There is someone very important to my story who I haven't talked about on this blog much, if at all. I heard a song (God Gave Me You by Blake Shelton) on the radio today and thought INSTANTLY of this man. It is more of a song from a husband to wife than anything else, but there are specific parts that made me think of this most amazing person. It was a reminder of the wonderful things he has done for me.
"God gave me you for the ups and downs; God gave me you for the days of doubt. Its true, God gave me you".
This person is my Uncle Roger, Alisa's brother, who happens to be a pastor. He moved to Washington (and really just several miles from our house) just before I had Gregory - which means he was here the night I was in the emergency room learning I would need exploratory surgery and that I was very sick.
As soon as the surgeon left the room after explaining his plan, I looked at my dad and said "Call Roger. Now."And like a miracle, he was there in no time at all. It was like he was dropped off by a helicopter specifically designed for demands like mine. "ROGER. NOW".
I believe that Roger saved me that day as much as the surgeon. I was terrified I was going to die in surgery. The surgeon had been clear that had we waited much longer I would have been in much worse shape (if that was even possible!), and they wouldn't have been able to help me at the medium sized hospital I was at. I would have had to be airlifted to a much larger hospital. I was sick.
Roger came and prayed for me and gave me strength I didn't know I had. My fear was gone. I was no longer afraid of dying. I felt only peace. I told Jason I wasn't scared anymore. That it would be ok (and by ok, I meant it would be ok if I died).
After that night, he came to stand by my hospital bed and pray for me several more times during my two week stay. He gave me strength for procedures that I knew were going to be painful. I was surprised that I'd made it through the surgery, to be honest, and wasn't sure if I wanted to be here since I was in so much pain. But every time Roger came, my pain left and I felt peace.
After I came home the depression and the PTSD started to take over. Roger's church just happened to be about a mile from our house. Jason started saying "You have to go to church tomorrow" every Saturday night. Jason isn't a particularly religious person however he saw that I'd come home with a renewed sense of hope after hearing Roger preach, when I'd wake up feeling like life wasn't worth living. This was during the times that I cried 7 out of 7 days and for several hours at a time.
I give a lot of credit to my being here to this amazing man I'm so lucky to have in my life. God gave me Roger for my days of doubt. For the down times; for the times I needed a reminder that there was something greater than me at work.
I still have some very very hard days. Days filled with doubt and fear and reminders of how sick I was. The thoughts of dying come back and I become afraid again. The PTSD is worse now than it has been in a very long time. I'm triggered daily by new things that I don't see coming and right now every day is a challenge at some point. I try to remember the feelings that I had when Roger was by my side and every now and then the same peacefulness washes over me.
I hope everyone has an "Uncle Roger" in their life. Someone who they can lean on in times of doubt, who can raise them up and give them hope.
So, to my Uncle Roger, thank you. You saved me. You are the MAN! Loves and hugs to you. You were here when I needed you the most and I can't help but selfishly believe you were sent to Washington, in part, to save me; to save my family and to give us all strength and hope during a time full of doubt, frustration and pain. You are a true gift.