A note from the author: Through sickness...When Mark and I stood before the judge that cold February morning, we never dreamed that life would take us down a path of darkness. This isn't going to be an easy chapter to write and it will even be harder to push the publish button because I vowed that I would only write positive things. But we are all human. We all face dark times. I have reconsidered, and I want to write this chapter. I want to because I want to let my grandchildren know that someday they may be called upon to be a caregiver. Someday it may be their lot to walk beside someone who cannot love, who forgot how to hug, who forgot how to see life in its glory. I want to let them know how important their compassion, their laughter, their quiet voice can be to someone who is in a hopeless state. I feel free to write this because I was that person. I was that person who had forgot what it was like to love, I was the one who lived for a year in darkness. I am not writing this for sympathy. I know that I am very fortunate because I did get well. I am writing this only to let you know that we all are human and we all have problems. I am sorry that it will be longer than normal. This chapter takes place about two years after our house fire. I wrote this note first so that you would understand that this chapter is not written in chronological order after the last chapter I wrote.
For Better or Worse...Through Sickness and Health
"Don't forget that we have that picnic tonight with our friends honey," I said as Mark walked to the tractor.
"So you will be cooking something to take, right. If so, make those meatballs."
"Sorry, Chris said it is all her doing so I'm sure we will be eating in style!" With that I gave him a peck on the cheek and he was off.
It was a beautiful summer day. While I worked in the garden and mowed the lawn, Bret and Kate rode their tricycle, played with the barn cats and played in the creek. About 5:00 I did the farrowing shed chores, and the kids and I got our baths and got dressed. Mark was just getting in under the wire. After a fast shower, we loaded into the car and were off.
Oh my goodness! What a feast! Everything was set so cozy and cute under the big shade trees in the back yard. There was food, food and more food. Chris was a super cook. There was lots of visiting and the kids played under the big trees. I loved sweets so I made a hog of myself. Really we all did. It was just too good.
When all the food was put away, we sat around in chairs visiting as the sun set.
What was that feeling all about? For some reason I was feeling really anxious. I sat there trying to calm myself down. I took a couple of deep breaths. There finally.
"When are you and your fiance planning to be married?" I heard someone ask.
"Oh we haven't sat a date for sure but probably late August," Chris answered with a smile.
There it was again. This time it felt like my heart was going to flip right out of my chest. I cleared my throat and tried to set a little straighter. I felt faint. "Kate will you go get Daddy and tell him that we need to go home?" He couldn't get here fast enough. Something was going all wrong. I sure didn't want to tell anybody. I just wanted to get home.
After rounding up Bret and telling everyone goodbye and thanks for all the goodies, we walked to the car and headed home.
"What's going on anyway?" Mark asked steering us out into the street and out the back way toward home.
"I really don't know to tell you the truth. I just got to feeling really anxious and then my heart started to flip around in there," I answered pointing to my chest.
"Maybe we better go to the emergency room," Mark said looking concerned.
"No please not, Just get me home. You know what I think of hospitals!"
When we got home, I announced, "I'm just going back to lay down if you don't mind." I walked back through the hall to our bedroom in kind of a daze. What had come over me anyway? Maybe I should go to the hospital. Just to see. No I don't want to. This would pass and I would feel better. I flopped down on the bed still dressed.
"Honey... honey... could you come here please?" I hollered as loud as I could. I felt faint. I was sure that I was going out. Everything was turning fuzzy.
"Could you get me a cold rag?" I heard myself say in a whisper. I felt it on my forehead. It made me come to, but then the shaking started. I just couldn't stop. I felt tight all over.
"Could you just rub my shoulders or arms or something. Maybe I'm cold. Is there a blanket in the closet?"
Mark got a quilt and covered me and started to rub my arms and back. Then it was coming again. I felt like I was going to pass out. What was happening to me anyway? For about fifteen long minutes, I went from shaking uncontrollably to half way passing out. Back and forth.
"Am I going to be okay, Mark?" I asked. I was so scared!
Finally it stopped and I could sleep. Mark and the kids did the chores and cleaned up the kitchen and went to bed.
During the next few weeks, those terrible shaking spells didn't come back. I was just totally exhausted all the time. I would go to bed with the chickens and wake up around eight and feel like I never slept at all. I did not know what was happening. Maybe if I just tried to ignore it all, it would go away. Maybe I just needed to get out and try to forget all of this.
"Could I disc over on the 80 this afternoon, Mark? I really think I need to get out and forget all this stuff."
"You can if you are sure you have the strength. It needs to be done for sure."
I grabbed my favorite snack, graham crackers and an apple and headed to the field. This was to be my lunch. It was fast and quick. I didn't feel like cooking anyway. I just wanted to get out and do something different. Try and forget my problems. I wanted to forget, but I couldn't. I was so tired. I lasted for a few hours but had to give in and go home. I made it to the couch and plopped down. I was out like a light bulb. That is how Mark found me.
"I really think that you should go to the doctor, Carrie. I'm really concerned. You just aren't yourself." Mark said to me about a month later.
"Yes, I agree. I made an appointment with Daytha for next Thursday."
This would be the first of many appointments. When I would visit with my doctors, they really couldn't find anything seriously wrong. They couldn't find anything, but I could feel it. I was listless. I didn't care about anything. I was scared. Every morning I would wake up, I would wonder how I would make it through the day. My poor family. I didn't feel like doing much of anything.
I would spend most of the day laying on the couch, covered up with blankets. Those terrible shaking spells would come once in a while. I just couldn't stop them. I became very depressed! Very depressed! Poor little Kate and Bret were loosing their mother, and Mark was loosing his wife. I didn't care anymore.
Mark took the responsibility of not only the field work, but also the meal preparing, the laundry and putting Bret and Kate to bed. Through all of this he was my pillar.
It was getting so bad that I would start marking the days on the calendar. I was a little better today...I was so tired today...Everything looked black today... I shook uncontrollably this afternoon... I was trying to see what was happening. I didn't know and I was scared. I prayed desperately that someone would help me. Someone would tell me what was happening. But no answers came.
Our friends and family were becoming very concerned. I was losing weight pound by pound I don't know if my doctors were getting anxious or just throwing up their hands. I was in the doctors office often. Every time I went I had something different wrong. Finally, Daytha ordered a five hour glucose tolerance test. Our dear friend Eula heard that I was having one and she insisted on being with me, and was I ever relieved that she was.
We drove to the hospital where I was given a sweet drink. After drinking it, they took my blood sugar every half hour for five hours.
On about my third trip back to the lab I was having trouble talking. It felt like my tongue was as thick as a 2 x 4 and I just stuttered. I couldn't get my words out. At this point, Eula marched back to the lab and asked what my sugar was doing.
"About the same. It dropped some but not much."
"Well, she is having trouble talking and is starting to shake. I'm going to take her over to the doctor's office and let them see her."
She took me to the car and over we went. I was shaking so hard by that time that I could hardly walk. I couldn't make sense with my words. They took me right back to a room and the doctor took one look at me and said that they were going to give me some orange juice and if I stopped shaking within five minutes, I had hypoglycemia, or low blood sugar. Sure enough...within minutes I stopped that terrible shaking.
"Well, we have finally found your problem," Daytha said with a smile. She sent me home with a diet for diabetics. She was sure that I would get to feeling better soon. I sure was hoping so.
But I didn't! I got worse, if that was possible.
As fall turned into winter, my energy decreased. I didn't want to do a thing except sleep. Life was going south, and fast.
I think morning was the worst. I laid there in bed not wanting to get up. I knew what yesterday was like, and the day before that, and the day before that. Would today be the same? I didn't want to find out, but I had to get up. I had to help Mark. So, up I got and walked slowly out to the breakfast table.
I sat there at the table that used to be a happy place. But this morning I sat there, elbows on the table and my chin resting in my hands, staring at those two little faces across the table. They were calling me mommy. Why? Who were they? And that man at the stove? Who was he? Every night and during the day he would come to me and put his arms around me and talk so kind. But was he my husband? My mind was so mixed up. It seemed like I was a little tea pot setting on a shelf. Every once in awhile, someone would come along and pick me up and place my somewhere. I would set there for a while and then they would place me somewhere else. I was kind of watching from up above somewhere.
Mark got me another appointment. I didn't care anymore at this point. He took me there and explained to the doctors that something wasn't working. I just sat there. The doctor suggested we have a brain scan done and scheduled one for the following Tuesday.
"Will I be okay?" I asked Mark that night as he held me in his arms. "I'm so scared. Do you think I have a tumor?"
"No I really don't," he said trying to sound reassuring. "But there is something wrong, and I want to find out what it is. The kids and I miss you!"
"I know...but Mark there is something that is happening that you don't know about," I whispered in the dark.
"What is it?" he asked so tenderly.
"Sometimes I look at you or the kids and I wonder who you are. I wonder if you really belong here," I answered with a shaky voice.
Mark was quiet for a long time, then he cleared his throat and said, "We do belong. We are yours and you are ours. You are just sick right now Carrie. We will get to the bottom of this, you'll see. Never forget that the kids and I love you."
On Tuesday, Mark took me to the hospital for the brain scan. I was so nervous. What would I do if I had a tumor? How do they do brain scans anyway? Everything frightened me these days. I felt so insecure.
The nurses and doctor were very kind, explaining everything as they went along. It sure had a way of making it all easier, but I was happy to be back in the car and heading home to my refuge. That night, Mark and I stood on the back porch as the big yellow moon rose over the machine shed. I looked up into his face and asked, "Mark do you think that I have a brain tumor?"
He chuckled and held me close. "Really, I don't but we will face it if and when we have to. Until we know for sure I want you to try and not worry. Okay?"
Well if Mark said he wasn't worried then maybe I would be okay. The next morning, the call came that proved Mark correct. There wasn't a tumor. What a relief but what was making me feel so terrible?
It was late winter when the phone rang one evening after supper. Mark answered and I could hear his side of the story.
"Hello...Oh yeah, how are things up there?...That's good...No snow on the ground here...Then a silence and then...Well I think something needs to be done for sure...I'll try my hardest to get her there...Thanks for calling...bye and he hung up.
He walked into the living room where I was laying on the couch watching the kids play on the floor.
"That was your mom," he said coming to the couch, and sitting down, lifting my feet and placing them gently on his lap.
"Oh what did she want?" I asked half asleep.
"There is a Dr Walters coming up there to speak next Thursday. He is a well known nutritionist. She and your dad insist that you go up and at least listen to him."
"I'm not going. You can if you want to. Mark I'm tired of doctors. Nothing is helping. I just feel like all hope of me ever really living again has gone out the window. I'm sorry but I'm just getting tired of all this horrible dark cloud every morning I wake up. I'm just done trying." I said turning my face from the kids and from Mark.
Once again Mark just sat there silent, holding my feet, his eyes glued on our two little children playing there on the floor. He just sat there for the longest time. Then he said in a soft gentle voice. "Carrie I love you and I need you more now than ever. I refuse to accept your decision! You WILL go up to that seminar! We all are going and the kids will stay with your mom and dad while we go listen to Dr Walters. I'm sorry but I will not stop until I get you back Carrie." At that he got up and took Bret and Kate back to their bedroom and tucked them into bed.
On Thursday, Mark literally drug me to the car. All four of us headed to Mom and Dad's. After dropping Bret and Kate off, Mark and I drove into that little town where, unknown to me, my night mare would be discovered!
We sat in the back row. I wanted to be close to the door so I could get out fast. There was laughter and chatter going on around me, but I just sat there staring off into space. Mark sat silent beside me.
Dr Walters was a husky middle age man. He had a smile that lit up his eyes. He gave a person the feeling of being alive, that life was so worthwhile. He had confidence in everything he told us that morning. In his mind there was no questions. He had answers. After about an hour of telling us things about our bodies and the importance of healthy eating he asked, "Now I'll take questions from the crowd. Who has the first question?"
My hand went flying up.
"Yes the little lady in the back row."
I started to rattle off my past years history. I said, "And no one can give me answers. No one!"
Dr Walters looked straight at me and he said. "I know just exactly what you have. You have what they call hypoglycemia or other words low blood sugar."
"I was checked for that and they said it wasn't really that bad and gave me a diet but I felt worse after I started on that diet," I argued.
"Well, like I said, that is what you have and if you come to my clinic, we will put you through a week of testing. I'm sure there are other issues that we will find too. After the meeting you come up and I'll give you my card."
Mark reached over and squeezed my hand. I looked at him and there was a smile on his handsome face. For the first time in one horrible dark year, my heart felt that maybe just maybe we had an answer.
Back home Mark made a phone call to his parents. "Carrie and I found a doctor that sounded confident that he could help, The problem is he is in Scottsdale Arizona. I was wondering if you and dad could come for a week to watch Bret and Kate and do the chores while I take her down.? We have a appointment for two weeks from today."
He was silent for a while and then said, "Thanks Mom. I just have to go. I want her to be back to her normal self so badly. Hopefully, this is the answer."
Two weeks later and a lot of planning and preparing on Mark's end, we drove up to Dr. Walters clinic in Arizona. Dr. Walters was so special. His manner was like a father. He took us under his wing and was so kind. The first thing he did was talk to us in the privacy of his office. He told us that our conversation was being taped.
He told us that this whole thing started the day of our fire. The minute I looked down those stairs, my adrenaline gland erupted and I could have moved a mountain. I had to get those kids out. After that, the gland started to die away. It took a period of two years. My body and mind were slowly breaking down.
Those five days of testing showed that yes the adrenaline gland had stopped working more or less. We had to get it woke up. Yes I did have hypoglycemia, or low blood sugar. My sugar didn't drop very low, but it dropped fast, which could cause severe symptoms. I was also allergic to a lot of foods I was eating. My hormones were also playing a part in my symptoms.
The day we went home, Dr Walters visited with us again in his office. He looked straight at me and said, "I am sending you home with a very strict diet, and a handful of vitamins that I have made myself for your condition. I am not going to be there to make you take them, but I promise that if you do and walk one mile a day, you will get better. Don't be joked into the fact that it will happen overnight. It took two years for you to get this way so it will take at least three months, but I promise you will feel better.
We hugged each other and Mark and I started our long trip home.
I had to be encouraged by Mark to take the vitamins and stick to the diet, but little by little my mind was clearing! I felt more alive. I could clean the house and drive the tractor without dragging myself every step of the way.
I knew my life was forever changed with this diagnosis since it meant a strict diet of little to no processed food and sugars. But I was ready for any challenge just to be able to feel normal again. It felt so good to finally have an answer. It felt so good to be able to love life again! The sun started to shine again in my life. Burdens were lifted. Carrie had come back to her Mark. Mommy had come back to little Bret and Kate. It felt so good to be back again.
For Better or Worse...Through Sickness and Health
"Don't forget that we have that picnic tonight with our friends honey," I said as Mark walked to the tractor.
"So you will be cooking something to take, right. If so, make those meatballs."
"Sorry, Chris said it is all her doing so I'm sure we will be eating in style!" With that I gave him a peck on the cheek and he was off.
It was a beautiful summer day. While I worked in the garden and mowed the lawn, Bret and Kate rode their tricycle, played with the barn cats and played in the creek. About 5:00 I did the farrowing shed chores, and the kids and I got our baths and got dressed. Mark was just getting in under the wire. After a fast shower, we loaded into the car and were off.
Oh my goodness! What a feast! Everything was set so cozy and cute under the big shade trees in the back yard. There was food, food and more food. Chris was a super cook. There was lots of visiting and the kids played under the big trees. I loved sweets so I made a hog of myself. Really we all did. It was just too good.
When all the food was put away, we sat around in chairs visiting as the sun set.
What was that feeling all about? For some reason I was feeling really anxious. I sat there trying to calm myself down. I took a couple of deep breaths. There finally.
"When are you and your fiance planning to be married?" I heard someone ask.
"Oh we haven't sat a date for sure but probably late August," Chris answered with a smile.
There it was again. This time it felt like my heart was going to flip right out of my chest. I cleared my throat and tried to set a little straighter. I felt faint. "Kate will you go get Daddy and tell him that we need to go home?" He couldn't get here fast enough. Something was going all wrong. I sure didn't want to tell anybody. I just wanted to get home.
After rounding up Bret and telling everyone goodbye and thanks for all the goodies, we walked to the car and headed home.
"What's going on anyway?" Mark asked steering us out into the street and out the back way toward home.
"I really don't know to tell you the truth. I just got to feeling really anxious and then my heart started to flip around in there," I answered pointing to my chest.
"Maybe we better go to the emergency room," Mark said looking concerned.
"No please not, Just get me home. You know what I think of hospitals!"
When we got home, I announced, "I'm just going back to lay down if you don't mind." I walked back through the hall to our bedroom in kind of a daze. What had come over me anyway? Maybe I should go to the hospital. Just to see. No I don't want to. This would pass and I would feel better. I flopped down on the bed still dressed.
"Honey... honey... could you come here please?" I hollered as loud as I could. I felt faint. I was sure that I was going out. Everything was turning fuzzy.
"Could you get me a cold rag?" I heard myself say in a whisper. I felt it on my forehead. It made me come to, but then the shaking started. I just couldn't stop. I felt tight all over.
"Could you just rub my shoulders or arms or something. Maybe I'm cold. Is there a blanket in the closet?"
Mark got a quilt and covered me and started to rub my arms and back. Then it was coming again. I felt like I was going to pass out. What was happening to me anyway? For about fifteen long minutes, I went from shaking uncontrollably to half way passing out. Back and forth.
"Am I going to be okay, Mark?" I asked. I was so scared!
Finally it stopped and I could sleep. Mark and the kids did the chores and cleaned up the kitchen and went to bed.
During the next few weeks, those terrible shaking spells didn't come back. I was just totally exhausted all the time. I would go to bed with the chickens and wake up around eight and feel like I never slept at all. I did not know what was happening. Maybe if I just tried to ignore it all, it would go away. Maybe I just needed to get out and try to forget all of this.
"Could I disc over on the 80 this afternoon, Mark? I really think I need to get out and forget all this stuff."
"You can if you are sure you have the strength. It needs to be done for sure."
I grabbed my favorite snack, graham crackers and an apple and headed to the field. This was to be my lunch. It was fast and quick. I didn't feel like cooking anyway. I just wanted to get out and do something different. Try and forget my problems. I wanted to forget, but I couldn't. I was so tired. I lasted for a few hours but had to give in and go home. I made it to the couch and plopped down. I was out like a light bulb. That is how Mark found me.
"I really think that you should go to the doctor, Carrie. I'm really concerned. You just aren't yourself." Mark said to me about a month later.
"Yes, I agree. I made an appointment with Daytha for next Thursday."
This would be the first of many appointments. When I would visit with my doctors, they really couldn't find anything seriously wrong. They couldn't find anything, but I could feel it. I was listless. I didn't care about anything. I was scared. Every morning I would wake up, I would wonder how I would make it through the day. My poor family. I didn't feel like doing much of anything.
I would spend most of the day laying on the couch, covered up with blankets. Those terrible shaking spells would come once in a while. I just couldn't stop them. I became very depressed! Very depressed! Poor little Kate and Bret were loosing their mother, and Mark was loosing his wife. I didn't care anymore.
Mark took the responsibility of not only the field work, but also the meal preparing, the laundry and putting Bret and Kate to bed. Through all of this he was my pillar.
It was getting so bad that I would start marking the days on the calendar. I was a little better today...I was so tired today...Everything looked black today... I shook uncontrollably this afternoon... I was trying to see what was happening. I didn't know and I was scared. I prayed desperately that someone would help me. Someone would tell me what was happening. But no answers came.
Our friends and family were becoming very concerned. I was losing weight pound by pound I don't know if my doctors were getting anxious or just throwing up their hands. I was in the doctors office often. Every time I went I had something different wrong. Finally, Daytha ordered a five hour glucose tolerance test. Our dear friend Eula heard that I was having one and she insisted on being with me, and was I ever relieved that she was.
We drove to the hospital where I was given a sweet drink. After drinking it, they took my blood sugar every half hour for five hours.
On about my third trip back to the lab I was having trouble talking. It felt like my tongue was as thick as a 2 x 4 and I just stuttered. I couldn't get my words out. At this point, Eula marched back to the lab and asked what my sugar was doing.
"About the same. It dropped some but not much."
"Well, she is having trouble talking and is starting to shake. I'm going to take her over to the doctor's office and let them see her."
She took me to the car and over we went. I was shaking so hard by that time that I could hardly walk. I couldn't make sense with my words. They took me right back to a room and the doctor took one look at me and said that they were going to give me some orange juice and if I stopped shaking within five minutes, I had hypoglycemia, or low blood sugar. Sure enough...within minutes I stopped that terrible shaking.
"Well, we have finally found your problem," Daytha said with a smile. She sent me home with a diet for diabetics. She was sure that I would get to feeling better soon. I sure was hoping so.
But I didn't! I got worse, if that was possible.
As fall turned into winter, my energy decreased. I didn't want to do a thing except sleep. Life was going south, and fast.
I think morning was the worst. I laid there in bed not wanting to get up. I knew what yesterday was like, and the day before that, and the day before that. Would today be the same? I didn't want to find out, but I had to get up. I had to help Mark. So, up I got and walked slowly out to the breakfast table.
I sat there at the table that used to be a happy place. But this morning I sat there, elbows on the table and my chin resting in my hands, staring at those two little faces across the table. They were calling me mommy. Why? Who were they? And that man at the stove? Who was he? Every night and during the day he would come to me and put his arms around me and talk so kind. But was he my husband? My mind was so mixed up. It seemed like I was a little tea pot setting on a shelf. Every once in awhile, someone would come along and pick me up and place my somewhere. I would set there for a while and then they would place me somewhere else. I was kind of watching from up above somewhere.
Mark got me another appointment. I didn't care anymore at this point. He took me there and explained to the doctors that something wasn't working. I just sat there. The doctor suggested we have a brain scan done and scheduled one for the following Tuesday.
"Will I be okay?" I asked Mark that night as he held me in his arms. "I'm so scared. Do you think I have a tumor?"
"No I really don't," he said trying to sound reassuring. "But there is something wrong, and I want to find out what it is. The kids and I miss you!"
"I know...but Mark there is something that is happening that you don't know about," I whispered in the dark.
"What is it?" he asked so tenderly.
"Sometimes I look at you or the kids and I wonder who you are. I wonder if you really belong here," I answered with a shaky voice.
Mark was quiet for a long time, then he cleared his throat and said, "We do belong. We are yours and you are ours. You are just sick right now Carrie. We will get to the bottom of this, you'll see. Never forget that the kids and I love you."
On Tuesday, Mark took me to the hospital for the brain scan. I was so nervous. What would I do if I had a tumor? How do they do brain scans anyway? Everything frightened me these days. I felt so insecure.
The nurses and doctor were very kind, explaining everything as they went along. It sure had a way of making it all easier, but I was happy to be back in the car and heading home to my refuge. That night, Mark and I stood on the back porch as the big yellow moon rose over the machine shed. I looked up into his face and asked, "Mark do you think that I have a brain tumor?"
He chuckled and held me close. "Really, I don't but we will face it if and when we have to. Until we know for sure I want you to try and not worry. Okay?"
Well if Mark said he wasn't worried then maybe I would be okay. The next morning, the call came that proved Mark correct. There wasn't a tumor. What a relief but what was making me feel so terrible?
It was late winter when the phone rang one evening after supper. Mark answered and I could hear his side of the story.
"Hello...Oh yeah, how are things up there?...That's good...No snow on the ground here...Then a silence and then...Well I think something needs to be done for sure...I'll try my hardest to get her there...Thanks for calling...bye and he hung up.
He walked into the living room where I was laying on the couch watching the kids play on the floor.
"That was your mom," he said coming to the couch, and sitting down, lifting my feet and placing them gently on his lap.
"Oh what did she want?" I asked half asleep.
"There is a Dr Walters coming up there to speak next Thursday. He is a well known nutritionist. She and your dad insist that you go up and at least listen to him."
"I'm not going. You can if you want to. Mark I'm tired of doctors. Nothing is helping. I just feel like all hope of me ever really living again has gone out the window. I'm sorry but I'm just getting tired of all this horrible dark cloud every morning I wake up. I'm just done trying." I said turning my face from the kids and from Mark.
Once again Mark just sat there silent, holding my feet, his eyes glued on our two little children playing there on the floor. He just sat there for the longest time. Then he said in a soft gentle voice. "Carrie I love you and I need you more now than ever. I refuse to accept your decision! You WILL go up to that seminar! We all are going and the kids will stay with your mom and dad while we go listen to Dr Walters. I'm sorry but I will not stop until I get you back Carrie." At that he got up and took Bret and Kate back to their bedroom and tucked them into bed.
On Thursday, Mark literally drug me to the car. All four of us headed to Mom and Dad's. After dropping Bret and Kate off, Mark and I drove into that little town where, unknown to me, my night mare would be discovered!
We sat in the back row. I wanted to be close to the door so I could get out fast. There was laughter and chatter going on around me, but I just sat there staring off into space. Mark sat silent beside me.
Dr Walters was a husky middle age man. He had a smile that lit up his eyes. He gave a person the feeling of being alive, that life was so worthwhile. He had confidence in everything he told us that morning. In his mind there was no questions. He had answers. After about an hour of telling us things about our bodies and the importance of healthy eating he asked, "Now I'll take questions from the crowd. Who has the first question?"
My hand went flying up.
"Yes the little lady in the back row."
I started to rattle off my past years history. I said, "And no one can give me answers. No one!"
Dr Walters looked straight at me and he said. "I know just exactly what you have. You have what they call hypoglycemia or other words low blood sugar."
"I was checked for that and they said it wasn't really that bad and gave me a diet but I felt worse after I started on that diet," I argued.
"Well, like I said, that is what you have and if you come to my clinic, we will put you through a week of testing. I'm sure there are other issues that we will find too. After the meeting you come up and I'll give you my card."
Mark reached over and squeezed my hand. I looked at him and there was a smile on his handsome face. For the first time in one horrible dark year, my heart felt that maybe just maybe we had an answer.
Back home Mark made a phone call to his parents. "Carrie and I found a doctor that sounded confident that he could help, The problem is he is in Scottsdale Arizona. I was wondering if you and dad could come for a week to watch Bret and Kate and do the chores while I take her down.? We have a appointment for two weeks from today."
He was silent for a while and then said, "Thanks Mom. I just have to go. I want her to be back to her normal self so badly. Hopefully, this is the answer."
Two weeks later and a lot of planning and preparing on Mark's end, we drove up to Dr. Walters clinic in Arizona. Dr. Walters was so special. His manner was like a father. He took us under his wing and was so kind. The first thing he did was talk to us in the privacy of his office. He told us that our conversation was being taped.
He told us that this whole thing started the day of our fire. The minute I looked down those stairs, my adrenaline gland erupted and I could have moved a mountain. I had to get those kids out. After that, the gland started to die away. It took a period of two years. My body and mind were slowly breaking down.
Those five days of testing showed that yes the adrenaline gland had stopped working more or less. We had to get it woke up. Yes I did have hypoglycemia, or low blood sugar. My sugar didn't drop very low, but it dropped fast, which could cause severe symptoms. I was also allergic to a lot of foods I was eating. My hormones were also playing a part in my symptoms.
The day we went home, Dr Walters visited with us again in his office. He looked straight at me and said, "I am sending you home with a very strict diet, and a handful of vitamins that I have made myself for your condition. I am not going to be there to make you take them, but I promise that if you do and walk one mile a day, you will get better. Don't be joked into the fact that it will happen overnight. It took two years for you to get this way so it will take at least three months, but I promise you will feel better.
We hugged each other and Mark and I started our long trip home.
I had to be encouraged by Mark to take the vitamins and stick to the diet, but little by little my mind was clearing! I felt more alive. I could clean the house and drive the tractor without dragging myself every step of the way.
I knew my life was forever changed with this diagnosis since it meant a strict diet of little to no processed food and sugars. But I was ready for any challenge just to be able to feel normal again. It felt so good to finally have an answer. It felt so good to be able to love life again! The sun started to shine again in my life. Burdens were lifted. Carrie had come back to her Mark. Mommy had come back to little Bret and Kate. It felt so good to be back again.
Bless Dr> WALTERS AND HIS DIAGNOSIS I AM SO HAPPY YU ARE THE PErSON YOU ARE TODAY DEAR COUSIN I LOVE YOU
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