The Day God Gave Me A Different Life

Sometimes in life, we evolve slowly and who we become seems like a slow and long process. Other times, who we become happens so quickly that it's burned in our mind and we never forget the moment, or few moments when God makes it very clear to us that our life would be different than what we expected.

Whether its through a sudden illness, addiction, depression, death, financial loss, or all of the above, we can be clear on one thing: The life we knew was over, forever changed by a simple moment, or in my case, a simple change in chemistry in the brain. Today, I wanted to write about the day that God gave me a different life.

On January of 2010, I was shopping for a computer. I had started an internet marketing company and I needed a laptop I could take to meet clients. So I was on the hunt. Then my financial advisor persuaded me to try a mac. I had been leaning in that direction so immediately after our meeting, I called my husband. 

“Meet me at the Apple store, you're going to be jealous.”

I went to the Apple store, fell in love, and with my husband there I said, 

“This is the happiest day of my life!” Isaac looked at me slightly puzzled.

“Oh yes, and our wedding. That was great too.”

Relief, joy and a new adventure awaited me. I had my new mac. Life was good. But as we were checking out I started feeling very shaky. Nothing new. 

I just needed food- which has always been my solution for most problems in my life- and 90% of the time, it worked.

So Isaac and I picked up the kids and headed to Wendy's. I felt totally tired and weak, but if I could just get a frosty- everything would be fine.

As we were going through the drive though, my legs began to feel completely unattached to my body. Then my torso, then my arms, and last my head and neck.

“Wake up!” I thought, “Your frosty is going to melt.” But even with that panic, I couldn’t wake up. Then all of the sudden, I didn’t want to wake up. Not even for a frosty, and that’s when I knew, I was in trouble.

“Honey. Honey. Here is your food.” My husband urged me to wake up. “Oh poor thing, she must be so tired.”

I was totally conscious but unable to move. Panic started setting in and I couldn’t tell anyone. My chest began to tighten and it was nearly impossible to swallow. As our van pulled into the garage, all the kids started pilling out of the car. They would bump me on accident, and I couldn’t move.

“Honey. Come on. Let’s get out. Can I help you?” my husband urged me.

I didn’t answer.

“Honey! Oh my gosh! Kids get back in the car, we are going to the hospital!' My husband is yelling. He never yells. 

 All 4 kids started screaming. Suddenly my ability to talk came back.

“I need sugar.” Was all I could say.

“Sugar you got it!’ Isaac said. “Kids, get out of the car and go inside. Go get candy!!”

We realized very quickly that we should have had a family home evening around “What to do if Mom gets stuck in the car ”, because it was sheer chaos.

Then Isaac darted out of the car to call my mother who is a diabetic. By now he was in a complete panic.

My mom, who lived 400 miles away starts panicking too. “ I think her sugars must have dropped. That’s what it sounds like. Give her juice as fast as you can!”

My husband runs into the house and comes back with juice. I am partially able to move enough to talk. He lifts my head and starts pouring juice down my throat.

“ Common honey come on!! Just get to some juice and then we will take you to the hospital.”

After one cup, he goes back in the house for more juice. I am starting to wake up more, but I can’t move my arms and legs. In the mean time, my sweet 10 year old runs out to the car with a dum dum sucker, unwraps it and sticks it in my mouth.

“Here mom!"

Then my 7 year old, trying to help, runs out with tootsie roll, unwraps it and sticks in my mouth. 

By now, I am trying not to choke as my 6 year old runs out and sticks a hard candy in my mouth.

So like an obsessed, compulsive eater at a carnival, I sat with candy in my mouth, praying I don’t choke to death, but unable to have the strength to spit it out.

Then my hubby comes back, pulls the candy out, orders the kids back in the car and starts pouring more apple juice down my throat.

Suddenly, movement starts coming back. I look at my husband and I started crying.

“That was so scary!” I said. He started crying too.

“Let’s go to the hospital,” he said.  

Well, our insurance had a high deductible, so I told him that I was fine. He was not convinced. I just wanted to sleep. He talked me into going to the local drug store so he could pick up a test thing for my sugars.

In the mean time, we bought a large soda to keep my sugars up. I thought I was going to puke but knew that I had to do it. So I did. And every time I felt like sleeping, I would shove sugar down my throat.

My sugars came back low. We thought we had it down. I explained to my kids that mommy is not going to die, and that even though it looks scary, I feel totally fine, and I can hear them, but I just cant move.

“Ohhh, so like your not really hurting, it just looks like it?” my 7 year old asked.

“Exactly!” I said with the most comfort I can. “ I understand you're scared, but mommy is not hurting. I just need sugar.”

“Sweet. We’ll, Im just glad your safe.”

“Totally.” I told them. But in my head I was thinking, “and that was just plain freaky.”

 But I still made an appointment with the Dr. for the following Monday, just to keep everyone from worrying too much. I tried not to stress because I had a back up- Google.  See, here's the deal,  I looked it up on Google, and I was pretty sure I had hypoglycemia. The Google Doctor is in----and it was dead wrong!

The following Monday, the Doctor  came into the room and asked me what happened. By then I was totally better so I nonchalantly explained that I had this attack and now I feel fine. I thought he would treat me like a hypochondriac but instead he just listened. Then I told him I was pretty sure I was hypoglycemic cause I looked it up on Google and I seem to have the symptoms, but that my sugar keeps coming back normal, which is really frustrating. Then I went on about how maybe I’m a diabetic because it runs in my family, but hey, I’m self employed and I really don’t have time to be a diabetic.

“ Do you run your own business?” he asked

“Yes. And sometimes it’s really hard, but I love it!” I said

Looking back, my Doctor deserves to win  “the nicest Dr. in the world award” for listening to me go on and on about what Google thinks I have. And he never rolled his eyes.

“Well, stress can bring on sickness, but I don’t think it caused this. I can do a test to see if your sugars are little off.”

Oh dang.

So he did, and in 5 minutes he had the results.

“Your sugars are normal. That’s good. Your not diabetic or hypoglycemic.” He said.

 And I’m sure he wanted to say , “Let that be a lesson to all. Google is not a substitute for doctor appointments.” But he didn’t. I admired him for his self-control.

“Great!! Cause I really don’t have time to be diabetic… Oh well."

“Well, I’ll run some tests and see if you are lacking in some vitamins. In the mean time, I’m thinking you may need to see a neurologist.”

“Ummm… I really am fine.,” I said.

But I really wanted to say, “ Oh no, Dr. Chipman, I think you might be over reacting. Thanks for caring- you're wrong.” 

I think he read my mind because he backtracked.  That‘s always a little awkward.

“Okay, we’ll run these tests first and then if nothing comes back really off, I think you need to see a neurologist. Do you need one of my staff members to drive you home?”

I was touched by his kindness but wanted to say, “Dude, I’m little quirky, not dead.”

Little did I know, my Doctor knew exactly what he was talking about.  So I drove myself home. He even encouraged me to stop and eat on the way home, just incase it helped.

“Great idea,” I said.

And I drove straight home, never stopping to eat.

This may sound weird, but I have learned something from this…. I‘m an idiot.

So I called back after 2 days only to find that all the test came back normal except for my thyroid being a little off.

Great, adjust my thyroid and lets keep going!

I never went back in, and just kept trying to get my business up and running. I would get super tired, but tell myself kind things like, “Don’t be a lazy butt. You can do this. Everyone gets tired. Build a bridge and get over it.”

Ya know, all the stuff that really keeps you going.

Then a few weeks later, my denial came crashing down in the funniest way. It seems like God is always trying to send me answers to my problems but He can't get through, unless there is serious drama attached. And so He worked his miracle.

I was in church. I held a leadership position over the kids in my congregation, and so I attended a meeting that morning on how to be a better leader. I woke up feeling great. Put on my pencil skirt that goes to my knees, my red leather boots, and my pin striped blouse.  I sat in the meeting, thinking of everything I needed to do. After the meeting was over, I went to the chapel where the congregation gathers. I found my husband sitting a few rows back with all four of our kids. He looked like he was about ready to pray to be invisible as my two year old climbed all over him.

I sat next to him. “Thank you for getting the kids ready and bringing them.” I said. “and you look like a hottie.”

“Thanks.." he said in the nicest voice he could with clinched teeth as my two year old jumped from the pew onto his lap.

“He is driving me crazy,” my husband started telling me. All the sudden the same feeling of numbness came over me.

Tears poured down my cheeks.

“It’s happening again. Isaac something is wrong. Get me out of here.”

“Okay no problem, c'mon honey.” Suddenly the kids could have been shaving each others heads and picking their noses. Nothing mattered.

He tried to help me up. I couldn’t move. I collapsed. But here’s the best part.

My husband propped me up on the seat and moved my head on his shoulder.

“It’s okay sweetie. I know you’ll come out of it.” He tried so hard to comfort me.

Then the church music began.

“Oh crap.” Was all I could think. And the tears kept coming down uncontrollably.

Ten minutes passed, and my husband even took the sacrament with my head propped up against his shoulder. I couldn't move my head, but I was able to open my eyes for a few seconds here and there. The little boy passing the sacrament looked at him like, “Dude, what did you do to your wife?”

I gained enough movement to whisper, “Isaac, I'm in trouble, get me out of here.”

“I'm going to pick you up and carry you.”

Now I was flattered by his “knight and shining armor” idea, but the reality is this:

 I’m 5’8 and 145 .lbs of complete dead weight. I had visions of him picking me up and dropping me in the middle of the floor, pencil skirt flown above my head. That might be a little awkward.

"Oh heaven help me.” I thought., but “Noooo” was all I could whisper. 

Then I went completely paralyzed, unable to talk. 

"Okay, I'll have some guys helps me." 

I can't explain why I would have rather died in the pew than have these 4 men help carry me out. It must be a girl thing, or a Jodi thing. But I couldn't move and I couldn't argue. 

 And so they did. Four men carried me out. One in the back and one with each leg up. I felt like I was perfectly positioned to have an obgyn appointment in the middle of church.

 Thank the heavens, I couldn’t see anyone’s faces. It’s moments like that, when all my superficial barriers came tumbling down. Time to get real.

So I am hauled off to another room where a Doctor and 3 nurses from the congregation came rushing out to help. They called 911. My bra was pulled up to my chin, with my shirt still covering it.

“If I could move, I would pull my bra down for sure.” I thought.

First, a sternum rub.. “ Jodi! Jodi!” a nurse and dear friend of mine said. “ Come on! Can you hear me? Jodi….”

I wanted to say, “Yes, I can hear you and please stop doing that.” But I couldn’t answer. My husband jumped in.

"She can feel everything but she can't answer! This has happened before but never like this. Then she’ll wake up and be totally fine. We thought it was her sugar….” My husband is in shock and spinning. 

“She is stiffing so tight.” The nurse said. Her vitals are fine but her heart rate is a little weak. I’m nervous. We need help here quickly.”

I could hear everything but I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t move and now there were 5 or 6 of my friends gathered around me, while my bra sat comfortably 3 inches above my chest  covered by white blouse.

“Yep, this sucks.” was all I could think.

The ambulance arrived, and did the whole sternum rub, and by now, I started praying,

“Heavenly Father please give me movement for one moment so I can slap this man who thinks I can’t feel anything.”  Nothing happened.

Suddenly,  I opened my eyes, everyone stopped.

“Oh great she coming out of it.! Jodi! Jodi are you okay?” My friend asked.

 “Holy sh*t..” was all I could whisper. 

 I couldn’t believe I cussed! I don’t cuss! I was mortified. 

 Everyone started laughing.

“OOPS, sorry,” was all I could say and out I went.

“Way to leave a legacy!” I thought to myself.  I hope this isn’t an indication of what I utter on my death bed. I hope I’m more profound than that. Oh well.

When I arrived at the Emergency room I had woken up quit a few times. I felt weak but okay. The Doctor came in and asked me to move my legs.

“Give me a second and I will, “ I reassured him. “Everything feels really heavy, like I have weights on me, but it will go away.”

After 3 minutes, it was as if I had been risen from the dead. I lifted my arms and hand with ease.

“See. I told you!  Weird huh? Can I go home?” I asked, in a “I'm going home anyways” sort of a tone.

The Doctor laughed. “I am totally perplexed as to what this can be. I think you need to see a neurologist.”

Suddenly, I began to doubt myself. What if I’m crazy or I'm loosing it, and my body is shutting down to keep myself from breaking down?

Shyly I asked the him,  “Is there any chance this could be like “in my head”? “

“Umm.. no.” he said in a matter of fact way. “ I’ve seen lots of patience who are having psychological break downs and your reaction is not consistent with theirs.”

I went home and that’s when the cataplexy had finally set it.  On that day, my life changed dramatically.

With every emotion, I would go paralyzed. I became awesomely aware of how vast our emotions are. I became aware of how quickly our lives can change and how fast we can be moving in one direction and then hit a wall. Within a few weeks, I was diagnosed. It would be months before I had my medication. And it has taken years for my family and I to adjust to this new life with cataplexy and narcolepsy as our companion. In a matter of days I went from:

Complete independence to a walker/wheelchair

Being an active mom, to a mom who felt like a house decoration that talks. 

Being a leader at my church to sleeping in the hallway at church.

Going from a 6 figure income to near bankruptcy

Dreaming of being a millionaire to dreaming of being able to work again.

But the message was clear. God was giving me a new life. It was not the one I wanted, or dreamed of. It would take a long time for me to accept it, and to learn how to find joy in it. But I had faith that the  Savior atoned for me. That He could carry this burden. That He could heal my children, and comfort their loss. And over the years, I have come to understand that when God hands us a new life, it can be much better than what we ever dreamed. And even if it's not what we wanted, it can be flawless and exactly what we need. 

  

Parenting From My Bed

It had been three weeks since I was carried out of church like a dead deer. It had been three weeks since I had cussed in front of everyone I had grown to respect and love, just before going back into my "fake"coma.  I had a lot to reflect about.
I couldn't shower myself. I couldn't do my hair. I couldn't hardly get dressed. All my cloths were business professional. Somewhere in my closet, we found old yoga pants and a t-shirt that I had from years back. I had an a-line hair cut that I could no longer take care of.

I was one hot mama.

But in all my reflections of the past 3 weeks, something haunted me more than being paralyzed. More than being in a wheelchair. More than not being able to work......

How was I going to be a mom?

My stomach turned with anxiety. I prayed.  Okay, praying is an understatement. I cried. I cried heavily to God. And even though my intense crying caused my body to go cataplectic- I kept on talking to Him.

Because as I laid there, trapped in my broken body, and surrounded by so much unknown, I was clear about one thing....  God could hear me.

I begged Him. I wanted Him to heal me. I asked Him questions.

How can I be a good mom?  How can I teach my kids?

Then I made my "case" with my list of cant's.

I can't hold them. I can't run with them in the yard. I can't do their hair, or see them off to school each day. I can't help my 2 year old son get a snack or bathe.

I felt sad. I felt confused. I felt ashamed.

And then I felt the only thing I had left.... Faith.

In the past weeks, I had gone through this cycle over and over. Sad, Confused, Ashamed, FAITH.

Having all these emotions at once was new to me, and sometimes, I would cycle between all of the emotions within minutes, multiple times a day.

And then my oldest daughter, Joselyn came to visit me. She sat at the end of my bed. She looked at me. I held her hand. I began to cry.

And then my body fell asleep.

Dang it!!

I wanted to comfort her!  I was her mother!!

I wanted to tell her that everything was going to be okay. That I was going to be okay.  I wanted to tell her that I would be better soon. That I would be the mother she needed.

 But I couldn't.

 It felt impossible. How could I hold her when it made me crumble into her arms?

After a few minutes,  I woke up and looked into her big brown eyes. Her straight blonde hair was pulled back into a simple pony tail. Another reminder that she was doing her own hair.

I felt the shame, but she interrupted my thoughts.

"Mom.. can I tell you something?"

I looked at her and faintly smiled, secretly afraid that my heart would burst in pain.

" I thought I knew you before...." She looked at me carefully. She placed her small little hand on mine. " But I feel like I really know you now."

I was stunned.

"What do you mean sweetheart?" I asked as my heart leaped and fear began to leave.

"We were always so busy before. But now, when I come into your room, you're  here." Her eyes filled up with emotion.  "You're not on the phone or in a meeting. I can come and talk to you."

Then she laughed. "Even if you go out (code for "fall asleep") , I know you can hear me!"

 A new emotion came into my heart. One I hadn't felt for what seemed like forever.   HOPE.

My body fell asleep.

But this time, it didn't bother me.

Because I could HEAR her.

She sat with me. She held my hand. She told me about her day. And as I laid there with my eyes closed, limp and unable to respond, I realized that for today, I was enough.

Because for today, Joselyn needed a Mom who could listen, and I could do that.

She didn't need a mom who could run outside, or do her hair, or look super cute in her fancy cloths. She needed a listening ear.

She needed me.

And I was enough. My HOPE turned into JOY.

Maybe God heard me after all.

I have added in this portion. I often write questions to help me answer so I can sort through my pain, or the emotions that keep me paralyzed. I hope this helps someone. 

Reflection:

What is one thing that I can do today that I am not recognizing?

What is the impact of that one skill?

Do I have faith that God can provide for their other needs?

The Story About a Mom who Failed

The story about a mom who failed 

I want to tell you a story about a mom who failed. She failed at so many things that she was brought to believe, in her darkest moments, that her very existence was a hinderance to her family. Now before you stop and think, “This is mom is nuts, I am glad I am not her.” or worse, “ I don't want to read this, its too sad.” I would persuade you to stay a little while longer. This story has a happy beginning. 

This mom wasn't sad because she wanted to be more involved with her kids. This mom wasn't able to participate in her kids lives. She wasn't sad because she wanted to cook better dinners. This mom couldn't cook dinners at all. And she wasn’t sad because she wished she could be better at maintaining the house, or doing the laundry. She wasn't doing any of it, much less, wanting to improve. This mom was barely able to touch her children. She could hardly withstand the emotions as she listened to their excited voices when they came home from school, which only made her more incompetent and more distant. This mom was me. 

IT was January 2010, and I was the perfect mom and wife, or pretty darn close. (At least that's the past "fantasy" that I like to tell myself). After a year and half, I had just lost 45 lbs and was at my ideal weight. I had a great job working from home, where I perfectly balanced my home life, my church life, and my work life. (or so I thought). And I had just decided to start my own company two month prior. I was cute, I was strong, and I was living my dream. We lived in a small town, with kind people and great neighbors. I really believed that I had deserved this great life.  I had a core belief that I had had enough trials in my life, and that I deserved a break. And I was living that ‘break’ right now.  A few weeks prior, my husband and I talked about how great our life was, our marriage, our kids. We had a vision board. We both worked from home (for different companies) and we ate lunch together every day. We were living the dream. OR at least the dream we thought we wanted. 

And then IT happened. IT was awkward, and would turn my world and my family's world upside down. IT had snuck in slowly and then by storm. And when IT hit, everything changed, and it changed fast. 

IT started when I was sitting in church and I turned to my husband. “IT is happening again. I cant feel my legs.” Slowly the sensation moved up my body and over my head. The weight that filled my being was beyond description. My body felt like it was in a Coma, and I never wanted to wake up. I was completely conscious and could hear everything around me, but I couldn't see and I couldn't move. Part of my brain was completely comfortable, and the other part, was completely freaking out. One side was soothing me “ Awww this feels so nice. I am so relaxed.” While the other side of my brain was screaming “ Jodi, this is not good!! Jodi, try to move! Come on Jodi!!!!! Your family is freaking out!! Just TRY!!”  But despite the panic in my brain, I couldn't move. 

I could hear and I could understand but I couldn't move. 

And that is when my life truly started to change. It was that moment, when I realized that I am not exempt. Not only am I not exempt, but that life was not always about life and death. Sometimes it's about life and suffering.  And then life, and then a different life, and then a totally new life. And if you are lucky, as I have been, a better life. After weeks of Dr. visits, and months of being “in the hallway” of life, I was diagnosed with a sleeping disorder called Cataplexy with Narcolepsy. I had sudden onset cataplexy.  A disease where my body confuses emotions with dreaming, and in order to protect myself, my brain paralyzes my entire body, just like I am sleeping in the middle of the night. The only catch, my brain is still awake, but my body is asleep. When I have an episode, I can hear and process everything, but I can't move.  

I remember the initial excitement when I found out! “Oh my gosh! I'm not going to die!!” I hugged my husband and my mom. We wept. I went paralyzed. And then immediately the thought followed, “How am I going live?” This wasn't a question about survival, it was about impact. 

I have always believed that I was going to make an impact on the world. Not in a small way, but in a big way. And now, I had no idea how that would happen. 

How was I ever going to be a good mom? A good wife? A good person when I could barely feel emotions without falling to the ground? 

It's been a long 5 years with lots of ups and downs. And I would love to share my story about how I manage my great family with 6 kids, a full time job, and a butt kicking disease. I am hoping that by writing this blog, flawless moms, I can share with you the coping tools I use to strategically plan my emotions each day and cope with life on life's terms. I am not an expert. But I am a mom. A mom who believes that life is meant to be enjoyed, not suffered through. A mom who relies heavily on her Savior, her friends, her family, and her husband to help her see that life is bigger than the trials that challenge us everyday. That we are more than our suffering. We are more than our daily failures. And with the healing power of the atonement, and the healing power of love and forgiveness, we can rise above our struggles and have those moments when we see our life for what it really is, and realize that perhaps when this is all over, we are exactly who we are suppose to be, with all of our imperfections and short comings.... we are flawless.