Mind Over Matter

I am writing this post a bit late, but that is simply because I have been encompassed in the day to day, and not the mile marks of life.  Bear with me, I will try to share what I remember...

   I went to Wichita the 11th of October, and took my daughter and mother with me.  Gary stayed home, since these long-distance rides really take a toll on his back and knee.  Plus, I think he feels a little left out when the giggly girls take off to pick up our packets and run all over the place in the excitement of yet another race.  I really can't blame him, I don't exactly fit in with his guy interest in tools, but I am learning.  And he has been tremendously supportive, so the fact that he stayed home and held down the home front and took care of all the animals really helped us all to relax.

  The one thing that I was excited about was that I would be running another half marathon, and this time it would be after my kidney transplant.  I learned how different the half marathon felt this year from dialysis half marathon to new kidney half marathon and I wanted to share:

1. My dialysis half I was pushing myself to be at least at the three hour mark, even though there was no cut off period for half marathoners.  I struggled to run the entire time, and only walked when I developed a massive cramp in my left leg at about the 11th mile.  I did make it under 3 hours--by 3 minutes.  As each mile added up I was exhausted and running out of energy.  My new kidney half I did not push myself, on account that I was not quite 4 months out of major surgery, and my muscles were still healing together again.  I enjoyed myself, as I had prepared for this run by running a tenth of a mile, and walking a tenth.  The miles passed quickly and I even took a picture of the early morning sun rising as I ran.  I felt energetic and happy as I went through each mile.
2. My dialysis half I did wear a camelback and wore my mp3 waist belt that also held little energy snacks and gatorade chews and every other little trick in the runner's book.  I chewed on the gatorade chew and took the GU creams when I felt I needed a bit of help.  I did not stop once to use the bathroom, since I simply didn't feel the need to go until after the race.  New kidney half was a different experience all together--I wore a camelbak full of gatorade, and used the same belt as last year, but carried a large bottle of water this year in it.  I had all kinds of little tricks this year as well, but I never felt the need to use any of it.  (I did partake in a GU vanilla cream this year at mile 11, but it actually hurt more than it helped in my opinion.)  And this year I did have to go! I stopped at mile 5 to use the bathroom, since I was starting to feel terribly uncomfortable.  It was such a wonderful feeling to feel normal again.  
3. Dialysis half--despite having a cramp at mile 10, I worked it out with a cup of gatorade and walked it out till I could run at a stilted pace to the finish. New kidney half--I could not run at mile 11 so I started to power walk to my music--Carly Rae Jepsen makes me want to move--and I only managed to run the last .1 to cross the finish line.  My legs cramped horribly but I was determined to run across the finish line.  A woman that I had met during the run had heard me tell an older gentleman about my transplant and she encouraged me during the race.  We managed to cross the line together and congratulated each other.  The embarassing moment was when a man came up to me after I crossed the line and asked me if I needed medical attention. I waved him off, and told him I just needed to walk out the cramps, I was fine. Grabbed a gatorade from one of the volunteers gratefully and made my way to get my medal and my finishers shirt.  
4. My dialysis half my cousin had run the half as well, and she finished about 15 minutes before I had, so she was waiting at the .1 mile to run the last bit with me.  She shouted Go! You got this!!! but I had to laugh and tell her that my stilted pace was all that I could manage without going Forest Gump Magic Legs style of run.  My new kidney half saw me make the run alone, since my kick-ass cousin did the full marathon this year.  This year I waited on my cousin to finish so I could cheer her and her dear friend Jennifer on, and I felt so inspired by them!
5. Last year I ran with only my mp3 walkman, and this year I ran with music, but I carried my new phone with a Nike running app, so I could track my tenth of miles to know when to run and when to walk.  I was also able to keep track of my mileage with it, pace and time.  It helped me relax, and track my progress so that I knew just how much I had to go, and how quickly the time was passing.
6. The 2012 half saw a very determined Tracy who wanted to beat a time, and to be a part of something bigger than herself.  I was angry at not getting a chance to be put on a transplant list and the fact that I was looking at dialysis for the long haul.  I was serious about fighting for my health despite the ravaging effects dialysis has on the body.  I wanted to be victorious, and I wanted to show others when we put our minds to do something, anything, we can succeed.  The 2013 marathon saw a very grateful, very blessed Tracy.  I knew that only by God's grace had I succeeded in both half marathons.  I did not worry about my time, but savored every moment of my run...the cool crisp air, the bright clear sunshine, and the wonderful people that surrounded me.  Everyone in that race had their own story of inspiration, and I marvelled at the power of the people who surrounded me.  I was the inspired, the thankful person who was grateful for being included in such a wonderful event.
7. Last half I limped back to Michelle's house and after a hot shower, tightened into a tight ball of pain and did not want to move one bit.  This year's half saw me a little sore in the ankles, but I felt wonderful after a quick hot shower, and we hurried to my aunt's house for this amazing spread put on by Tim, Michelle's wonderful husband, and my aunt and mom as well.  I ate so well that I should have ran another half to work it off.  After visiting with so many wonderful people in our lives (my brothers and my sisters-in-laws as well as Michelle's family of friends and dear inspirations were there), we had to leave for home, since Snowden had school the next day, and I wanted to see my own wonderful husband.

I should mention that I was abnormally cranky the next day, but that turned out to be a precursor to something else, and not due to the run as I thought it might be.  I did not expect it, but my daughter became quite serious about wanting to start running with me.  We have been on 3 runs together, and it is wonderful cheering her on, and inspiring her to give it just a little more, for a little longer each run that we go on.  I know she is an amazing girl, and I am proud to be her momma.  And I hope that the love of running stays with her...because it certainly has saved her momma.

It Has Been A Full 12 Years--Almost a Lifetime

   A few days ago everyone remembered, in some way, the tragedy America suffered as a nation and family at the hands of terrorists.  The day the twin towers fell, a plane crashed in a Pennsylvania field, and one into the Pentagon.  So many victims, such a senseless end to innocent life, an irreparable hole torn into so many families' and friends' relationships.  An event that changed many of our outlooks on political interaction with other countries, and the footprint we left forever after that day.  As I ran this last Wednesday morning, September 11th, I found myself looking back at the last twelve years of my life, what I went through and what I learned.

   I woke up that morning twelve years ago for no particular reason and went directly to the television and turned it on--not my usual routine.  I was currently attending Pittsburg State University taking Masters classes in English, and teaching two classes as a teaching assistant.  I was also living with my boyfriend then, Justin Carriker, and working at Sirloin Stockade when I wasn't working at the University.  I was pretty booked back then, and pretty stressed.  And when I saw the Twin Towers smoldering, and then as the second plane hit, I was completely shocked.  In my young years I could not comprehend such violence and hate, and loss of life.  It was my first experience with terrorism.  It changed how many people looked at our current political situation and where we stood as a country.  I have to admit that I was one of the people screaming for blood, for revenge for the innocents slayed for some reason that I could not comprehend.

   Years down the road I have grown some--mentally and chronologically.  I dropped out of my last semester of Masters courses for a number of reasons...financial and I found out I was pregnant.  Not what I had planned for myself, an unwed student whose boyfriend was off and on because he was always on the lookout for the greener grass on the side of as many fences that he came in contact with.  Needless to say, I was stressed.  And something wasn't right with the pregnancy.  At 26 weeks I went into preclampsia which by the time I got to Joplin Freeman was full blown eclampsia.  I had HELP syndrome, could barely breathe because the blood capsule around the liver had swollen up 3 times its size.  One nurse at LCMC told myself to "get a hold of myself I was just hyperventilating".  When they took a blood sample (I should say several because they couldn't believe the readings) they got me an ambulance to Joplin.  I gave birth to a son, Michael Damian Traxson, and lost him three days later.  I was lost for a few years after that.  It's not something one can dismiss easily, or handle well.  At least, it was not something I handled well.
 
   During this time my father had a heart attack/stroke issues.  His decline scared me, I wanted him to experience a grandchild.  I got pregnant a year later and had a beautiful daughter, Snowden Chalea.  He adored her, and she loved her Grandpa so much.  She still tells me she misses her Grandpa (who passed away in 2008), and she is glad that when she gets to heaven she will be able to see him again as well as the brother she never got the chance to meet.  Although my parents weren't thrilled I risked my health to have another child they were so happy with my baby...a little spoiling never hurts anyone.  Before I lost my wonderful father I am glad that he got to see me realize my worth again and I got Justin out of my life permanently.  (He went after that green grass on the other side of the fence, and I had decided such a blatant action screamed for an end to a bad relationship.)  I met a wonderful man, Gary Davis, whom a friend had introduced to me.  Not usually good with blind set-ups, I was a sceptic, but we just "clicked".  I found the guy that I knew God wanted for me, and I have been blessed each day to have found my soul mate...he would probably not want such gushy stuff written about him, but that is who I am, so deal with it, baby.

   All was good--I got on at Walmart full time, worked my way up to department manager of Hardware/Furniture/ and parts of Domestic.  Gary and I got married and he adopted Snowden, making her his  official daughter.  My little brother Jonathan married his long time love, Debbie Cox, and my other little brother and his long time girlfriend, Jennifer Novak began planning a wedding for the next year.  So much was happening that when I started to feel really sick after Halloween 2011, I thought it was a flu that I just couldn't shake.  By the week before Thanksgiving I had to simply give in and see the doctor.  He came back with "Your kidneys have failed."  I sobbed on the way to the hospital.  My father had spent three years on dialysis before he passed away and I saw what treatment did to him each time he went.  I was friggin 36 for Pete's sake!!! This was not in my grand scheme of life.  I had to leave my job, file for disability, and try to get better.  There was not "get better" for me on dialysis.  I just couldn't seem to get it straight--always too much fluid would get pulled off, I went through 3 catheters in my jugular within three months, and three surgeries to create a fistula in my left arm.  I worked on getting on the transplant list at Via Christi in Wichita, but at the last day for my interview they closed the program down at Via Christi, and I was lost.  So angry and frustrated, my awesome cousin convinced me to start training for my first half marathon.  I had been running when I felt good on non dialysis days, so I gritted my teeth and trained.  I was tired of putting my life on hold.  At the Prairie Fire Marathon in Wichita in 2012 I made it in just under three hours and I was so proud of myself.  I started to feel like an old tiger that still had her teeth, despite all of her scars.  I trained for another half marathon and listed on the transplant list at St. Johns in Tulsa.

   Life happens constantly.  My husband blew out his knee with an AK 47 (it accidentally discharged--misfire) and I was thrown into balancing dialysis and caregiver.  I was stretched thin, and postponed my spring half marathon to the fall Prairie Fire half marathon.  After a couple of months and a stubborn man blessed with healing and determination I got the call from St. Johns that they had the perfect kidney for me.  It wasn't exactly the best timing for me, but I couldn't say no to a better life--you just go with God's flow!  I spent 3 1/2 days in the hospital and 5 days in a motel so I could do daily lab work.  And let me tell you, I felt amazing after waking up in ICU after the surgery!!! I wanted to get out and start training for my fall half marathon as soon as my incision was healed, but the docs held the reins pretty tightly.  The day I was released to run again I went home and ran two miles.  Ran/walk, because my left side is still pretty weak, due to the doctors completely cutting through my abdominal muscles so that they could connect my new kidney.  My husband had pushed himself taking full care of our girl, and I am glad that I was feeling better because he needed my help to rehabilitate his back as well as the knee cap-less leg.

And that's where I am at now...a lifetime later it seems.  And if you read this whole blog you probably feel that you just lost a lifetime as well.  (Ha, ha! But, seriously.) I have seen terrible things throughout the twelve years since 9/11, both in the outside world, as well as my own inner sanctum.  And I think that we have all came out of these past twelve years stronger than we were before them.  It's what we Americans have always done--taken terrible events and used them as a ladder to take ourselves to a higher plane.  It is only when we let the horrible drag us under in despair and loss of self that we let the event take control of our life and we lose the vital part that makes us great.  God has made us with every possibility of greatness, how can we fail with God at our side?
 

A Letter That Needs to Be Written...

Dear Body,

   I am writing to you today to apologize in a manner of speaking.  I have been rather disrespectful and unappreciative of you in the past.  All of my life you have stayed in the fight, and remained with me despite the choices I made.  I could have passed away several times:  overdosing on blood pressure pills when I was 1 1/2 years old, my first pregnancy when I went straight to eclampsia and HELP syndrome, and when I was too stubborn to go to the doctor when my kidneys shut down and I was TOXIC when I finally got medical attention.  I probably deserved to die, because I didn't treat you better as I grew up.  I was constantly trying to lose weight, to fit into clothes that were never realistic for my body type.  I drank and I smoked, trying to fit in with people that didn't fit in with me.  I didn't appreciate the miracle that you are, the gift from God that keeps fighting for survival in each situation that I encounter.  But I do now.

  You have stood by me and refused to quit.  The first day that I did dialysis in Via Christi in Wichita was by far the worst that I ever felt.  I had a tube rammed under the skin in my neck and shoved into my aorta, and the medicine made me vomit continuously all the way to the chair.  The iron in the blood made me even more nauseous, and I was ice cold the entire time, shivering violently as the blood circulated through the machine.  When I did get out of the chair and into the wheelchair I passed out cold.  I wept when I reached my hospital room, it was the most horrible day that I could have experienced.  It was also the first and the last time that I had seen tears in my husband's eyes.  It was the only thing that could make me laugh, because that man never cries.  But you didn't desert me, you didn't give up.  Even when I had berated and abused you because you didn't fit into skinny jeans, or take responsibility for not taking charge of my health sooner, you fought on.

  Together we became better through constant dialysis and surgical procedures.  I learned what made you feel better through diet and treatments.  And when the transplant institution at Via Christi closed down just days before my final interview to get placed on the transplant waiting list, you trained with me for my first half marathon at the Praire Fire that fall.  WE did not give up, WE decided to alter our expectations and do more than survive.  WE fought to enjoy life, and all the blessings and people that were in our lives.  We didn't make the waiting list just then, but we made it later and shortly after we were blessed with a kidney.  And boy, oh boy, did you and that kidney just fit together like PEAS AND CARROTS (as my favorite Forrest Gump would say.)

  I want to promise you something, body of mine.  I promise to appreciate everything you do for this team...pushing yourself to recover from the surgery, and striving for excellence as we work to rebuild what we had worked so hard to achieve before the surgery.  No more will I try to fit into a certain body mold, or insult the shape you are today.  So what if I don't fit into a certain size? So what if my left arm looks like a large caterpillar lives under the skin near a vivid scar that runs from my elbow to armpit?  So what if I have two different cesarean scars on my abdomen now from different surgeries??? We are a BEAST! We are a survivor, and we will be proud and thankful for every breath that we use in each day.  Thank you for sticking with me after all, I promise to make sure you don't regret it. :)

My Happy One Month Anniversary

   July 21st was my official one month anniversary of receiving a new, healthy kidney.  I was incredibly blessed that the kidney worked so well and so quickly in me; I spent very little time in the hospital after the transplant.  My labs have been wonderful, and I have kept up with all of my medications, even throwing back a handful by the end of the first month like a pro.
   However, I have had some real emotional issues...it could be the high doses of Prednisone I'm on right now, or it could very well be that I have been restricted from my beloved running.  The mere exercise of running kept my head up through the ordeal of dialysis, and kept me in a positive frame of mind.  And I can't run yet...the left thigh/hip is extremely weak from the cut muscles on my left side.  I just want to cry sometimes, and it's ridiculous, because I have been given so much.  But running wasn't just exercise, something to do, it was my therapy, my mental relief for when everything became too much.  When my anger grew to rage I could tie my running shoes on and grab my mp3 of favorite running songs and fly down the road until my anger cooled and I gained some perspective.  Now that release is missing, and I'm not a very nice person at times.  
   So here it is...I am going to fight this furious rage with something positive.  I will spend more time reading the Bible...it always tends to calm me.  I will find some kind of deep core exercises to work my body into exhaustion so that when I can I will be able to run, I will run even better than ever.  And if I ever get snappy with any of you, feel free to put me in my place.  I need a wake-up call every now and then.  Because I am truly blessed, I just need to find another way to achieve inner peace for now.  And if any of you have any suggestions for me...feel free to share.  To inner peace!

I Truly Feel Like I'm ALIVE!!!

For those who haven't heard, I am the blessed and lucky recipient of a kidney.  A fully-functioning, healthy, perfectly matched kidney.  As my team likes to say, I won the organ lottery when it comes to my kidney.  And I thank God every day that he decided to bless me with another chance at living the fullest life possible.  I know I didn't do a thing to deserve this opportunity, it is a rare gift, and I will do my best to honor such a gift.

I woke up like any other morning--up at 6 am to get my daughter ready for her last day of summer school for the week and getting ready to run after walking her down to the end of the driveway.  I had just recently got my new fuel belt I had ordered from Amazon, and I couldn't wait to try it out on a medium distance run.  The run was beautiful--the air was rich with the smells of clean grass, and freshly overturned field earth, and I drank it all in.  When I do dialysis it would drain me, so when I recovered enough for a run the next day, I was grateful!  I did most of the run without stopping (had a slight bathroom break) and got back in good time.  I don't know why I checked my phone immediately, but I did, and saw that I had missed a call from Oklahoma.  When I called the number back I assumed it would be the transplant office calling me to confirm my August appointment.  You can only imagine my surprise when I was told that I had an "offer" of a kidney from Florida.  I was in shock, and couldn't believe it at first.  I had pretty much resigned myself to making a life for myself in the routine of dialysis and surviving.  I was a baby--I started crying and laughing like a crazy woman.  My mom and I ran around the house packing bags in a hurry, trying to remember every essential thing that we just might need, and also trying to hurry.  I had showered, and my head was in the clouds.  Gary stayed home to take care of our daughter, Snowden, and focused on holding down the fort while we went to the hospital.

At the transplant office I was informed I needed to get my blood tests and an EKG.  We ran all over that hospital campus, and we didn't get to eat our lunch until about 2 pm.  If I had known the doctor was going to be so strict, I would have been gulping buckets of water the entire time, but as it happened, I was an idiot, and suffered greatly after being admitted to the hospital and discovering I couldn't drink a drop of water, let alone suck on an ice chip.  That did not go over well...and why do they think a SOUR NASTY lemon glycerin swab is going to help??!!!  Let's just say, I think the nurses were looking forward to knocking me out at 10 am the next morning for surgery.  The doctors and nurses at St. John's in Tulsa were amazing!!! I actually went in to the surgery on time, despite a last minute decree from the anesthesiologist that I needed to take a pregnancy test before surgery.  I laughed all the way to the bathroom with my pee cup.

When I woke up, I was in the adult ICU.  I INSTANTLY felt better--normal, somehow.  I was talking a mile a minute to anyone who was in the room with me.  My brothers and sisters-in-laws (sisters) came down to be with me after the surgery.  EVEN my nieces came in and said how-do-you-do, which was a very nice surprise.  I talked so much that I stressed my newly cut abdomen muscles (the old c-section bikini cut) and I need a pain shot.  But it was worth every bit of pain.  I couldn't believe how well I felt.  The surgeons were surprised at how quickly the kidney "woke up" inside of me.  The surgeon told me that it instantly "pinked up and started working right away" as soon as he had made all the necessary attachments.  In fact, I was released from the hospital 3 days later, late Monday afternoon.  But we still had to stay in Tulsa due to daily lab draws and meetings at the transplant clinic, so Mom and I got a room at the Inn at The Expo Center (next to Big Splash).  That motel was great, I couldn't have asked for a better set-up.  Mom and I couldn't wait to get home, though.  We knew Gary was struggling with his back and knee problems and being Mr.Mom and Old McDonald at the same time.  In fact, I know he was pushing his luck, and his knee.  So--after a week of my impatience, and steadily healing body, the doctors released me to go home Friday after my labs were drawn, and that they were confident I wouldn't mess up the large amount of medications I had to ingest twice a day.

I have been cranky, and temperamental, mainly due to hormones and high amounts of prednisone, but I have always felt such a deep gratitude for the absolute awe-inspiring blessings that surround me and my family.  I cannot believe how normal I feel now, I actually have body heat now!!!  It has made me realize just how sick I was, even maintaining good labs and a good dialysis routine.  I can't wait to run again...I did a light little jog to test how I felt, and I know it will be amazing when I heal enough to engage in that activity again.  I plan on being able to get together with my sis, Chelle, and travelling to do runs together, now that I am not tied down to a dialysis chair.  I have decided new kidney, new rules.  I hadn't actually enjoyed a glass of wine for about a couple of months before the transplant (because of serious running and ab training) and I feel that to honor such a gift, I will just leave off any alcohol.  I want to keep a good diet, which is a little more difficult, since all vegetables and fruit have to be cooked before I can ingest them.  No fresh lettuce salad for me, but I will steam all kinds of fresh veggies!  So many things have happened in such a short amount of time and I have definitely been overwhelmed at times.  But with so much wonderful love and support from family and friends, I do not fear the future.  My heart has expanded so much, I feel that it might burst from my chest at times.  I thank God for being with me in every valley and mountain I have encountered, and for giving me such a supportive base of family and friends to walk the path with me.  I thank everyone for being patient and supportive of me, even when I didn't deserve such unconditional love.  THANK YOU!! Remember, we are all LIVING this life, no matter what we face, and we should be thankful for each breath that continues the blessings of our lives.

The Book of Job Can Be Read in Every Life

     Many times in life we encounter things that we do not understand.  Experiences that try our mental and emotional well-being are the most dramatic in our lives.  No one doubts God's plan when everything is wonderful--it is when we are slapped in the face with the dark reality of life that we may falter in our faith.  When we lose a loved one, or see someone close to us struggling against insurmountable and painful odds we tend to cry out in despair to God. We demand to know God's plan, or his reasons why we suffer.  Why do good people find themselves in bad situations, when so much evil is allowed to prosper in our world?
      The book of Job describes intimately the depth of suffering that could befall on a good and up righteous servant of God for no apparent reason.  Job is blameless, and good in God's eyes, but his friends do not understand the reason for God's neglect of Job.  Why does Job suffer, if not because he is wicked and sinful?  All they can do is console Job poorly by claiming that God only punishes the wicked and rewards the righteous.  "Think now, who that was innocent ever perished?  Or where were the upright cut off?" (Job 4:7)  I can think of many times, Eliphaz.  Recently our nation suffered through several occasions of heavy violence--the shootings at Sandy Hook Elementary being one.  What wicked thing could those innocent children be blamed with?  The answer is that they were blameless, and yet they suffered, as well as their family.  Most of the time we tend to blame sinful events on the "bad" people.  However, we all sin--even with the example of Jesus to follow we tend to stray from the path of righteousness.  We are not blameless or as dedicated as Job in his faith.
     Yet, even though Job felt the walk he shared with God was good, and he had not erred in God's  commandments, his friends argued against his claims of blamelessness.  Sometimes our friends can also be an obstacle in our walk with God.  When we find ourselves in a difficult situation that we do not understand, our friends might try reasoning the circumstances.  "Have you been going to church enough?  You must not be praying enough.  If you REALLY believed in God's absolute power, he would heal you completely."
     I heard that last one when my kidneys failed, and it bothered me.  I know it was said by someone who was indeed faithful and most assuredly up right in the Lord, but it was still a sucker punch.  At the age of 36 my kidneys had failed me, and everyone wanted to know why it had happened.  What did I do to bring this trial on myself?  I must have done something terribly wrong in order for me to go into renal failure.  If I TRULY believed in the power of God I could be healed.  I don't agree with such simplistic logic.  God did heal me--He gave me something more valuable than a perfectly restored physical body.  He healed my fractured soul, and took away the bitterness that had been taking refuge in my heart.  Instead of looking at all that had been lost, I was given the gift of sight.  True love found me and extended to include my family.  I lost a son, but gained a beautiful, intelligent, and artistic miracle of a daughter.  My father passed away, and our loss was great.  But his gain was infinite--he was going to attain the wisdom that escapes us in our physical presence; the knowledge he sought his entire life.  My father also left with me some valuable traits--the love of history, especially that of our family, and a stubborn spirit to challenge whatever comes my way.  Sometimes being stubborn can be negative, but when applied in the positive it is precious.
     Job was stubborn--even his "wise" friends could not convince him that he was wicked, and therefore aptly punished.  "Of a truth, God will not do wickedly, and the Almighty will not pervert justice.(Job 34:12)  It is not until God answers Job with a series of questions that humbles Job as well as satisfies him as to the depth of God's omniscience and power.  "Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?  Tell me, if you have understanding." (Job 38:4)  In the face of all that God has done and the responsibility of all living things and the environment Job realizes that he has no right to question the plans of God.
     Who am I then, to question the power and plan of God?  The terrible tragedies that we see in our lives, as well as the everyday struggles that we face cannot be made sense of.  How can anyone set the perimeters of God's intercession in all things?  God is in everything--the good and hopeful in our lives as well as the terrible and heart-breaking.  We must accept that God's plan for us is all-encompassing and interwoven with each other.  The choices that we make in our faith are the center of our relationship with God.  Choose to be bitter about the struggles in your life and you choose to step away from a loving relationship with God.  If we cling to God through both good and bad times in our lives, we are given the realization of a true and deep love that holds us up through all of the difficult times.
     God gave me such a gift when my kidneys failed my body.  He has shown me that with his strength and love I can fight the good fight.  I can thank him for the joys that bring me internal peace--the love of my family and friends, the fellowship of my family in faith, and the stress-relieving ability to push my physical body to become stronger every day I am given.  Every breath I take each day is a blessing and a chance to gain a more personal relationship with my Savior each day.  The knowledge of the depth of God's love is incomprehensible, but what part I can understand will carry me through all the days of my life.

I pray that according to the riches of his glory, he may grant that you may be
strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit, and that Christ
may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love.
I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the
breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpassesknowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. (Ephesians 3:16-20)

Fumes of Freedom: Part Two

     Dan shifted uncomfortably, holding his fingers to the eye Jenny had directed her hit towards.  "It's your fault.  I wouldn't have done it if you had fixed a decent supper."  His voice took on a belligerent tone.
     Jenny silently walked to the garage and gently laid little Lucky inside of her dad's old car.  She drove off, ignoring Dan's angry shout.  The veterinarian's office wasn't far away, yet she sped through the few stop signs that obstructed her momentum.  Luckily for her, Airedale police hardly ever patrolled the back roads.
      When she arrived, the vet was just about to leave.  She hailed him quickly and showed him Lucky's knife wound, and the knife laying on the plastic car mat where she had placed it.
      "It's a good thing you caught me when you did, Jen.  I was just about to go home."  He smiled kindly and gathered Lucky in his arms.  "Let's take care of the little pup."
     The waiting room was empty and the vet offered her a seat.  He had known Jenny ever since she had gotten Lucky as a puppy, and he knew a little about her home life.
     "This is going to take a while."  He shook his head sadly.  "Was it that louse, Dan?"
     "Yes," Jenny replied woodenly.  "He was drunk and he got mad about me not fixing him a decent supper."
     "I'll get to Lucky now.  After we patch him up, you and me will call the police."
     Jenny nodded quietly and collapsed into a chair.  All she could think about was the hatred she felt for Dan.  Too long had she stood under his oppression.  Finally she had the courage and the strength to do something about it.  It was finally time.  She walked to the bathroom and opened the window.  After flushing the toilet, she squeezed out of it and ran to the car.
     Once there she realized that the distance between the clinic and her house wasn't that far.  She could quickly run that distance easily.  The cold air bit her nose and tears ran down her face as the air stung her eyes.  By keeping a steady pace and running through pastures, she arrived at her house in all of ten minutes.
     When she entered the garage she noticed Dan's diesel truck was still there.  She smiled as a plan began to form in her mind.  The garage didn't have any windows and was completely void of junk because there was no room with three vehicles that were usually parked inside.  A perfect chamber for her plan.
      Jenny pulled on her brown leather gloves and crawled into her truck.  Dan had been foolish enough to leave his keys in the ignition.  She turned the key, bringing the engine to life.  After she carefully slipped out, she locked both doors and slammed them shut.  There was no way he was getting into the truck.
     Dan weaved into the doorway that joined the garage to the house.   "Wh-what the heck are you doing?" He mumbled in a disjointed effort to get his words out.
     "I told you to leave when you had the chance.  Now you're gonna be mighty sorry you didn't take my advice."  Jenny smiled wickedly as she eyed Dan's inebriated condition.  He was going to make it so easy for her.  So very easy.
     Dan stumbled down the steps, barely keeping himself upright.  "What are you going to do, Stupid? You can't do anything to me!"
     Jenny put both hands on his chest and shoved him as hard as she could.  He flew backwards into the truck and slid to the floor.  He smiled and muttered, "Yeah, you are stupid," before he passed out.  She smiled and looked down at his unconscious form.  "I'm not exactly the stupid girl you thought I was."  She locked the adjoining door to the house from the inside of the garage as she left.  Already poisonous carbon monoxide filled the garage in a choking cloud.
     "Happy Birthday, Dan," she laughed with an evil grin stretched from ear to ear.
     She took off back to the veterinarian clinic using her short cut and crawled back into the bathroom window.  Blowing her nose, she rubbed her eyes until they were red and swollen.
     Leaving the bathroom, she picked up a magazine and plopped down into a chair.  The vet smiled as he entered the waiting room.
     "Your little dog is going to be all right.  He'll have to stay overnight for observation; nevertheless, he's doing great."
     Jenny gave a relieved smile and hugged the magazine close to her, picturing her little friend safe and sound.   "Thank you!  I really appreciate you taking care of him even after closing time."
     "Jenny, I've known you since you were five.  Don't worry about it.  If you want, you can wait until Lucky comes out of the anesthesia, and then we'll contact the police."
     Jenny jumped up and hugged him, and ran into the small operating room.  Lucky lay still, a bare shaved spot with ugly black stitches marking his wound.  Her heart leaped in fear when he showed no sign of movement.  But then a small stub tail began to wiggle, and Jenny kissed the small black nose.   "Don't worry, honey.  Everything is going to be fine."  She gently massaged his fuzzy muzzle, and kissed him once again.  "I have to go home now, sweetie.  I'll be back tomorrow and then we'll both go home."  Lucky whined his understanding and Jenny returned to the waiting room.
     The veterinarian made the call to the police and Jenny went to the police station to file a report. When she finally left, she had established an iron-clad alibi and couldn't stop smiling.  She couldn't wait to formally hear of Dan's passing.
     The police escorted Jenny to her house in order to question and arrest Dan.  Jenny waled into the house and led the police to the living room.  She noticed the police looking at the piles of beer cans.
     "Dan! Where are you?" She called out, keeping back the smile that wanted to appear.  She knew where Dan was.
      "Miss, maybe he left.  What kind of vehicle does he drive?"  One of the policemen inquired gently.
     "It's a brown junky Ford diesel.  But he was totally smashed and I don't know if he could handle driving."  Jenny tried to look concerned.
     "Well, let's take a look at the garage," suggested another police officer.  "Maybe he's there."
     Jenny nodded and led the way to the garage.  When the officers tried to open the door they found it was locked.  Confusion was etched on Jenny's face.  "I don't understand.  This door is never locked.  We usually keep the outside garage door locked.  Never this one."
     The officer looked at each other and nodded their heads in a silent code of agreement.  "Maybe it's best you stay here, Miss.  We don't know what we'll find in there."
     A look of fear crossed her features.  "What do you mean?  Do you think--?"
     One officer gently guided her aside.  "We're going to break down the door.  You need to stand back."
     Jenny stepped back as meekly as she could, looking horrified that the mere situation the officers were insinuating could happen.
     "Poor girl," whispered one young officer.  "I'm going to hate to break this to her if we find what I think we're going to find."
     The door flung open as the officers kicked it in.  Instantly the exhaust filled the entry way, causing the officers and Jenny to gasp for air.  One of the officers ran into the garage and broke the truck window to turn the diesel off, while the other one opened the garage door with the wall remote.  The older officer bent over Dan and shook his head wearily.
     "He's gone."
    Jenny screamed and ran into the living room where she sank to her knees and shook violently.  The young officer draped a lap quilt over her shoulders and tried to comfort her.  If only they realized, Jenny thought to herself.  She couldn't stop shaking as excitement flowed through her body.  The officer who comforted her was really handsome and she enjoyed the close proximity they shared.
     "Apparent suicide.  He was so drunk that he probably went through some alcohol-fuelled depression.  It looks as if he locked the doors of the truck and garage so it would be hard for any one to stop him."  They turned to Jenny.  "We called your Mom at her workplace.  When she gets home, tell her we need her to fill out some paper work."
     "Yes, sir," she whispered, as if in shock.
     After the policemen and coroner left, Jenny went into the kitchen and sat down.  When her mother came in the door she calmly told her the news.
     Her mother sat still for a while.  "It's about time.  What took you so long?"
      Jenny frowned. "I didn't marry the loser.  You were supposed to handle him.  He tried to kill my dog. Actually, it was perfect timing...an appropriate birthday gift."
     They grinned at each other and her mother smiled.  "For once you did something right. What are you going to do now?"
     Jenny grinned slyly.  "I figure I have some overdue shopping to work on."
     Agnes snickered quietly.  "Yeah, now you can stop being a good little girl in jumpers and I can start spending the louse's inheritance."
     "Who would have thought lazy old Dan could be worth so much money?"  They both giggled and went into the living room to watch the late movie, singing "Happy Birthday" all the way.

                                                           THE END

(By the way, I think this was a creative writing assignment and I was trying to explore the vengeance concept.  I do not approve of any kind of violence or murder.  I'm really a sweetie with a devilish imagination.)