Today We Give Thanks

This year it feels like we have gone from tragedy to tragedy to tragedy, to blessing to blessing to blessing. And we have seen our friends and family experience the same ups and downs. But oh, those blessings! How sweet they are. We thought Covid had doomed our livelihood, and through a series of small and big blessings we have persevered. Patrick's health has been a roller coaster and yet he is still here! The nail-biting, heart-aching situations he has been through this last year with his health have seen us through to this moment - our strong marriage, and appreciation for every breath. We lost my dad in December, but feel surrounded by his presence through gifts he gave me over the years and rare photos of him that I leave on display. The memories I hold of him will keep me smiling when thoughts of him pop up unexpectedly. But through everything that has happened our faith remains strong. Opportunities opened for us that likely would have stayed closed, had we not gone through hardship. In us we found strength we didn't know we possessed. We watched devotion for the wellbeing of our small family be brought to the forefront of our consciousness by forces outside our control. Blessings? I don't hesitate to call them miracles. 2020 may not have been the ideal year, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. Early isolation and quarantine built a stamina and self-preservation I didn't know was possible. Patrick's health crises reinforced my belief that hidden deep within me is a woman defined not by struggle but by overcoming those struggles. And various darts coming at us from all angles proved how resilient as a pair Patrick and I truly are. We are strong. We are timeless. We give thanks today for our family and friends who have seen us through this perilous year. We give thanks today for a God who has never once left our side. And we give thanks for the people we have become, and the blessings we will find in our future. Lots of love, Patrick & Haley

Medication Changes & An Update

I haven't posted an update in a while because while we have had our ups and downs, not a lot has changed. Patrick is still what his doctor describes as an anomaly - performing life's tasks in a manner that defies his low heart numbers, and the overall awful shape it's in. Patrick and his doctors discussed first coming off the arrhythmia medicine that he was put on. He was on this one because the first, big medication he was hospitalized for and put on in December hadn't been as effective as we had hoped. But since the ablation in May Patrick had been doing better than ever. It took a few weeks but eventually talk began of taking him off the big med. This was a big step, and one that caused me a lot of anxiety. Patrick isn't one to sit by and let the doctors make all the decisions. He wants some of that control and let's his team know when he has an opinion. Sometimes I sarcastically call him Dr. Patrick to remind him he wasn't the one who went to school for a decade to learn about the heart. That's one thing we wives are definitely good for - keeping our spouse's feet on solid ground. He has been off the big med, Tikosyn, for several weeks now. While I can't say there have been no episodes of arrhythmia, I can say he hasn't had any bad enough that he had to be shocked by his defibrillator. Also, since our last update he has 1) swallowed a plastic fork tine, 2) developed and passed two kidney stones, 3) pulled a muscle in his back that needed OMM care to heal, 4) developed an ulcer, and 5) endured a vertigo episode so bad that we both thought he was dying (they suspect a mini-stroke but without the ability to do an MRI because of his pacemaker, the doctors are giving us their best guess... ) I'm sure there is more. I just can't think of them right now. I often say, with Patrick, if it's not one thing, it's another. Also, Patrick is not on the transplant list. We thought they were putting him on it but one doctor has told us that is not a decision to rush into. Patrick may need it soon, but for now he is doing so well on his anomalous heart that pushing for a transplant isn't reasonable. We would still like to see him on the list at a low priority, but for now we will take what we can get. There is talk about putting him back on Tikosyn because the ablation didn't fix every problem. We'll see what happens over the next few months. I think most Christian's are familiar with the adage that God takes broken things and makes them Beautiful. Also, everything God does, he does, he does for the greater good. All things happen for a reason. Patrick is broken, but God is not done with him yet. Too much good flows from his hands. Too much laughter is caused by his words. Too much love radiates from his ramshackle heart. God is not done with Patrick, and Patrick is not done with life. His doctor said there are people with higher ejection fractions than Patrick's, who can't get out of bed. Patrick refuses to live like he has heart failure. His body is healthy, even if his heart is beat up, bruised, with one leg and broken arms, propped up inside his chest with a crutch while smiling wearily at us. But he will not quit. There is too much life to live, and Patrick doesn't want to miss it. Like I said, God is not done with him yet.

Bump-bump. Bump-bump. Bump-bump.

I'm sharing a photo from our drive to Valdez two years ago. Every year we choose somewhere in Alaska to visit with a road trip. Well, we have only been to Valdez and Homer, with a quick day trip to Seward for the Aquatic Center. But still, I look forward to it every year. We couldn't go last year because we moved into our new house and had too much going on. And this year we simply didn't want to dip into our savings amidst this Covid-19 mess to fund the trip. So now we have had two years in a row where we couldn't do our family road trip. I miss it. But we are still living through our blessings! I wanted to give you guys an update on how Patrick is doing since his Ablation two months ago. When he came home he quarantined for two weeks, but he was a busy bee here at the house. The very next day he worked outside in our yard and felt the burning in his heart. It was extremely uncomfortable and we both worried that he had worked too hard, too soon. So he slowed it down and took it easy for the next week. A difference that Patrick began to notice right away was the lack of "heartsick" that he felt on a daily basis. No matter what he was doing he always felt like there was something wrong with his heart. With such an important organ, you know when something isn't quite right with it. His sensation of something being wrong made him feel sick all the time. After the procedure that feeling was no longer there. And when the burning sensation finally went away, Patrick began pushing the limits of what his heart could do. For years he has been told by cardiologists that if there is an activity he can do that gets his heart rate up and he is willing to do that activity, go for it. So many patients with heart failure are the exact opposite - they WANT to ride a bike but can't. They WANT to hike with their kids but can't. They WANT physical intimacy but can't. They WANT to be able to work in their own yard but can't. In Patrick's case he had largely been able to live a normal life, within limits. For instance, we stay on the road system when we explore Alaska. If there is an emergency we don't want to risk being out of contact range, or have to wait to be Medivaced out of the wilderness. And Patrick still hasn't been on the Slingshot at the fair, and acknowledges that it will probably never happen (and you know I would be buying that video so you guys could watch him scream!) But I always tell people you would never know Patrick has heart failure. His energy level is ridiculously high. He has a zest for life that most people wouldn't understand. That's what happens when you feel like you're living on borrowed time; when you can say you're dying a little bit faster than everyone else. It's also why I call him a walking miracle. Guys, I SAW the x-ray fifteen years ago that showed a heart double the size of what it should be. I've seen Patrick walk through conversations about Quality Of Life with grace. I signed his living will. I received texts and voicemails the time when he thought he was dying and my phone was on silent. This man's every breath is a miracle. His heart is still diseased; still dying; still enlarged. But the ablation has given Patrick a quality of life we could only dream of before. He can play with our kids and not get tired like he did before. He can push a lawn mower for a friend for an hour, and then come home and do the same in our yard. He can go go go from the time he wakes up to when he goes to bed at night, and without complaining or getting weary. Last night he asked me to listen to his heart. I knew what he expected to hear because they are things I have said to him in the past. "You're heart is going bump-bump-bump." "I'm hearing missed or skipped beats." "It doesn't sound right at all." So last night I listened. And I listened. And I listened. I put my ear to his chest and closed my eyes, and I felt tears form. Bump-bump. Bump-bump. Bump-bump. That's all I heard. Nothing funny. Nothing off. Nothing that shouldn't be there, or anything missing that should have been. And I told him the truth. "It's perfect." "Really?" "Mm-hm." There's always that unsaid, "... for now..." but we don't say it out loud. Because we count our blessings and focus on living now. Living thankful today, and glad Patrick has been given a new lease on life.