Audrey Assad sings those words here, her voice softly yearning, her cry for God to deliver her from so many things all at once: the fear of being lonely; the fear of humility; the fear of death and dying. It is Psalm 23 all wrapped up in poetry and prose and lyrical music. It so elegantly describes the emotional and spiritual place my lymphedema has led me through—the place it is leading me through.
Going to the University of Michigan was not just an exercise in hope for me, it was an exercise in reversal. Having had lymphedema in my foot and then leg for 42 years has prepared me for disappointment and struggle. Disappointment that no insurance company seems eager to treat my leg; frustration that therapies used are often harmful to those with lymphedema; resignation that I will live with the way things are.
Until things aren't that way anymore. Through a wonderful turn of events, as described in post two, I found myself in three weeks of intensive physical/occupational therapy with an amazing therapist and a new machine I could literally feel working on my leg.
Here are the therapies:
- Manual Lymphatic Drainage. This is standard at most hospitals/treatment centers, and I have had it done several times before. It involves a massage drainage and wrapping your leg in bandages. It is always helpful, but it doesn't break up fibrosis accumulated when a patient has had lymphedema for a long time.
- Thor Laser. This is a newer tool, a cold laser, that offers a stronger and larger area of treatment than a handheld laser. It takes awhile to work, but it does seem to help some patients break up fibrosis—and it can even contribute to lymphangiogenesis, the process that stimulates new cells to work, improving lymphedema. A good adjunct treatment to MLD.
- PhysioTouch. This machine is where the magic happens. It comes from Finland, and it is a suction cup sort of device with a # of different sized suction cups a therapist can use in different spots, distributing negative pressure. When used on my leg, it would pull up and I could feel the lymphatics release. Wow. I attribute most all of the softening and breaking up of fibrosis in my leg to this wonder.
- Kinesio taping. This is sports tape cut to open up lymphatic channels, lifting fluid to move out, and I must admit, it also works. Particularly useful for me in taping it in areas where I don't have lymphedema to keep the fluid moving up and out.
- Inflamzyme Forte enzymes. I got this trick from a holistic lymphedema therapist in North Carolina. The digestive enzymes work to begin to soften fibrosis as well, and they keep your digestive system working swimmingly. Finished an entire bottle while in therapy.
- Exercise. Firstly, a lot of deep breathing while pushing on the abdomen is essential. This is the only pump in your whole body for lymphatic fluid. I could feel it moving when I did so, also helping to bring the fluid up and out of my leg. I also did a series of exercises while lying on a bed in bandages. I did water exercise 4-5 times; this is hands-down the best exercise for lymphedema. While bandaged, I also did short times on a stationary bike almost daily. (Lastly, while at home I use a chi machine for 15-20 minutes in the morning. It jumpstarts my lymph system, relaxes the spine, and generally makes me feel wonderful.)
As you can see, we were quite thorough. Although I still have some fibrosis in my lower leg, it is clearly diminished and things are working much better. If I kept going with the PhysioTouch/MLD, I'd probably get rid of all of it, but I'd still have lymphedema and need to wear a compression stocking.
For all of these gifts, I've been saying: thank you, thank you, thank you. One of my intentions for this year was to make a daily decision to embrace hope and joy. This therapy ushered me into 2015 with a smile. It was challenging, upending, and filled with moments of beauty.
For three weeks I lived in a home near the hospital filled with U of M patients and families. A pregnant mother under careful watch. A dear woman whose husband waits for a lung transplant. A man walking around with a new pancreas and kidney and a new lease on life. Two men undergoing cancer treatments, living in the tension between uncertainty and hope.
And while I sat among them, witnessing both their sorrow and their joy, I was reminded: each breath is a gift. Each embrace by friends and family a treasure. Each new morning designed for embracing, no matter the circumstance, no matter the pain or struggle.
We are to look for the joy, and somehow, amidst everything, God has designed us to find it.
The Lord is my shepherd, I won't be wanting. Not when I find my contentment and satisfaction in the right place. May it be so—for me, and for you.
May our heavenly Father, our Abba-daddy who loves us so, surprise you with joy this day. And the day after that, too.
Your turn: Have you hoped for healing in some way that took years or decades? How did you change as a result?