed a robe and flew down the hallway only to see a peacefully sleeping baby.  What was wrong with me?  It was very difficult calming myself down even though I knew my son was safe.  My first panic attack roared down on me like an avalanche.   I never forgot those feelings of terrible dread or the physical effects it had on my body; pounding heart, sweating, shortness of breath, muscle tension and stomach upset.

Ten years later, after my first marriage ended in a nasty divorce, I met and became engaged to the man I would spend the rest of my life with.  That’s when panic attacks entered my life again.  During a winter storm my car slid down an icy hill.  A panic attack left me shaking, and unable to drive the car home.  My fiance rescued me, and calmed me down.  On another occasion I left my wallet at a bank, and the man who found it called to say he would bring it to my home.  This triggered a panic attack, and I hid in the closet, unable to answer the door.  Once again I called my fiance who came home to calm me down, and get my wallet from the stranger.  Then there was the day I panicked when I didn’t have time to complete a math test.  (I was a student at the college where my fiance taught at the time.)  This brought on a full blown panic attack, and I couldn’t stop crying.  A friend escorted me to the therapist’s office on campus where he assessed I was in the midst of a panic attack and talked me down.

After a year and a half engagement Jay Van Tassell and I were married, and the panic attacks slowly began increasing in frequency.  I began to notice circumstances which would likely trigger a panic attack; car trips away from home, traveling at night, being in a strange city, getting lost, heavy traffic, any kind of dental work, and nighttime in general.

My husband taught geology at the college.  Geology trips became problematic for me.  Having to sit next to a male student who made me uncomfortable triggered a panic attack.  Car problems on another trip brought on a panic attack.  Increased anxiety at night made sleeping in a tent potentially nightmarish.  Being away from home was the key element of stress in all these situations.

I began to anticipate the potential for panic attacks while traveling, and started using narcotics prescribed for pain to reduce anxiety.  At the advice of a friend who became aware of my increasing problem with panic attacks I went to a local psychiatrist for help.  This professional, instead of helping me find a cognitive solution or offering behavioral therapy, handed me a script for Valium.  I was to take 5 mg at bedtime when needed, and 5mg as needed for panic attacks while traveling or getting dental work.

It didn’t take long for me to develop an addiction to benzodiazepines.  Within a year I didn’t think I could sleep at night without them.  I also didn’t think I could travel, or go on geology trips without them.  And I never went to the dentist without them.  What started as occasional use within a couple of years became a dependency on 5 mg daily, then 10 mg daily, then 15 mg daily, and finally to 20 mg daily.  As I developed a tolerance to Valium I needed more and more to get the same result.  It took ten years to arrive at the point of needing 20 mg a day, but this addictive result was inevitable because I felt as though I could not control panic attacks, or anxiety any other way.  

Toward the end of my addiction I drugged myself the minute I got in the car for a trip, and kept myself drugged. (My husband always drove.)  To have enough Valium for trips I would stop taking my nightly dose of medication for a week.  I became accustomed  to feeling sick when I went without my nightly dose, but I didn’t associate it with the symptoms of withdrawal.  It never dawned on me that I was physically addicted to Valium.  I didn’t think that was even a possibility.  I did, however, recognize the emotional addiction I was cursed with.  

My psychiatrist began recommending I come off of Valium.  I was adamant when I insisted there would be no way I could manage my life without this medication.  I kept telling him I wasn’t addicted, at least not in the physical sense of the word.  He finally turned over my medication management to my primary care physician who was also handling my opiate medications for a chronic pain problem I’d suffered from for many years.  

In 2008 I almost lost my life when I accidentally overdosed on Valium.  (See “MY NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE” on 2/21/13).  Now my physician insisted I discontinue all Valium use, and go through withdrawal.  I gladly agreed because I knew it was only by God’s grace that I survived the Valium overdose.  The first panic attack occurred a year later when I discovered two dear women very close to my heart were sexually abused as children by someone I knew well.  I felt like my insides were going to come out as I wept.  Overwhelmed with fear for them, I experienced the urge to anticipate the worst.  My body shook, and I had trouble breathing.  I felt like I was going to die.

At first all I could think of was the Valium I didn’t have!  How could I live with the crisis created by this panic attack?  I focused on surviving by my own wits.  I rode the wave of emotions, and counted down from ten to one as the severity of my panic diminished.  Although the symptoms of the panic attack were uncomfortable they did not kill me!  I marveled at my mind’s ability to create such a tornado of emotions, and how my body took up the cause and responded in kind with pounding heart, breathing problems, muscle tension, and exhaustion.  I decided next time to reign the mind in, and try to get control of thoughts of dread, danger and worry.  I asked God to show me how to do this.

The very next month I got my answer from God!  I had traveled to Arizona by myself to visit my oldest daughter and her husband.  One morning as I awoke in strange surroundings the beginnings of a panic attack surged through me.  Adrenaline pored into my system filling me with dread.  Oh NO!  Not here!  Not now!  

Then God spoke to me, “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything give thanks.”  

I thought about that verse which I recognized from Philippians, Chapter Four.  I repeated the words, “give thanks”.  God was guiding me.  Give thanks.  I thought about the nice bed I was in, the sunshine poring through the window, the coming day with my healthy and happy daughter, the nourishing food we would eat, and clean water we would drink.  Within seconds I was back in control of my thoughts and my body's response to the temporary adrenaline surge.  The fear dissolved and the panic dissipated!  That was easy! 

Giving thanks proved to be the key to victory over panic attacks.  I had a couple more opportunities that year to put Philippians, Chapter Four into practice, and it worked immediately each time.  I simply had to be aware enough to switch mental gears, and give thanks.

This technic is not always easy to put into practice.  The stronger the panic attack the more difficult the task of changing thought tracks.  One last example of this happened in July of 2012.  Some panic episodes are so strong you even remember the date!  All the triggers were there; traveling in a strange town far from home, in heavy traffic, my husband became lost.  Driving a rental car without GPS, Jay had no idea where our exit was.  By the time we finally found our exit, and our hotel I was a wreck.  Hyperventilating, shaking, heart pounding and feeling like I was going to pass out I jumped out of the car, and began pacing.  I couldn’t get a grip on this run-a-way train so I called my therapist back in Oregon.  

Of all the things she could have said she picked the perfect visual image for me.  “You are NOT in a concentration camp.”, she said firmly.  I gave that statement serious thought.  Here I am safely standing in a hotel parking lot in the United States of America.  I am NOT in a concentration camp!  What else can I be thankful for?  At the advise of my therapist I took a long, hot bath, and contemplated all the things I had to be grateful for, and at the top of the list; NOT being in a concentration camp.  

The panic “switch” flipped off, and I was able to get control of my racing emotions and thoughts with Philippians 4: 6-8:  “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”  In simple words, “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything give thanks.”

Getting victory over panic attacks was that simple for me!  This technic also helps me when sleep evades me.  I did NOT need medication to be victorious over this insidious problem, and most folks don’t.  It’s unfortunate I was sent the unspoken message by a psychiatrist that the only way to handle panic attacks was with a prescription pad.

Benzodiazepines are one of the most highly prescribed class of drug.  Other brand names for this drug are Xanax, Klonopin, Ativan, Ambien and Librium.   There are occasionally times when we need perhaps a few weeks of medicinal help for severe stress or anxiety, but it should NEVER turn into years of use and addiction!

How many years had I been driven mad by negative thinking?  Our minds have the ability to take us places we never want to go.  Run-a-way thoughts have the power to keep sleep away, make us loose our appetite or eat too much, impact our blood pressure, change our heart rate, increase our respirations, etc, etc, etc.  Philippians 4:8 adds, "Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think about such things."    

Are you overwhelmed with panic and worry?  You don't have to be a slave to negative thoughts!  Ask the Lord to remind you of Philippians 4:6-8 whenever your mind races with anxiety!  Carry this verse in your pocket or purse, tape it on your refrigerator, put it in your glove compartment box.  God wants us to live victorious lives!  If this has helped you share it with us.

MY NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE

Do you believe people can come back from the dead?  I never thought much about this question until I had my own Near Death Experience.  

Since the year 2000 I'd become increasingly ill.  This was disheartening since I was only 48 years old at the start of chronic physical problems.  I developed Sjogrens Auto Immune Disorder which, over time, attacked my salivary glands, heart, and lungs.  At the age of 49 I needed open heart surgery for idiopathic pericarditis.  (See February '13 blog, "ABANDONMENT, ANGER AND AN ANGEL")

In 2005, three years later, I was diagnosed with an incurable lung disease.  By October 2008, at 56 years of age, I depended 24 hours a day on supplemental oxygen, and struggled with an addiction to opiates and benzodiazepines.  Due to difficulty breathing Prednisone was prescribed which brought my weight up to over 250 pounds, and necessitated two cataract surgeries.  I was often bed-ridden, and wheel chair dependent.  Severely depressed I slept an average of 16 hours a day.  I'd given up hope of ever being healthy.  I spent a lot of time in doctors offices and in the hospital, but all the doctors could do was try and manage my symptoms.

I became isolated from family because they could not comprehend what I was going through.  I had no friends because I was miserable and depressed.  I made very poor company, and stopped socializing.  I seldom left the house since I had to always have oxygen with me, but mostly my obesity shamed me.  In public people treated me differently as a direct result of my excess weight.  I saw the harsh looks, and heard the unkind comments directed at me.  Before my illness I'd been anorexic for twenty years!  The difference in the way people treated me as a heavy woman was shocking and painful.  Church attendance stopped because I felt as though God had forgotten me.  The only person in my life was my faithful husband who took care of me, but I couldn't even appreciate him.  It was the darkest time in my life, and I felt I would be better off dead.  

Three days before my accidental overdose on Valium it had became necessary to have my remaining teeth extracted due to damage from “dry mouth” associated with Sjogren's Auto Immune Disorder.  This was the straw that broke the camels back, as the old saying goes.  A valium drip was used to sedate me for the surgery, but Post Traumatic Stress kept me from completely going under.  I have absolutely no memory of the gruesome dental surgery, or my fighting the dentist or yelling for him to stop.  My husband witnessed all this, and told me about it later.  I also have no memory of the following three days at home recovering while I self-medicated on my stash of Valium.  Then I overdosed. 

I remember only one moment clearly.  October 23rd at 8:30 in the morning I heard the voice of God say, "Call 911".  I began to argue with the voice because I felt just fine.  I was in a place where there was no light, no sound, no feeling.  Nothing.  But it was a very peaceful place.  Then the voice of God commanded more firmly, "Call 911" and He added the word "NOW".  I don't remember making the phone call, the ambulance attendants taking vitals, or putting me on a gurney and transporting me to the emergency room, or the fiasco that took place at the hospital to save my life.  I remember absolutely nothing but the powerful yet loving voice of God calling me back to life.  It was a profound moment which forever changed me in many ways.

I awoke in intensive care with inhalation pneumonia in both diseased lungs, intubated, and very confused.  When the tube was removed I was unable to speak, or write.  It's like my brain had been "rebooted" and I had to re-learn these things all over again.  After I completely woke up, and the intubation tubes were removed, and I had stabilized enough to be moved out of intensive care into a regular room, I knew the only reason I was alive was because God had literally called me back to life.  If I had not called 911 early that morning my husband would have found me dead that evening when he got home from work.  I knew I should (and perhaps did) die, but God protected me and brought me back!  I was ecstatic!  I felt God’s love in the most profound way, and I couldn't stop talking about Him or giving Him praise.  

While in the hospital, on top of my positive mental attitude and spiritual awakening, I quickly discovered I had NO PAIN anywhere in my body.  I'd been taking opiates for 20 years for chronic back pain.  Pain was part of my everyday life.  AND I'd just had all my teeth removed; yet I felt NO back pain, or mouth pain in spite of a mouth full of sutures.  When my primary care physician suggested I be taken off all Valium, and most of the opiates I readily agreed because I was "healed".  That's what popped out of my mouth. “I’m healed!”  I had no idea what I'd been healed from, but I "knew" my body was different, and God was totally responsible.  Seven days later I was released from the hospital to recover from inhalation pneumonia, and begin withdrawal from three different drugs.

For three months I was desperately sick from withdrawal symptoms, and didn't leave my bed except to use the bathroom.  I lost 50 pounds.  As horrific a time this was for me physically I was filled with joy, and happiness, and peace.  God was in that room with me; encouraging me, teaching me, and showering me with love.  I heard God's voice giving me instructions as to how I was to live my life from that time on.  In what I'm sure must be record time the pneumonia disappeared.  Remember, when I contracted double pneumonia I had diseased lungs which didn't work properly.  The fact that my lungs healed in just 3 months is incredible!   But much more was happening to my body.  Six months after my overdose I stopped using supplemental oxygen during the day, and by the eighth month I stopped using oxygen altogether.  All my Sjogren's symptoms completely disappeared!  My mouth, which hadn't produced saliva in over 15 years became moist.  My eyes became moist as well.  

By the time the worst of the withdrawal symptoms disappeared (just three months) my back pain slowly returned, but it was completely manageable now with a minimum of medication.  I've had individuals tell me it took them over a year to withdraw from the amount of Valium I'd been taking.  Over a year!  And I was feeling normal in just three months!  I also asked my physician if there was any possible natural explanation for the three months of no back pain while I was going through withdrawal.  She shook her head no, and added she’d never heard of anyone who didn’t have INCREASED pain during the first months of withdrawal from opiates.  She said there was absolutely no explanation for my lack of pain.  This was just another incredible miracle!  

On the one year anniversary of the overdose my physician could find NO disease in my lungs.  It was as though I'd never had a lung disease, much less an incurable one.  There was no residual lung damage.  She was astounded!  So was my pulmonolgist when she saw me.  Both doctors told me that this sort of thing NEVER happens, and that there was no explanation.  Also, the auto immune disease Sjogrens disappeared as well.  I was more healthy then I'd been in over 15 years.  I knew I'd been healed physically by God.

During that same year many other changes began happening to my body, mind and spirit; increased sense of smell, more tolerant and accepting of other’s beliefs, less controlling and less obsessive behaviors, “evangelistic” about telling others about God's love, less materialistic, a better listener, cured of bi-polar disorder and chronic depression!  In my life before the overdose I seldom read a book; now I’m an AVID reader, and “consume” four or more books a month.  I've read the entire Bible three times!  My 22 year marriage is profoundly stronger then I even knew was possible!  And I continue to be in excellent health.   These are some of the changes that have transpired in the last almost six years.  I give God the glory!   

I didn't understand what was happening to me until I began to read about “Near Death Experiences”, and the profound effects of such an experience.  (Read my blog, "The Fascinating Subject Of Near Death Experiences" in June, '13)  My spirit confirmed that the close call with death during my Valium overdose was a Near Death Experience.  

On October 23, 2014 it will be six years since my NDE.  My life will never be the same. Praise God!  This has created nothing but positive changes in my life, and marriage.  My husband, who never believed in a personal God, now believes in a God who loves and cares for us because of the miracles he's seen in my body, mind, and spirit.  We are involved in a spirit-filled Four Square Gospel church, and I LIVE MY FAITH!  I speak of my experience whenever I'm given the opportunity.  The message I want to communicate with anyone who will listen is that God loves us beyond measure.  Jesus' love is the ultimate answer to any problem.  We can trust our Heavenly Father and His Son with our lives!  No matter how dark things may seem in our lives, God is there with us!

This photo was taken of me one year before my Near-Death Experience.

  This photo was taken two months after my overdose while still on oxygen.

This was taken one year after my Near-Death Experience with my adult children!