Author: Linda Andresen

  • Hello, and welcome!

    SATURDAY NIGHT SPECIAL

    2015

    My husband Jon, our then fourteen-year-old triplets, and I volunteered one Saturday night to serve on the Relief Bus. As the orange sun set on the autumn evening we all piled into the church vans for the ride down to Paterson. I had our massive bag of donations and my coffee. I looked the part. Everyone else in the van had done this before, we were the newbies. The entire ride down I was nervous about my hearing loss, and what I wouldn’t hear. Would I miss hearing something dangerous? Maybe I would misunderstand someone and offend them. I sipped my coffee and I could taste it was going cold, I thought “Oh man cold coffee, just perfect”.

    When we pulled up to the relief bus there was a line forming already. We were all assigned stations. The kids went to theirs, and Jon went to his while I was inside the back of the bus with a woman named Lisa. When people came to Lisa and me, our job was to give them a pair of socks, or gloves, a hat, and a toiletry kit. We were to ask if they had any prayer requests and if we could pray over them. 

    The first person stepped up. I froze. I don’t even think I smiled. The gentleman had on a coat that said north face but looked as if it had been dragged over several miles of dirt roads and rocks before he acquired it. His face was sad, his eyes filled with tears. Lisa asked what he needed prayer for. I didn’t hear what he said, but it didn’t matter. She began to pray for him as I stood still slightly stunned not knowing what to do, so I just put my hand on his tattered black coat. After we prayed I handed him a pair of socks, a soap kit, and off he went. Lisa smiled at me and said I did good. I doubted it. The next person stepped up. This time a young woman. She wanted prayer for a job interview she had Monday morning. Lisa prayed, I gave her a beautiful deep red hat and managed to find my voice to say it would look lovely on her. She thanked us and off she went back outside. 

    With each person that came up, I started to relax. Not because of anything I did, but because of how wonderful the people were. Each one smiled at me, asked me how I was doing, took my hand for prayer, and said thank you. Even though their hands were cold, I could feel their hearts were warm. A young boy around eleven came up and asked us to pray for an Xbox. Lisa knew just what to do, as she prayed she said “Lord I hear the desires of this child that he wants an Xbox, but I pray he desires You first.”  I looked up and the boy was nodding his head in agreement. 

    By this point, my cold coffee was long forgotten, and not hearing didn’t matter. A man stepped up with a big smile, his friendly spirit entered before he did. He welcomed us to the area because he was “a regular” as he put it. We prayed for him, and he prayed over us. He thanked God for us and prayed for revival in the area. He called us blessings, and I could feel my cheeks flushing. 

    A mother with a small child, a grandmother with twelve grandbabies to feed, a man looking for work, people in pain, people in need, all like me, people. Another man stepped up, barely able to walk from drunkenness, we had to hold onto him so he didn’t fall right back out of the back of the bus. My nose was overwhelmed with the eye-watering fumes of his addiction as he began to pray. He didn’t wait for our inquiries, he just opened up his mouth and uttered the most beautiful prayer I ever heard. Every word was coherent, not one slur, this same man before was barely able to utter his name for the list, and now here he was pouring out his soul in a perfect voice. Tears streaming down his face, he grabbed both of our hands and held on. Lisa and I could not contain our tears and the three of us became a trio of crying. I don’t know if this man, or any of the other people we saw will be able to change their ways. I don’t know if the lady who prayed for electricity to be restored in her fire-savaged home will ever get to go home again. I don’t know if after leaving us with soup in one hand, and socks in another, some will go around the corner and shoot up. What I do know is for those few hours inside that bus we looked into each other’s eyes and we connected. We were all one big grateful, loving community, I felt safe, and I felt blessed.

    On the ride home, our family shared stories about the night. The kids said they saw many glad faces, and everyone thanked them. They took away that the people there were nicer than the general public in good old rich Bergen County. Not one person was rude, not one person annoyed, and everyone said thank you. Many of them asked the kids how they were doing, asked them if they were having a good day, and told us all to get home safely. We may have handed them food, clothing, and a prayer, but they gave us so much more to take home with us. 

  • A Matter of The Heart

    Last week, on November 20th 2024, I had a procedure called cardiac ablation. During this procedure, a catheter is run to your heart. The purpose is to burn off the electrical impulses causing an arrhythmia. So, my heart was quite literally on fire. I told Jon it was on fire for him. 😜

    I was told 14 years ago that I should have this procedure done, and for 14 years, I avoided it. I proved back in October of this year that I am not the ideal patient, to say the least. I am like a car with the check engine light on. I still drive okay. So, why bother looking under the hood? I consulted multiple doctors and my family, and together, we decided to finally get that tune-up I needed.

    To say I was scared is like saying the sky is big. The terror running through me was turned up to a ten out of ten. Even though I was petrified, I knew it needed to be done. After nearly 4 and a half hours, the procedure was successful. We believe it has stopped my heart arrhythmia. We won’t know for certain until after some time has gone by and they do not return. Still, I came out of the procedure with a ton of chest and back pain. The pain was far too great to brush it off. I communicated that I was experiencing pain. The doctor and nurses ran a few tests. It showed I had a ton of inflammation and a trace amount of fluid around my heart. Apparently, all that poking made my body react because it was a longer procedure than usual. This got me a ticket to the penthouse suite in telemetry for the night. I remember specifically asking for the ocean view, but the garden view had to do.

    The following day, the doctor ordered a cardiac ultrasound to see if the inflammation and fluid had improved. Thankfully, my pain had gone almost entirely away. I took that as a good sign, and it was. The echo showed the inflammation was better, but it picked up on something else. More tests were ordered. After they were completed, I was diagnosed with a big, long-name inferior vena cava thrombosis. Basically, it’s a blood clot right in my heart. ❤️

    So, I am calling it Bob the Blob. Bob is preventing me from having my scheduled hysterectomy next week. The original plan was to fix my heart. Then, they would take out the parts that are causing bleeding. They would also remove the “inconclusive pelvic mass” that was discovered. This was an effort to stabilize my blood pressure and cure my severe anemia. It also aimed to let my body start the healing process. I was not looking forward to another surgery. Yet, I was really excited to feel like my old, energetic self again.🏄🏼‍♀️

    While Bob the Blob is hanging out rent-free, the other surgery has to be pushed back. Right now, I am looking at the end of January. However, I need to build up strength with lots of rest. (Again, with the resting, I am running out of patience as a patient.) I am also taking blood thinners to evict good old Bob from his cozy little studio apartment.

    Still, in the midst of all of this, there is some good. I had God watching over me because it is not routine to have tests after cardiac ablation. It was only because I had pain that they admitted me. My GP expressed relief, saying, “Thank God they found the clot.” If they hadn’t, I wouldn’t have had a chance on the OR table next week. I am thankful and grateful. I have a team of five amazing doctors. They are all working together to fix this broken body. I am also extremely thankful that my MS, despite all the stress, has decided to cut me a break. It is not acting up. MS is like an unruly toddler. I think it’s happy watching videos on an Ipad and sucking on a lollipop at the moment. 🍭

    So when I get frustrated that I can only drive if really needed, locally, and only if there is no one else to take me, I will be grateful. When I can not lift, push, or pull more than 10 pounds until further notice, I will be thankful. When I spend my days thinking of creative ways to get tasks done without upsetting Bob, I will be happy. Because I am here today to continue to tell my story, to watch the rain, to smell the wet leaves. I am here looking ahead to the triplet’s 24th birthday next week. Instead of being on that OR table, I am here to enjoy the holidays with my amazing family. 🥰

    Even though my body keeps trying to quit, I am too stubborn. I plan on being around at least 58 years more. I have a lot to say, so stay tuned.

  • Sometimes, we all need help

    This past week, I had a medical event. It sent me to the ER and earned me a few days in the hospital.

    For the last several months, I have not been feeling my best. In the previous month, I went to doctor’s appointments and tried to figure out what it could be. However, when things started to get bad last weekend, my brain went into denial.

    I did not listen to my family or my doctors when my blood pressure was dropping dangerously low to go to the hospital. I didn’t want to be a “bother” or be “dramatic” by going. I thought I could fight it out, drink water, eat more salty foods, and manage the situation. What I did not see was the worry, pain, and torture I was putting my family through. Even to the point of telling poor Taylor, who was home alone with me the first night it happened, that she couldn’t call 911 unless I passed out. Cue the guy with the big red flag!

    This feeling and a very low blood pressure lasted four days until Tuesday night. I promised my family I would go to the hospital in the morning. My excuses were long. I am fine; I made it through the last few days and am still here. I hate the ER at night. Just let me sleep, and I’ll be better in the morning.

    As I lay down to bed, I said a childhood prayer. Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray The Lord my soul to keep, and if I die before I wake, I pray The Lord my soul to take. I was praying not to die, yet I was in denial that I could.

    God had another idea. He intervened through the one thing I would listen to: my Apple watch. He can use anything for His good. It kept flashing that my heart rate was increasing. I tried five times to ignore it, wondering why it was telling me that when it was not set up for that alert. After the 5th time, I received a text from a dear family member saying, “We are praying for you.” I decided if the watch went off again, I would take my blood pressure one more time.

    The EMT in me said that if your heart rate increases and your blood pressure decreases, that is called compensated shock. It means your body is trying to fight to stay alive, and it can only do that for so long before you decompensate, and then it’s game over.

    I laid my head back down, checked the weather on my watch to change it up from the HR alerts, and shut my eyes. The watch went off for the sixth time, and I took my BP, 68/46. I had no choice, and I was too weak to fight. We all went off to the ER.

    After a few days in the hospital, I am back home and stable, but my schedule is filled with doctor appointments, and my computer is filled with research on healing, medical questions, and test results. I would love a month of reading great books, not blood test results.

    We are still not sure exactly what is going on with my body, and I have a very long road ahead of recovery and figuring it all out. But what I do know is my GP, cardiologist, and hematologist all told me that if I had gone to sleep Tuesday night, I would not be here to write this. I was trying not to bother anyone or go to the hospital yet again (I have had more than my fair share over the years), and I just wanted to go back to taking care of everyone else. While I was in the hospital, it took a great friend and a ton of courage for her to yell at me to make me realize the pain I was causing my family and friends by being so stubborn, but the unfathomable pain I could have caused if I had gone to sleep.

    Please do not ignore yourself when you know something is not right or if your doctors are telling you to get preventative tests, take medication, or change your diet. Sometimes, your only job is to stay alive because that is the best gift you can give your loved ones and yourself.

    So please forgive me if I don’t respond to all of your comments. Social media can get overwhelming, and I have not been on Facebook much. I am sorry I missed the vacation pictures, birthday wishes, and your virtual lives. Right now, I will heal, study, spend time IRL with family and friends, and take this opportunity to prioritize myself.

    Please learn from my experience and put yourself first. I don’t usually do things for myself if I can do something for someone else instead. I am wired that way, and that is ok, but this time, it almost cost me my life.