Fading In, Fading Out

*Continuance of “My Story” starting with Blog #1: When your life flashes before your eyes in a flood gate of memories…

Before we get into this blog I’d like to take a moment to say, PLEASE read this blog post with an open mind set of there is a bigger picture going on here than just reading about the pain/suffering.  What I mean is that God was using this all to bring about so many amazing things, and in the midst of this going on, I knew and trusted that.  So please, bear with me while I tell my story more specifically about the bigger picture throughout the next blog posts to come.

Picking up from our last blog A Close Call… How was I going to endure another excruciating round of pain?

I resumed the fetal position on my left side.  Pain seared through my abdomen with an intensity that was worse than earlier.  I would have welcomed death at this point if I truly WANTED to die.  My whole body burned with hot pain, especially my abdomen and back.  It was a FIRE that seared from the deepest most inner part of my core.  It took my breathe away.  I attempted to breathe but at times I couldn’t.  I couldn’t move.  Any movement was like a lightening bolt.

All of a sudden the pain stopped.  My stomach had an upset feeling.  I realized, I need to get to the bathroom.  Then came another pain in my abdomen that burned.  I have to get to the bathroom right now!  I was NOT going to mess myself!  “I need to get to the bathroom Mom.” I said.

Mom helped me upright on the couch and up to my feet.  We hobbled to the bathroom.  I stooped over, favoring my left side, attempting to bring relief.  The pain grabbed me with such a vengeance I doubled over onto the floor, crying now for real, but stopped because that made the pain worse.  Mom cried for me, holding my head in her lap and trying to touch my abdomen.  Again, like before, I threw her hand away.

“NO!  It hurts.”  I muttered.  Exhausted, I tried to concentrate.  The pain.  I hurt.  Help, Papa.

“I’m sorry, Kelly.”  Mom said, sobbing.

For the next half an hour I struggled through lightening bolts of red hot abdominal pains and hot and cold sweats, all leaving me weak.  I was so nauseated.  At times the bathroom would spin.  My eyes closed because the light hurt them.  And then, my eyes rolled to the back of my head through closed eye lids.  I fought for control.

Pains ripped through my abdomen.  I tried to move in an attempt to escape it all.  I’d arch my back trying to get relief, unsuccessfully.  Moving made the pain worse.  My energy is fading.  I couldn’t breathe when the pains raked through me.  My head felt like it was going to explode.  Sweat dripped off my forehead, my chest, and down my back. My stomach felt like it was in my throat.  I was fading in and out of consciousness.

I lifted my abdomen in a fetal attempt to get away from the pain.  I didn’t have any energy to move.  I tried to hold my gut.  I COULDN’T hold it due to the raging fire going on inside.

At times I could hear, and then it would be dead silent.  I fought for control to stay conscious.  It took all of my focus to be present.  I reeled trying to squirm from myself. Help! was my only prayer.  I had no energy.  Exhausted didn’t begin to define what I felt. My abdomen hurt like never before in my life.  I fought to stay present and focused.  I’m spinning.  The room is spinning.  I just want to be done with all this pain.

End of Spring 2017 231.JPG

While fading in and out of consciousness I’d been completely unaware that Mom was praying out loud.  I remember my eyes rolling to the back of my head.  I was oblivious to what was happening around me.  I was fading fast.

One last red-hot electrical shock of pain seared through me.  I yelled out, arching my body trying to free myself.  My head is going to burst.  I tried to open my eyes in a last attempt to stay conscious.  I opened them, but all I saw was the color gray.  I closed my eyes.  I couldn’t hear anything.

Peace.  Quiet.  I had no oxygen left in me.  There was utter silence.  I felt, heard, and saw nothing.  I was present in the gray.  I’d lost consciousness, for a brief time.  Somewhere deep inside my brain, I was still fighting for life and I was somehow aware of that.  My body knew, even in my unconscious state, that I wasn’t giving in to death.

Suddenly, I could hear.  Sobs were coming from Mom, whom was still holding my head in her lap.  I took a BIG breath.  I can BREATHE!  The intense pain had stopped In its place, a very achy abdomen.  My low back felt like it was going to burst, and a few small cramps grabbed at my abdomen, but I was able to breathe through them while letting them pass.

Twenty minutes later, all the cramps and surging hot pains were gone.  I could breathe normal again.  I could see clearly!  A headache was still present.  I could hear it pound. My clothes were wet.  My body was drenched in sweat.  The abdominal pain was back to its normal dull and achy deep inside the inner most part of my being.  My low back pain was terrible, so  I tried cracking my back, which helped release some of the pain when it cracked.  I was thirsty.  I need water!  My whole being was totally exhausted.  I was ready to sleep.  I felt like I could sleep right there on the bathroom floor rug.

I need to get up and drink some water.  Slowly I sat up, which caused the bathroom to spin as I leaned against the vanity.  It took a few minutes before I was unsteadily standing, then took a few steps, paused, and walked out of the bathroom into the kitchen.

I sat at the kitchen counter drinking the glass of water that Mom gave me.  She sat down next to me.  “Do you still think you got sick from the supplements, Kelly?” she inquired.

“Yes, without a doubt in my mind.  The supplements ARE doing their job, which is a GOOD thing.”

“I think your body is detoxing too fast.”  Mom said.  “The supplements are grabbing the toxins, causing the die-off efects.  However, your body and organs can’t keep up quickly enough to move them out.  Those toxins REALLY need to get out of your body.”

“I agree.  My body couldn’t keep up with it.  I’m not going to take any of the supplements the rest of today or tomorrow, but I will the next day.  That way my body can have a little break to recover.”  I said matter of factly.

“I’m so glad to hear that.  I was hoping that you weren’t going to quit taking them altogether.”  Mom smiled.

“No.  I’m going to keep taking them.  I need to get this body detoxified so I can heal and move forward with my life.” I said.

I continued to sip my water and think.  I was gone.  Like, really gone.  God, you brought me back.  You have bigger and better things in store for my life.  You have brought me out from the deepest, hardest, and most painful experience.  You are and have always been paving the way for me.  I get it.  I DO trust you, Papa.  You have not only saved me once, but you’ve saved me twice.  My life is truly in your hands, and I’m eternally grateful.  I’m a living miracle.

 I opened my mouth, telling Mom all of what had just happened.  She listened, intently…

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