The Emotional Roller-Coaster Continues

I’m trying to trust.

I’m trying to rest in the promises of Christ.

But the fatigue I’ve been battling lately gives away the fact that my emotions have been struggling to do so. Or maybe it’s just battle-weariness and to be expected. I don’t know.

It’s hard to be a parent and “know in your gut” that something isn’t right with one of your children, yet be unable to pin-point it or figure it out so that you can fix it.

Annie was “released” from CHOC – “There are no further tests to be done. She doesn’t seem to have CF.” That was GREAT news to us. Yet as we left the hospital that day, while waiting for Earl, I noticed her color was pale again and she just looked “different”/tired. I can’t really describe it. But sure enough, the next day while doing school, she kept sinking further and further into the couch. When I asked her how she was doing and if she felt ok, she always answered, “fine”.

Does this look like the picture of “fine”?


I finally took her temperature and she had a low-grade fever (101). I gave her some Advil and had her read and rest on her bed. I fully thought she’d fall asleep, but she didn’t. Was this the beginning of the flu? I couldn’t tell. But by evening, she was fine – no fever – and was bouncing around with the others.

Thursday morning she said she felt fine and had no fever. She seemed a little tired maybe, but better than the day before. However, as we went to PE and I watched her during the class (I coach her class and we were doing soccer), she just wasn’t “on her game”. She fully participated but didn’t have the assertiveness that she normally has and she lacked that shine to her eyes. She looked like she didn’t feel well . . . that she was tired . . . her color was pale . . . but every time I tried to get information on how she DID feel, she’d say, “fine”. (You have NO IDEA how I’ve come to dread the word “fine”. I don’t know what to do with it. The visual and the verbal just don’t match up for me and the result is either incredible frustration or hopelessness . . . both of which I must fight.) By the time we got home, she was yawning, but had no fever. I had her in bed at the normal time.

Friday dawned with a normal temperature as well. Though she was yawning right after breakfast. We headed out for the morning for our Academy Day in Irvine. She seemed less perky than normal and her color still looked pale, but again, she was “fine” and there weren’t any real symptoms to treat. I gave her a protein smoothie before we left but she couldn’t finish it. When we got home though, about 1:30, I took her temperature and it was 102.0. Sigh. I had her rest on her bed, but decided to not give her any Advil and see what her temperature would do. Would it just go away on it’s own? However, by 3:30 pm it was up to 103.2. So, I put her in the bath, changed her into pjs and gave her some Advil, and sent her to read in bed. And guess what? By 6pm she was fine. Really FINE. No fever. Ate two pieces of pizza and bounced around with the others. I just don’t get it!

Am I over-reacting? Making something out of nothing? It doesn’t feel like it. Why doesn’t anything show up in all the tests we’ve had done? What are we to do next? These are the questions that swirl around in my head during my waking hours in addition to constantly making mental notes of how she “appears” and comparing and contrasting with 2 hours ago or with yesterday, etc.

I need wisdom to know how to balance living in the moment and fulfilling my responsibilities and yet trusting my Lord with the future. I can only deal with what is in front of me. And I can certainly trust my Lord to lead us in the direction we need to go – He has proven Himself faithful over and over again! He never promised me that my life would be pain-free, but He certainly promised to strengthen me for it and to be near me throughout it.

Yesterday, as our family was doing some painting, we were listening to an old Wayne Watson album and this line shouted out to me – “I’d rather walk in the dark with Jesus than in the light alone.” My whole being shouted, yes! Yet, the “darkness” is not dark to Him . . . only to me. He knows where we are going.

So, I begin this Sunday not knowing what the day will hold, anymore than I’ve known what any other day will hold. But I trust that my Lord knows where we are going. So, step by step, I will follow Him, come what may – laughter or tears, or both. (May God grant me the strength I lack!)

P.S. My sister has contacted a doctor she knows at Hoag Hospital who has agreed to look over Annie’s history and her test results and give us his opinion. So, our next step will be to send him our information.


Jamie said…
Oh, Jan, I was so sad to read your update on Annie! Sounds like you are doing all you can do for now. Praying much peace as you wait!
Oh, goodness, tears well up in me reading this, as you know how I can totally relate! It's all about trusting and looking to see what He IS doing despite all the other unknowns about the health of a child. That's what I've been trying to focus on this past week.
Praying for you when you come to mind. I know how wearying and tiring the struggle is for a parent. Love & hugs!

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