Easter Sunday

 I had a foreboding as I walked across the floor and spied the "present" my dog had left for me. To be fair, he is a very anxious dog. We have tried everything to try and keep him calm when we leave, but inevitably, as soon as the back door shuts, before we are even at the car, the barking starts. And upon our return we always find a little "gift". Never pee. Always poop. 

It drives me mad. It used to make me mad. But now, after two years of owning my little Frankie, I just sigh and clean it up. I might yell now and then, and he always knows I'm displeased, but I never punish him. It just isn't worth it. I don't like it, but I would rather clean it up than have the dog be afraid of me. 

What gave me the foreboding was that it was was, not to be crass, kind of runny. Oh dear, the dog isn't feeling well. 

Mini Schnauzers are prone to gastrointestinal issues, and every so often we have a problem. It was true with Belle, the lovely mini we had prior to Frankie, and now he too, was living up to his breed's special problem. 

I cleaned it up, which cost me an hour out of my day, because it meant I had to get the steam cleaner out. This required preparation and cleanup, as well as the actual clean up job, itself. 

I did this and went upstairs and thought nothing else about it. 

I hoped nothing would come of it. I dismissed it. Which I shouldn't have done.

Later on the girls came over to color Easter eggs. We had a grand time in the kitchen, trying out all the different colors, using the wax crayon to write on the eggs, and eating Easter candy. The girls had candy that is, not me. After an hour or so Mom came to get them and take them home and get them to bed, because Easter was going to be busy. We were all going to church in the morning and we would be up early. 

We both lay down in bed. The lights went off. I was almost asleep. On the verge. So comfortable. 

The Mr. sat up. Turned on the light. I took off my headphones, interrupting the show I was dozing off too. And then I heard it. Hurking. Like a shot I was out of bed, trying to find the dog. He was nowhere to be found. I could hear him, but I couldn't see him. That would be because he was behind the Mr.'s desk and he was throwing up. Ugh. This couldn't be good. That eerie foreboding came flooding back. I had a feeling we were not going to get much sleep tonight. I cleaned up the mess, and went back to bed. Turned off the light. But now I was tense. Poor Frankie was laying against my leg, shaking uncontrollably. But then he got up. Jumped off the bed. Headed to the corner and proceeded to have explosive diarrhea. 

I was now fully awake. This was definitely going to be a crisis. And so it was. All. Night. Long. Every. Single. Hour.  Alternately throwing up and having diarrhea. He would jump off the bed, I would follow with the bleach and paper towels. By four in the morning I was wasted. And angry. There may have been some words between me and the Mr., and perhaps some sobbing. By 6:45 I was just resigned. Frankie would get up, jump off the bed and I would follow without comment, without anger, without angst. 

As I tiredly cleaned, I thought to myself several times that this must be a hellish plan of Satan himself. Why else, on Easter Eve (when no vet would be open) would all this be happening? I knew we needed to be up early to take the girls to church tomorrow. I thought to myself something good must be in store for us there, and I determined that no matter what, I would not give in and just sleep in, in the morning. Because that's what I really wanted to do. I was so incredibly tired. I had been in a lot of pain the previous few days. When I say a lot of pain, I mean the Mr. wanted to take me to the ER. Thursday morning I almost couldn't walk. I sat in my recliner, pain reliever already on board, pain patch on my right knee, and just cried. He was very alarmed. The pain had finally subsided and I had fallen asleep and awakened feeling better. Not pain free, but better. 

I determined to be at church no matter what. Plans were made and would be fulfilled. So I pulled up my big girl granny panties, set my alarm, so I wouldn't oversleep, and finally, finally, the dog fell asleep. So did the Mr. and I and we did oversleep by an hour. 

I woke up feeling dead in the land of the living. The joy felt like it had been sucked right out of me. I got dressed, fixed my hair, put on my makeup and went downstairs to try to construct a pen for the dog in the kitchen. I am not a kennel girl. I hate kennels. I couldn't bear to put Frankie in a cage. I know there is a lot of positive stuff about kennels but I determined early on that I didn't want that. 

So I got out the baby gate, but before I could get it up, he sidled around me and had a go on the carpet in the coffee lounge. 

Oh. my. gosh. I may have overreacted. I let out a holler that probably would have awakened Jesus, if he hadn't already been raised from the dead. I lashed out angrily at a soda can that was on the edge of the sink, knocking it into the sink. Ally didn't take kindly to that, and she was right. I apologized, and with tears in my eyes, we headed off to church, leaving Frankie alone in the kitchen, with his bed and a small bowl of water. I was afraid of what I would come home to, but a little voice told me Just get to church, and let Me take care of the dog. 

So we got to church. First thing we found out, no children's church. This is always dismaying to me, because the girls tend to get bored in "big" church as I have always called it. It's much easier if they go to children's church where they aren't bored and I am not constantly trying to get them to sit up, not lay in the pew, kick the back of the pew, talk while the preacher is talking, etc. I mean, it is a good discipline, as I think all kids need to learn at some point, how to sit quietly in a room when other people are talking. But today I really wanted them to go to Children's church. 

Instead we would be having Communion and an Easter Message, as well as a lot of extra singing. I felt that this was going to be a long service. 

But as we began to sing, and I raised one hand, the other being wrapped around Arya, I peeked out of the corner of my eye and I saw Claire singing with her hand in the air also. I began to relax. All the dog poo in the world couldn't take the joy of worshiping God with my grandchildren and my daughter, who had also come along, away. I was so glad I had pushed through the weariness to be here. 

And then the call to Communion. As we stood to receive the elements I asked the girls if they wanted to partake. They are eligible. They have both received Christ. Last time we had been there for Communion they had both declined, which was fine. Today Claire wanted to receive it. I leaned over and talked to her for a minute about what was required and she understood. She and the Mr., and Alyssa went forward to get and bring back the "bread and the wine". Arya, like last time, declined, and that was fine. 

My eyes filled with tears as we broke the bread and drank the cup together. So this was it. This was what Satan had been trying to keep us from. This was the first time for both Alyssa and Claire. I wouldn't have missed this for the world. 

Pastor finished speaking and the altar call began. It was about this time that Arya became very agitated, and began to pull on my arm. I leaned over to hear her as she was trying to tell me something. She was pointing and gesticulating to the balcony behind us. I looked around. There was a man filming up there, standing next to a large spot light, which I assume was for productions. Today there was no need for it, and it was not on. 

I still didn't know what she was trying to tell me. I tried to get her to turn around and face the front, but she was adamant. And now I understood what she was saying, as her volume had increased. Gramma, Gramma, look, look at that! I looked behind me again. The man was still there. The spotlight was still there. And then it dawned on me that it was the spotlight she was talking about. Gramma, this is DANGEROUS! This is SERIOUS! Gramma, there is a LASER CANNON up there! 

All the time she was pulling on my arm, trying to get me to pay attention, to turn around, to see the danger, as she saw it. GRAMMA It's a LASER CANNON! Oh honey, it's just a spotlight. It's not a laser cannon, I promise, said I, but she would not be convinced. So it was I found myself, at service end, trying to keep up with her as she exited the sanctuary, calling behind her, I promise, I promise, it's NOT A LASER CANNON! 

I am not sure I convinced her. 

So we dropped them at home, and on the way to our house, just about three minutes from theirs, the Mr. told me he had been praying for the dog in church. He was believing for an Easter miracle. I am ashamed to say, I was not so sure. 

Upon entering we saw a couple of accidents. He was still having the same problem, it seemed. However he seemed much perkier. And there were only two spots. I had been expecting to find a poopocolypse when we returned. But it was not so. Apparently it was over. The Lord had taken care of the dog and it looked like we had an Easter miracle on our hands, after all. Let me just say I know, from experience how these things work. When the dog gets sick, especially as sick as he was, it takes antibiotics, probiotics, an expensive vet visit, sometimes doggie diapers, and a lot of sweat on my behalf, not to mention several days of extra cleaning and anxiety. 

But, against all the odds, his recovery was lightening fast. Since we came in from church he has not thrown up or had one accident. He has even managed to eat two small meals of hamburger and rice, with some probiotic powder we got from the vet with the last incident (last year), mixed in. 

I fell asleep in my chair. Upon waking I was in some pain, so I took some pain meds, slapped on a pain patch, and wandered into the office. I have been picking up the guitar again in recent weeks, and today I pulled the music stand over and began to play, turning over the pages, as I went, trying out different songs. I came across a tablature that I have never been able to play, and decided to give it one more try. I do that every once in a while, usually giving up after a few minutes and pushing that page to the back of the pile, once I remember why I didn't learn it in the first place. It's just too difficult for me. This time, however, as I looked at the music, it arranged itself before me in a way that I could understand. I tried a couple of notes, and by golly, it worked! I tried a few more, and then worked out how I could go from measure to measure without moving my fingers too awkwardly. And I realized this was not nearly as difficult as I had always imagined. I was slow, very slow, but the notes were right. I was elated. And I realized that I was actually feeling better than I had since Dad passed away. 

And part of that, I reasoned, was that I had changed my diet a few days ago. I had become tired of being tired and inflamed. My legs look like whales. I saw pictures of myself at the funeral and I couldn't believe how terrible I looked. I looked sick. 

So I decided to find an anti inflammatory diet and see if I could get some of the inflammation down. I was diagnosed with Lipedema last fall, and the doctor told me I might lose weight if I could figure out what was causing the inflammation. But, he said, I wouldn't lose the fat, and if I did it would only be in my torso, my legs and arms would not lose the weight.

But at this point I had to try. So I did something that I consider radical. I quit cheese. And milk. And grain. And artificial sweetener. And sugar. And anything processed. 

I had just been shopping the day before I made this decision, so my 'fridge was full. However, I put all of the things I could no longer eat, so I wouldn't be tempted, in a grocery bag and gave it to my daughter. I then went to the store again, and replaced it all with Almond milk, vegetables, some fruits, nuts, beans, and fish.

And within a couple of days I lost a couple of pounds. To date I have lost five pounds, in about a week. I am not getting too excited, because we have been down this path before, not on this particular diet, but I have lost five to seven pounds several times on various diets, and it always stalls and then I give up and crash and burn and go back to my comfort food. 

But I couldn't help wondering if the reason I was able to work out the music was that my brain was sharper. Maybe this is a sign of things to come? Good things I hope? 

We shall see. 

The day didn't start out well, but is ending quite peacefully. Ally is back at school, Matt is out of town, so it's just me and the Mr. and little Frankie, who is asleep in the chair next to me. 

Thank you, Lord, for my family, and for healing my dog. Thank you for those granddaughters who make me laugh and cry tears of joy. And thank you, especially this day for YOU. 
Without your sacrifice on the cross, NONE of this would be possible. Thank you, Lord, for life, and life abundantly.