My trip, post 1

I can't believe that I've been back home almost 6 weeks and have yet to blog about it. When I got back home, I kinda hit the ground running - I got home about 10:30 at night, and the very next morning had to be back at work (I'd already missed 6 days of inservice). That following Monday, school started! I had Labor Day off, though! ha!
Just so you know, if you're reading this, I'm not going to talk about WHERE I've been in order to protect the innocent. I'll figure out how to post some pictures, though. There will be some that I can't post simply for the protection of those in the pictures.

My trip was an incredible experience. I'm still processing through it all. I've told several people that I'm not sure I went for any OUTward reason because God did so much INside of me. The trip began rather badly -- a week before I left, we had been in Austin. On the way home, we were rear-ended while getting through San Angelo (about 2 1/2 hours away from home). We were at a stop light; the guy in front of us let off his brake but wasn't getting going very fast; Malcolm took his foot off the brake, and then all of a sudden a big Dodge truck hit us from behind. We happened to be in our little old Altima because the Explorer was at home with a transmission problem we had yet to get fixed. We didn't think the wreck was all that bad at first. I do remember my vision seeming to 'shake' a little while I was sitting in the car (while we were waiting for the police), but I just kind of figured it was adrenaline. As we were on the way home again I began to feel pretty icky - the next day was worse. My chiropractor's office was closed (Friday afternoon) so I had Malcolm take me to a clinic. The doctor there prescribed me some muscle relaxers and a 6-day pack of steroids to attempt to heal up the muscles before I left the country. We got the steroid pack on Monday, and by Wednesday afternoon I knew that I was having a severe reaction to them. It was horrible. I still hurt from my neck down, and then I couldn't sleep, would have chills, and felt very anxious. I kept chalking it up to the huge trip I was about to take, but I finally called the clinic and the doc told me to stop the steroids immediately. Thursday I got in to see another chiropractor - he helped, but was just a little rougher than my regular doc. I came home and began to have such severe chills, we ended up calling the after hours service and talked to my regular chiropractor. He offered to meet me at the office if needed, but we never did do that. Let's just say I didn't rest well that night. Friday morning I left for KC. I was met by great friends and was able to walk around with them and enjoy their company, but was in a lot of pain and in a little bit of a fog. I just kept trying to 'keep on keeping on'. Trying the whole 'mind over matter' thing. Way early Saturday morning we headed to the airport for our long flights. Our original 1 flight to Newark was cancelled and we had to split up the group and fly 2 flights to get there before heading on the very long one around the globe. I happened to have a window seat on all 3 flights, which did not work in my favor. I felt more and more claustrophobic, and just began to feel worse and worse. I couldn't seem to drink enough water. But, I just kept thinking, I can do this, I can do this. When we got on the huge plane for the longest leg of our journey, I was excited at first, and then began to physically plummet. When I would finally get so uncomfortable that I would climb over the guys in my row to go to the bathroom, I oddly felt better in the bathroom in the light. Knowing I was going to have to get back in my seat almost made me want to cry! After trying to get my mind off of me through 2 movies and some reading, singing to myself (quietly, thank you), listening to music, I knew that I could no longer deny that I needed help. I was getting rather dizzy; I was in pretty extreme pain in my neck and lower back and had taken probably more Ibuprofen then I should; felt like I couldn't eat or drink anything else without throwing it up. I had been traveling the whole day with two other ladies - one that I had met before and knew slightly, one that I had met just that morning - so I decided to get up once more and go ask them if they would pray with me. I thought I was at my lowest point.... little did I know it was about to get worse. Apparently, I needed more humbling.
I got over to where my team was (I had not been seated near them..) and kinda knelt down beside them and asked them to pray for me. Somehow with some conversation, they ended up leading me to an aisle behind a group of chairs where people could stretch their legs. I laid down flat on my back, except that I couldn't lay both legs straight at the same time - it just hurt my lower back too much. Thankfully, I had 'just happened' to grab a kitchen wash rag from my house right as we were leaving for the airport Friday morning in case I needed to get it wet to keep my nausea down. That thing became a life saver. We got that thing nice and cool, but I still just continued to feel worse and worse. I finally told my friends that I just didn't think I could get back up. This is when I finally started to cry some. I asked for water and one lady went to ask for some. The next thing I heard was the intercom coming on and the stewardess ask if there was a doctor or nurse on board for them to hit their help button. Part of me was horrified to cause that trouble, the other part was relieved. I had to admit that this was more than I could take care of by myself. Lots of stuff happened after that - let me just recap it for you: a Chinese doctor was on board (we still weren't sure by the end if the good doctor was a he or she, and I really don't care- ha) who came and was of great help. My blood pressure was 90/44, I was very dehydrated, and was told to not take any more Ibuprofen for awhile. I had to have an oxygen mask on for awhile (I almost freaked out when they first put it on me, but told my claustrophobic self to calm down and then REALLY enjoyed it - I'd like one for Christmas...). They ended up finding a place for me to lay down. The good doctor had me take 2 Aleve, they gave me a huge bottle of water, and I slept for most of the rest of the flight, getting up a few times for the bathroom. It was quite the affair. I had to totally rely on people I didn't know and who didn't know me. This was extremely difficult for me. I didn't realize how independent and proud I had become! I kept trying to not be embarrassed. At one point (try to picture this), I had the red wet rag around my neck, the oxygen mask on my face (you know, the yellow cup thing that would fall from above in case of a drop in air pressure), with my arm over the shoulder of a steward (his name was Andy; I at least got his name...), and a stewardess following closely behind with a hand on my back (I didn't get her name, oops), being led through chairs and aisles to the place for me to lay down. My pride was definitely humbled. No telling what my hair looked like. I know my make-up was gone. :) Continental airlines has a report of sorts filed on this whole event. They even called into their headquarters in Arizona to consult an airline doctor. Did you know there was such a person? When we landed at our destination, they called for a wheelchair that took so long to come, I ended up walking (more like shuffling, ha!) quite a ways before the chair came to me. One team member was allowed to walk with me while someone from the airport pushed me around. It was kind of nice, because we got through customs very quickly. :) As we went through the airport, I began to have the terrible chills again. So picture me again - I was in a wheelchair going rather fast through the airport late at night with my trusty wet rag around my neck, with my soft green blanky wrapped around me and the bag that was on my lap. To top it all off, while we were waiting for the rest of the team at baggage claim, my well-meaning friend gave me another Aleve to take (the wheelchair ride was a tad bumpy and very uncomfortable). Right after I swallowed it down, I knew it wasn't going all the way. I said, "I'm gonna throw up!" and looked to the restroom lots of feet away. My friend 'just happened' to have put a vomit bag in her bag and she fished it out just in time. That was again humiliating. I thought it was bad enough being wheeled through the airport; now I was vomiting at baggage claim. And, to make it worse, because it was mostly water, it began to seep out of the baggie through my friend's fingers. Niiiiiiiice. The wheelchair pusher produced another baggie that I then filled. Loooovelyyyyy. I had the thought, okay, how much lower am I gonna get.... Somehow I made it through the city and into the hotel and up to my room and into bed. I honestly don't remember all of it. I know we rode a tram and then a taxi. I remember sitting in the lobby and praying and discussing the next day. I remember getting into the room and somehow getting ready for bed. I remember waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of someone out in the hallway screaming for help and hitting the wall or door or something. (Welcome to the city!!) By the way, nothing like that guy screaming happened again....
All I have to say is that the few stewards that 'dealt' with me did a great job. The good doctor was extremely caring. My friends made me feel loved and cared for. It was definitely one of the hardest things I've been through. So many thoughts went through my head, and I missed my family terribly. I really wasn't sure what was going to happen in the hours to come, and I began to seriously wonder why I had come on this trip. I had to eat a lot of humble pie and let people care for me and do things for me that I would normally do for myself.
The only thing that kept me going through most of that 24 hour journey was the prayers and songs I kept singing in my head. Two songs that seemed to stick out the most were "Our God is Greater" ("our God is Healer, awesome in power") and "My All in All" ("You are my strength when I am weak"). I begged God for healing, knowing that if He saw fit, He could touch my body and instantly heal me. I'll discuss some of this part of the journey in a later post.....

A few things I learned that day:
I believe there are no such things as 'just happened to' or coincidences.
I probably shouldn't take steroids EVER AGAIN.
I was on a team that lived out being the hands and feet of Christ.
I probably shouldn't take gel caplet pain pills.
I'll remember that when my urine is cloudy, that means I'm getting dehydrated (I can't believe I didn't remember this - I only tell my campers to look for that every year...).
I really like pure oxygen.
I should always take a wash rag with me on trips.
I don't need to get a window seat on airplanes anymore.
Wheelchair rides aren't always that comfortable - push with care.
It's okay to ask for help, and do it before it's too serious of a problem.

By the way, in case you were wondering, I did end up throwing the wash rag away before I left for home. :) It's time had come to an end. RIP, wash rag. Thanks for all of your help.