Category Archives: Disease

Beach Bums No More

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IMG_4053Not a day goes by that I’m not grateful to live near Lake Michigan. Even on days when I don’t go to the beach, I can smell the lake’s fresh water and hear the music of its waves.

And with beach rocks all over the house (around clocks, picture frames, mirrors, and on door mats), my thoughts are never far from the shore. All my neighbors feel the same.

1951Mary, Tom, and I grew up spending summers on this same shoreline (left: 1951) and raised our collective brood of 17 children here. But the most authentic beach bums in the whole family have always been Mary and me.

Neither of our husbands enjoyed baking in the sun, and both were glad they didn’t have to — since Mary and I had each other to do that. Despite too much sun exposure (and the dermatologist bills to prove it), the gains have more than outweighed the losses.

Mary and I moved through 70 summers side-by-side, but then my beach buddy got terminal cancer. God graciously gave us one last summer together, though, before he carried her to heaven.

M & M.During that time we both understood that we wouldn’t be sitting on the sand together much longer, and Mary wanted to talk about it. The soothing sound of the waves made those difficult conversations easier as we faced the reality of what was just ahead.

And then… how well I remember the moment she let me know her beach days were over. Though it came as a shock, she did it gently. It was probably just as hard for her to say, as it was for me to hear.

We’d been to the beach the day before, and on this perfect weather-day we’d agreed to go again, around 2:00 PM. I drove the few blocks to her cottage to pick her up, since riding bikes was no longer an option. But when I got there, she was seated in a chair on the lawn, dressed in regular clothes.

“You know,” she said, “I think I’m going to skip the beach today. Is that OK with you? I’ve been thinking about taking a nap instead.” Not once in all the years had Mary every turned down an invitation to go to the beach.

We locked eyes and in that instant we both knew what she had just said – our beach-buddy days were over. “Sure, that’s fine,” I said, with a heavy ache growing inside. “A nap sounds like a good idea.”

I sat down next to her in the yard, and we talked for a few more minutes. She chose the topic: her own funeral. She’d always been a realist, and her practical side was eager to sort out the details.

After 20 minutes or so, she stood up slowly and said, “Well… I’m pretty tired, so I think I’ll go lie down for a little. Greet the beach for me!”

But the beach didn’t factor into my afternoon either. It would have been no fun at all without my beach buddy. Instead I just went home and cried.

(…to be continued.)

“Cast your burden on the Lord, and he will sustain you.” (Psalm 55:22)

Newlywed Love (#107)

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October 8-10, 1970

M and BMary’s due date, October 7, had come and gone without a baby. Though she was realistic, I wondered if something might be wrong. “Nothing to worry about,” she said. “In a week or two we’ll be holding him or her in our arms.” I decided to take her word for it, as an experienced nurse.

Meanwhile life continued for Nate and me as he poured himself into the last semester of law school and I played with 5-year-olds all day. In the month or so since school began, I’d made two new friends, Lynn and Barbara — both teachers. Once in a while we began seeing each other outside of school hours.

Lynn was a student-wife like me, living in Champaign with her new husband, and Barbara lived in Danville with hers. When our first PTA evening of the year came on October 8, Barbara invited both Lynn and I to her home after school – so we wouldn’t have to drive our 80 miles twice in one day.

The three of us put our feet up for a while and shared dinner at McDonald’s before returning to school for the long evening with parents. By the time I pulled in at home, it was almost 11:00 PM — but walking in to Nate’s hugs and kisses was the best possible end to a long day.

That night, however, I had trouble sleeping. My hands, face, and neck began to itch something fierce, and in the light of day I saw why. There were little dots everywhere, thousands of them, and each one had a white center. It was the strangest rash I’d ever seen.

Nate was concerned. “Are you allergic to anything?”

“Not that I know of,” I said.

“I think we better see a doctor,” he said. “And you probably shouldn’t go to school, since it might be contagious.”

Sumac conesI called in sick, and we headed for the Carle Clinic. The doctor took one look and said, “Have you been in the woods lately?”

“Well,” I said, “we did go to Allerton Park and there are woods there, but we didn’t really go into them.”

“Did you pick any plants while you were there?” And of course we had.

Unbeknownst to us, the sumac leaves and cones we’d collected were famous for causing rashes, and I had fooled around with them most of the day. The doctor explained. “Sumac poisoning is like poison oak or poison ivy but actually can be even worse.

The leaves, cones, roots… all of it has an oily resin on it that irritates skin. Once you touch it, anyplace else you touch with the resin still on your fingers can get ‘poisoned’ too. That’s why it’s on your face and forearms.”

More of Allerton.

He gave me a salve to coat the rash and said I should be looking better in a few days. That worked well with the long Columbus Day weekend just ahead.

Though I had to take a sick day, I felt just fine, so I talked Nate into a quick study break…

…at Allerton Park.

“Beloved, I pray that all may go well with you and that you may be in good health.” (3 John 1:2)

Newlywed Love (#31)

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February 11, 1970

About this time, Nate had a very rough night that culminated in a severe migraine headache. I had no idea what a migraine was until I watched him suffer through one. His agony was intense, and the only thing that helped was a darkened room with a cool cloth over his forehead and even covering his eyes.

MigrainesHe told me he had suffered through several migraines during high school, but nearly a decade had passed without a single one. Hoping they had just been part of bodily changes from boyhood to manhood, he figured he’d seen his last one.

But there he was, stricken with the worst one he’d ever known, flat on his back and unable to sleep, eat, or even have a conversation. He certainly couldn’t cope with going to classes.

As his “helpmeet,” I felt helpless. Other than to re-soak his face cloth for him, there was little else I could do. And so I sat on the edge of the bed and prayed, longing for God to make him feel better.

Just before it was time for me to go to work, he vomited, and then fell into a deep sleep. His last words before drifting off were, “You go ahead. The worst is over.”

The migraineI penned a quick note and left for school, tremendously worried about my young husband. What had caused this awful attack? Had I done anything to bring it on? And how could we prevent it from ever happening again?

When I returned home later, he was dressed and sitting at the table, bent over his law books. He said he felt drained but that the headache had been completely gone when he’d woken from his morning sleep.

We had a long talk about what might have brought it on and came to no conclusions. He reassured me over and over that it had nothing to do with me. “Since migraines are most likely caused by intense stress,” he said, “then having you alongside me could only help, not hurt.”

We wondered aloud if he should drop one of his classes or quit his job at H & R Block. Feeling fine again, though, he said he didn’t want to do that unless there were more migraines.  I admired his willingness to work so hard, especially since meeting his goals was as much for me as it was for him. But his bottom line was, “Let’s just see what happens.”

And so we prayed together about it, asking God to relieve Nate’s pressure and to keep future migraines away. In the mean time, I had one more question for Nate. “Do you think having some extra sex might increase the odds of never having another headache?”

He smiled his most handsome smile and said, “Well, why don’t we find out?”

And I was so glad to have him back again.

“The Lord has comforted his people and will have compassion on them in their suffering.” (Isaiah 49:13)