I’m Tired…

I’m tired of the constant battle.
I’m tired of the constant pain, mentally, spiritually, and physically.
Physically because I’m tired of the pain meds not working, tired of every joint in my body being on fire, tired of my legs deciding to quit working without warning, tired of things falling out of my hand because my fingers involuntarily open, tired of the days my head won’t raise off of the pillow.
Mentally because I’m tired of being told one thing by the Drs. And then the procedure is cancelled and I’m told something else, tired of waiting to be told…nothing, tired of my wife lying awake after I’ve had a bad day afraid to go to sleep because deep down she’s scared that if she does she’ll wake up and I’ll be gone…
Tired spiritually because of Christians that act like anything but Christians, tired of people who are so bitter about their own lives that they can’t stand for anyone to have joy, tired of those who brag about what they’re doing for God while they have no forgiveness…expecting to receive forgiveness, tired of those who think it’s fine to hurt others while they whine about the least little slight…real or imagined, tired of hypocrisy from those who refuse to live by the same standard they hold others to, tired of imperfect people expecting others to make no mistakes.
The worst thing about it is the only two meds I take that can provide a lethal overdose cause intolerable seizures, and I don’t want to go through, or put anyone through watching me, that kind of death. So, I guess I’m stuck in this world for now with jealous, wicked, unforgiving little babies that think it’s all about them…Oh Well….

A New Tone: Reflection on a Christian Journey

Those of you who follow this site, few that you are, will have already noticed that I’ve removed all of the teaching articles.  There are two reasons for this: I’ve moved them to another site (they can be found at http://hubpages.com/profile/W.+Joe+B.), and I’m turning the  Christian Extremist into more of a journal.  Again, those that know me are aware of the recent turn of events, but for those who have not, or only have bits and pieces, I will begin by filling in the gaps.

In the last entry, Not Enough Time, I explained events of the last two years concerning my state of well-being.  Not a pretty sight at all.  Since that time, further events have taken place that make my position in that article even more poignant.  Tests that were scheduled from that fateful day in December are beginning to be completed, and the results are less than favorable.

Also since that day, I have been in the Emergency Room three times and admitted to the hospital twice.  One fine day in January, I began to cough up blood.  Not a good sign, by any means.  On arriving at the ER, I was hastily admitted for observation and an Endoscopy.  The test revealed a nodule deep in my throat that was emitting the blood, but it had finally clotted over.  I was released and have a follow-up with the Eye, Ear, Nose, & Throat (EENT) people to get the nodule out and biopsy it.

In the meantime, a CAT Scan was completed.  The results were so, ah, interesting that the head of the Infectious Disease program called me personally on my cell.  There are two rather large pre-cancerous masses on my liver and left kidney.  The kidney will have to go, as a biopsy on that type of mass will explode it, and if it is cancerous, the poison will quickly spread through my whole body in the lymph system. As far as the liver mass, even Scott & White Medical Center (the DeBakey Center of cancer) is afraid to biopsy the rascal without a full MRI, due to the position of the mass.  The waiting list is long for appointments, so by the time the biopsy is done, it will be a full month after the CAT scan.  Oh, and the ID head said I didn’t have any time to waste.  Go figure.

It’s time to face facts.  If there is ANY suspicion of cancer, then the transplant list is as far away from me as Saturn.  Then, there is the fact that over the last 4-5 months, I have steadily lost energy to the point that an hour after I get up, I’m wasted.  The pain is getting worse, so I’ll have to begin increasing the Neurontin from 2000mg a day back up to the maximum dosage of 3200mg.  I’ve already been put on Oxycodone (synthetic morphine) for the more intense bouts of pain.

Now, for those of you in my family that despise negative confession, just sit on your hands and keep them away from the keyboard to chastise me, because what I’m about to say is not negative confession…it’s a feeling deep in my Spirit man.  Obviously, I”ve been coasting downhill for a couple of years, and now the reasons have been identified.  But it’s time to realize that the incline has become much steeper, and the descent seems to be picking up speed.  It must be faced…I may be getting ready to turn the page.

I’m not afraid to die; I’m just not in a big hurry, but that is not going to be left or me to decide. I eagerly listen for “Well done, My good and faithful servant.”  I’ve not been perfect…God knows I’ve not been perfect, but my heart and spirit have been to follow Him, even though the flesh took the wrong road many times.  To those I’ve hurt, I’m sorry.  It is in my nature to be rather to the point and abrupt, and that causes hurt many times.  Other times, I’ve just plain let my mouth overload.  For that, I’m truly sorry.

I am deeply in love with my Savior, and pray that I’ve done well enough to be with Him.  If not, then I have no reason to complain, because I’ll have caused my own undoing by not living up to the standard He expected of me.  I know His word and I know His will.  He left it for me in 66 books that I’ve desperately searched to understand and have shared with you in my journey.  From this point, The Christian Extremist will become my place to update you and reflect on the ups and downs of my journey through life, however long it may be.

Oh, and it’s His forgiveness I seek most of all.  And it’s not really based on the urgency. It’s based on a heart-felt desire…..

Not Enough Time

A while back, I started a post with the words, “I have a confession to make…I’m dying.”  I’ve since deleted that post because it was the product of bitterness and hurt.  But little did I know just how prophetic those words would be.

On December 30, 2010, I went to an appointment at the Infectious Disease Clinic (IDC) at the Temple, Texas VA Center.  I had recently changed doctors due to a run-in with the one treating me for the last 2 ½ years.  My new Dr. in Waco saw me in November and asked me to go through some extra blood work.  Little did I know what she had seen in the records.  In fact, I didn’t know about the appointment with IDC until they called me about it.

You see, it seems the Dr. I had for the past 2 ½ years had been lying to me.  She told me at each appointment that my blood work hadn’t changed any…no better, no worse…when the truth was just the opposite.  The incident that caused me to change Dr.s was a strange one.  The Dr. began yelling at me and telling me I was not even sick…it was all in my mind.  Well, that’s when I walked out.

After the change, I found that she had blood work from the period that showed the disease was progressing…rapidly.  IDC told me that I was even past the threshold for treatment short of a transplant.  In short, I have a year, maybe two, to live if I don’t get a liver transplant.

I realize there are those out there that would like to see me go ahead and die…some of them even related to me.  You’ll excuse me if I refuse to meet your expectations.  I’ve already outlived a prognosis of death by the holidays in 2004, and being considered for Hospice in 2005.  I have plans to beat this one, too.

In the meantime, I don’t have any time to waste.  I intend to live life as fully as possible to the last second.  There are new relationships coming into my life where I’ve been advised to “take it slow, these things take time.”  Forgive me, but I don’t have that luxury.  If it’s going to take someone 6 months to a year to decide if there’s a relationship there, I don’t have the time to waste on you.  I’m not trying to be mean, nor rude.  I’d love to give you the time you need, but it just isn’t there.  Others in my life want to help me live, and be a part of my life now with no holding back.  The best division of my time is to give it to my wife first, and then, to these people.  My nephews, Cody and Jon, in Missouri want to spend as much time with Uncle Joe as they can get.  So does my son Brent and his wife.  Their boys, my grandkids, took PawPaw skating Saturday.  Yes, I busted my a— a few times (I have a large bruise to prove it) but, by God, I got out there and skated with them.

We bought Mary a used Kawasaki 454 LTD just before Xmas.  She plans to learn to ride and we’re going to burn up road on our motorcycles until I can’t hold one up.  I hope that time doesn’t come unless I’m recuperating from a transplant.  There are things we want to do, and we’re going to try our darndest to do them.

So, if you are in the group that wants my time now, and not later, then I’ll give you all I can….there might not be a later for the rest of you.  As to a transplant, that hinges on if a liver comes available AND if they consider me worth saving.  With the new health care laws and the fact that I’m dependent on VA, chances are good that I’ll be considered disposable, so don’t slow down if you see me…live with me…you’ll have to run to catch up…time is precious.

 

Reflections

This is a day when I simply want to reflect on a tool the enemy uses against God’s people.  The enemy is attacking the family.  The family was the first ordained relationship God established when He said. “It is not good for man to be alone.”  He created woman and the first family had begun.

The family is highly important to the plan of heaven.  Since members of a family are bound by blood, agreement between them is a strong weapon against the enemy.  So, the enemy inserts spoilers into a family to divide and destroy it.  Sometimes it is people, and often one who is a member of the family… a type of “stealth” weapon, if you will.

The family, in God’s plan, is meant to be a place of safety.  It should be a fortress, where one gains strength.  It is meant to be a place of trust.  The world in which we live is a hard place, where many battles are won…and lost.  Everyone gets frustrated and tired in the fray, and all need someone to trust…someone to whom the heart can be emptied out to…someone who will keep that trust and say, “You have my confidence.  I will not betray you.”  That should be found in the family.

It is needed, because there are times when other family members are the ones that frustrate us.  That is because we are still imperfect vessels in an imperfect world.  We all try to walk in perfect love, but have we attained yet?  Not hardly.  As often as we try to self-police, we say things out of turn.  Does that mean we love any less?  No, it just means we have a bit farther to go in taming our tongues.  A family should be able to absorb that and move on.  After all, every member of the group is guilty at one time or another.

Unfortunately, the flesh is weaker than the desire to do good.  Ask the Apostle Paul.  He fought the same battles we do every day.  Ask James.  His discourse on the tongue sounds like he had first hand knowledge of the experience.  Though the family should be the refuge, the safety zone, it seems all too often that when a family member loses favor with one, all confidences are out the door and tongues wag about tongues wagging.  The first thing everyone engages in is the thing they all say they hate the most.

Then the stealth weapon of the enemy is fired.  You know it…that one person that capitalizes on contention and drags the whole family into the fight.  Notice how that person always seems to come out smelling like a rose while everyone else is in the muck and mire slugging it out?  If that person controls the emotions of the family, then they control the family, itself.

How does the family combat that stealth attack?  With love.  “All have fallen short of the glory of God…”  But, as long as he has forgiveness, shoudn’t we?  And don’t throw in the old, “I can forgive, but I can’t forget…”  God does.  He says He “will not remember our sins…”  He expects us to pick ourselves up and go on from there.  And that is what we must do.  Isolate the stealth weapon, identify it, and defuse it with love.  It’s the only way we can grow.

 

The Compost Heap

I was watching my male Pit Bull today in the back yard.  There is a compost heap in the corner of the yard where we throw our grass clippings, vegetable scraps, bad fruit egg shell, and best of all, left-overs from the fridge that have gone past eating safely.  This pile is where we make the organic fertilizer to feed our plants and trees.

Needless to say, the pile is in varying states of…well…decay would be a nice word, but not entirely descriptive.  Rot would be better, and that would not describe the nasty state a “good” compost heap resembles.  The contents of the pile are rotting, spoiling, and just getting “yuckey” in the process of becoming the finished product.

I watched as Samson, the Pit Bull, went over and dug around in the pile a bit.  I was thinking how he was keeping it turned for me so I would not have to rummage in it with a turning fork as much.  Just as I called my wife to look, he flopped over on his back and wallowed in the depression he made for a good minute or two.  I made the vocal observation as to that was the reason the dogs stank so badly, to which my wife replied, “He’s just being a dog; that’s what they do.”

No matter how much you bathe a dog and try to keep it presentable, they will go out of their way to wallow in filth again as soon as you turn your back, if not sooner.  Then it dawned on me, this is the same way many “Christians” act.  God washes them in mercy and forgiveness through the blood of the Messiah, and before He gets his back turned, they’re wallowing in the filth again.

It may not seem like it to them, but it’s filth just the same.  Even if adultery, theft, drunkenness, and murder are ruled out, there’s plenty left that no one thinks about.  If one talks derogatorily about another person to someone, that’s “tale-bearing” and it’s filth.  If one holds anger toward another person, that, to, is filth.  What about unforgiveness and bitterness?  Yep, filth.  Did you run off at the mouth at another driver on the road?  Okay, they didn’t hear you, but God did…filth.

The prodigal must have thought he was a pig, because the Bible says he “came to himself” in the hog-pen.  Well, if he wasn’t himself, and he was in the hog-pen, he must have thought he was a pig.  The way all too many “Christians” act, the must think they’re dogs.  The must, because they wallow in filth worse than my Pit Bull.  When you “come to yourself” will you be a new creation, or will you still be a dog.