Busy

It seems like this whole blogging thing worked better when I was new here - and when I didn't really have any friends or commitments outside of my church. These days, well, I miss writing, but I just don't have the kind of time I once did to mull over things, let alone write them down. Church responsibilities have grown, I've picked up a few wider church duties and acquired a social life, and music has been calling my name again. I don't need this space for reflection the way I once did, and that feels like a good thing. The downside, of course, is that my posting has become less frequent and less interesting.

It's about to get even less frequent. On Sunday, I leave for a week at camp. I'll be home Saturday night, preach Sunday morning, preach at an installation service in the afternoon, do laundry, pack, and fly to Washington, D.C. on Monday morning for a conference for young women preachers. Somewhere in the planning of all of this, I apparently thought myself the Bionic Woman. Anyway, I won't be here for a while, just so you know.

A Few Things I Have to Say About Funerals

Mostly, what I have to say is about the things that it took me a while to learn.

First I should say that the funeral part of being a pastor sort of whacked me in the face at the beginning. During my three years of seminary, I had exactly one hour of education about funerals, and it was in that This Is The Reformed Funeral style quite popular in seminary, which gives one a simple, idealistic sort of picture of what it's like to plan and preside over a funeral. At the time, I had attended perhaps two funerals in my life, and for some reason, I absorbed more about the liturgy than I did about what it felt like to grieve, and what I really needed when someone I loved had died.

I came to this church, my first church, in the midst of a rash of deaths. Multiple friends died in the months before I came here. When I arrived, people I barely knew, but whose pastor I suddenly was, died. Meanwhile, more friends and relatives around the country died, and those were funerals I couldn't attend. There was just so much death...and my way of dealing with that was to try to control it, or at least to control the way it was recognized when I was presiding. I tried to own it, as though keeping a firm hand over the funerals I performed would make me feel better about my inability to stop the deaths of all those other people.

Death has slowed down a bit in my life, thanks be to God, and I like to think that I've gained a little better perspective on death, which I clearly cannot control. Funerals are still an inevitable part of my life, and thankfully, I experience them differently these days. Having done one yesterday, I've been thinking about a few things I've learned in the last two and a half years (which I probably should have known before that, and which, had I known them, would have saved some people from some significant pain).

- Funerals are not about me. I have a particular role in them, but I am not the primary person the funeral is for or about.
- It's an honor to be allowed to be in the role of the minister in funerals. The rituals of saying good-bye are sacred ground.
- Saying good-bye is really hard, and it's a truly horrible thing for someone who's been allowed into that minister role to make it even harder.

As for the person who passed away this week, it still hasn't quite set in that he's gone.

Yada yada yada

So, you know that whole being caught up with sleep thing? Yeah. Note to self: it ends if you just return to the past pattern of not sleeping.

It's been a hectic week, which included the funeral of a life-long church member who died in a car accident. I haven't really had time to process any of it yet; I don't think it's quite hit me, really. So, that's all I have to say about that. In more frivolous news, I received the new Harry Potter book, which I had pre-ordered...but I haven't had a moment to start reading it yet. I did have a bit of free time this week at night, but being me, I chose not to use it to stay home and read (or sleep), but rather to go see a couple of my friends' bands, The Velmas and Plastic Soul (yes, this is a blatant advertisement - go forth and hear good music).

I continue to realize about myself that I do not recharge by sitting in my house alone. I relax and unwind by being around people, preferably in the presence of live music. Hello, I am an extrovert (which is part of what makes this whole no-driving thing so frustrating). Nonetheless, a little more sleep might be in order, and therefore, I'm turning in now. At 11pm. Early. Yay me.

Another Post In Which I Give a Brief Synopsis of My Condition

All things considered, I'm actually doing really well. I feel like myself, which means I'm adjusting well to the medication. I'm doing everything pretty much normally, except that whole driving thing. Which, if I dwell on it and wonder what I'm going to do in a month when I no longer have a chauffeur, still tends to make me get a tidge panicky, but really isn't the biggest deal in the world, in the scheme of things. There are many, many worse things that could happen, and I do have friends who are willing to help.

I have to interrupt here to say that I'm not crazy about that "there are worse things" rationale in general, but it does give one perspective at times.

So, since I'm feeling like myself, I'm pretty much back to my usual schedule of having a whole lot to do. But a funny thing happened while I was being taken out of the game by silly things like hospitalization and a body full of various drowsiness-inducing drugs. I caught up on a considerable amount of sleep. I know they say you can't do that, but I'm not convinced. Anyway, I now feel like someone who is rested and energized, rather than someone who is constantly on the verge of falling over. So, you know, you take what you get, and as far as side effects go, that's a pretty good one.

What's Going On With Me?

A brief update on the seizure saga:

I've seen my primary care physician. Perhaps I should say that I've seen a primary care physician, and decided that it's probably well past time for me to have a primary care physician. He's referring me to a neurologist. The neurology center will get the referral, look at the paperwork from the hospital, and decide which of their doctors will take my case. Then, apparently, someone will call me to tell me when my appointment will be. Note that none of this involves me talking to the neurology center, or discussing when I am able to have an appointment. I have no idea when they might call me. When I talked to the neurology secretary, who mostly told me that she needed to speak directly to my physician, she said that the next open appointments are in September or October.

So, the primary care physician tells me that it would be a very bad idea for me to drive before six months have passed. I believe he used the word "stupid." He'd actually like me to wait a year. When I said "Ha!" he repeated the same line I got from the hospital doctor: wait until I'm cleared by a neurologist. In September...or October...or whenever they get around to seeing me.

Six months would put me at January 1. It's only been two weeks and I already want to jump out of my skin. Just thought I'd share.

Recovery Randomness

It occurs to me that, considering the sort of work I do, I might be learning a rather important lesson right now. You see, I work with a lot of elderly people - a lot of people who experience loss daily: loss of independence, loss of mental acuity, loss of physical function. It's not entirely different from finding myself suddenly unable to drive, too groggy to remember the words or names I want, and too tired to stay awake past 10pm or keep functioning for more than 6 hours at a time.

I didn't have to preach this morning, and that was a very good thing - although it was totally bizarre to sit in the pews as someone else led worship.

A friend arrives tomorrow to play chauffeur for the next couple of weeks. This is also a very good thing.

Why, O why do I live in a place where there is not even freaking pizza delivery?

I think I might need another nap.

Giving Up

For the past few months, a group of pastors and other people in this area have been planning a casual worship service to be held on Friday evenings outside of First Church in Albany. The more I've tried to back off and let other people plan these services, the more I've ended up being in charge of various aspects of it, and so this service has come to feel like my baby. Tonight is the inaugural Peace at Pearl service, and the original plan was for me to both preach and do the half hour of music leading into the service.

Being me, I had done minimal work on the specifics of the service. I figured that I could more or less wing things within the structure we've established, and then, through doing it, I'd know how to tell the leaders of future services how to plan for it.

Then this whole seizure thing happened. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to physically get there, what with the no driving and such. I was quite certain that my brain would not be up to preaching or winging liturgy, since this medication is still making me groggy and slow on the uptake. And, my tongue is still swollen from being chomped upon, so singing is pretty much out.

Anyway, I am going, thanks to a ride from a friend, but I've had to pass off the leadership to others. I'm very nervous about this. I'm passing off leadership of a lot of things this week, and I really hate it. I know it's necessary. I did about four hours worth of work today and then had to take a nap - and this was an improvement. I know I can't handle doing all my normal stuff, and I know that other people can do my normal stuff just as well if not better than I can. But I still don't like it. Whine whine whine.

Normal

Otherwise known as My Slightly Self-Pitying Rant

I've been home for a couple of days now, and I keep waiting to feel normal, but I don't yet. I probably won't feel old normal, actually. One of the things I remember about this medication is how it made me feel sort of emotionally flat, and that is proving to be true again. It also makes me drowsier than usual, but I'm hoping that effect will either reduce with time, or I'll get used to these new limitations, and they'll come to feel normal.

I left the hospital with strict instructions to see a neurologist ASAP. So, I called the neurology department in Albany today to try to get an appointment, but apparently they never talk to patients directly to set up appointments. A doctor has to call them and make a referral, and all my records have to be faxed over, and then they'll call me to set up an appointment ONLY if the referring doctor has told them to speak directly with me. So, I have to have my hospital records faxed to them...but the records won't be part of my file for another 4-7 days from now. My discharge orders say I should see a neurologist in 3-7 days from Tuesday. To complicate matters, I somehow have to get back to the hospital after the records have become part of my file, to sign a release form - and yo, I can't drive. One might think it would occur to them to make the referral and fax the documents at the time of discharge, but whatever. See, all this medical rigamaroll is what got me into this non-medicated state in the first place.

Okay, a case in point about the abnormally tired thing: apparently, cleaning my kitchen, taking the dog out, answering email, and blogging a bit is now enough to make me really tired. So, I'm going to go now, and do as my dog is doing (napping).

Update

Today I finally got to go home. For some of you, that will be enough information, and you can stop reading now.

The MRI and blood tests were clear, which was a great relief. This means that I have indeed not grown out of the seizure disorder and will be on this medication for life, which is fine. On a related note, I can't drive for a while, which is not really fine, even though it's totally understandable. I do not live in a good location for not being able to drive, and I live alone (except for the dog, who I feel is unlikely to pass her driver's test anytime soon). So, now I get to go see a neurologist and wait until the meds are stable, and beg rides from people. I'm really not good at being dependent on others, but I'm sure it will be a good learning experience for me.

My whole body still aches from the seizure, as though I did three hours of intense exercise rather than spasming on the floor for three minutes. Also, my tongue is still swollen due to the fact that I seem to have chomped on it several times while doing the aforementioned spasming. The doctor tells me that tongue cells are replaced every four hours, so that pain should be gone soon. I'm still on the groggy and easily-wearied side, from a combination of the many drugs they pumped into me at the hospital, and the fact that hospitals are not really very restful places. They never let you sleep more than three hours before they run in to make sure you're still okay.

So, that's what's up with me right now. Thanks for your thoughts and prayers.

FYI

Just to let you know, I'm currently in the hospital. I had a seizure on Sunday night in the middle of a congregational meeting at the church I'm supervising. Yes, I have a history of seizures, but it's been a long time - eight years or so. Yes, I used to take medication for it. No, I haven't been taking medication for it for almost four years. Yes, I'm going back on medication.

I was supposed to go home yesterday, but then an abnormality showed up on my CT scan, so I had to have an MRI, and the results were not back by the time the doctor had to decide whether I'd stay another night. So, here I am. Yay, single room!

There are things I like about the hospital. Breakfast in bed, free wireless internet, the adjustable bed. But I have now been here more than a full day longer than I expected, and I'm getting a little irritated at having to ask permission to do ANYTHING. Seriously - I'd need a doctor's order to shower. Hopefully I'll be going home today.

One way or the other, I'll be in touch.