Letting Go and Letting Love

This is a story of lessons learned and letting go.  It is a story about what happened when I  put my words into action, even when that action was to do nothing.  It is a story about allowing myself to trust and the miracles that followed.  It is a story about getting out of my own way.

The story began two years ago when Jim, my husband, was diagnosed with end-stage kidney failure. It was a diagnosis that was to be taken seriously.  We  were told by a doctor that had Jim waited a few days longer he would have died.  Toxins had been swimming throughout his system for months if not years.  Unfortunately they have had long term effects, and I found myself taking on much of the responsibilities of our lives.  I do not tell you this in an attempt to praise myself.  Rather it is a confession.  I allowed his care to become a burden for me.  I was overwhelmed and consumed by it.  I lost sight of the fact that I was not personally responsible  for everything.  I forgot that I am surrounded by a powerful love that is sent from heaven.  I forgot about a bit of wisdom I found on a magnet at the beach a few years before.

"Do not think you are totally responsible for everything.  That is my job.  Love, God"

  Throughout the nightmarish times that followed his diagnosis Jim set a goal that sometimes seemed unreachable.  It became his touchstone.  He wanted to return to Italy to visit his family and friends there.  As we faced one crisis after another his question remained the same.  "Can I still go to Italy?"  And so I set out to make that happen. Yes, I thought all the responsibilities and challenges of his wish were up to me to figure out.

I raced from one thing to another, priding myself on taking care of it all.  I was so caught up in the demands that I did not hear the quiet voices of the earthly angels sent to us.  Among them were the voices of Jerry and Judi, a loving couple who was traveling with us.  They walked hand in hand and reached out those hands to help others.  More than angels, they were guardian angels who were at our side for the entire trip.

"How can we help?'
"We'll be there too.  Between all of us we'll figure it out."
"I can take care of it."

It is odd that I appreciated those sincere offers to help but still felt totally responsible for all that needed to be done.  There was much on my To Do List, and I had a constant voice running through my head.  

1. Order the dialysis supplies to be delivered to Italy.  Check
2. Locate back up clinics in Italy to care for Jim in case of an emergency.  Check
3. Notify the airline that he would need a wheelchair in the airport and help for boarding the plane.  Check
4. Clear with the airline that we would have his dialyzer with us as carry on luggage.  Get a copy of the letter explaining the need to do so.  Check
5. Get a copy of his medical records to carry with us.  Check
6. Get a converter so that the dialyzer would be compatible with the electricity in Italy.  Check

And so I zipped along with my attention being on the myriad of things that needed to be done.  My focus was on the responsibilities rather than the anticipation of a trip filled with joy that Jim so dearly wanted.  I was setting us up for failure.

Finally, in my mind, we were ready to go.  I had worked for months and patted myself on the back for a job well done.  Then the phone rang.  It was Monday, and we were leaving on Thursday.  The call was from the airlines.  It was the first of many calls that would be made that day.  Frustration and fear came barging in as uninvited companions on this journey.  They were not welcomed but were vital players in a valuable lesson I was to learn. 

The first call was to tell us that we would not be able to bring the dialyzer on the plane with us as carry-on luggage.  It was too big.  It would have to be checked.  When I tried to calmly explain that I had cleared this with the airline weeks before I was told that the person I had spoken with had no right to make that decision.  When I spoke about the need to have it with us in order to prevent the dialyzer becoming damaged or lost I was interrupted and told that it would need to be checked.  I was not quite so calm when I said that my husband's life depended on the dialyzer.  The answer came back that it was to be checked and not carried on.  I was in tears when I hung up.  I had been advised by Jim's health team that the dialyzer had to stay with us.  I was just plain scared.

I located a letter given to me by the dialysis supplier.  It stated that the DOT required that the dialyzer stay with the patient on the plane as it contains a lithium battery.  Jim called the airline back, and I left him to handle the conversation on his own.  I found him a few minutes later sitting at the table and looking very confused.  When he read the letter to the person he spoke with he was told, "I don't care what the letter says.  You cannot bring it into the cabin with you."  He was further confused by what followed.  He was told that if the dialyzer contained a lithium battery we not only could not bring it into the cabin with us, we were not allowed to bring it onto the plane at all.  What????

I reached for the phone and first called his health team at the dialysis center.  One nurse in particular began working on her end to resolve the matter.  I heard the same thing over and over throughout the day.  "This is unheard of.  It has never happened before."  Before the end of the day I had contacted everyone I could think of including our congressman and a hotline for disabled people traveling by air.  I slept fitfully that night worried that the very trip that was Jim's motivation for living was not going to happen.  What then?  Would he just give up?  If it was unheard of, then why was it happening to us?  I tossed and turned as the questions hurtled through my mind.

I woke the next morning and prayed.  I asked how to turn the situation around.  I asked what I was missing.  What lesson was I being taught?  I then quieted my mind and received a surprising answer.  STEP BACK!  I professed to believe that I am surrounded by a powerful love every minute of every day.  I now needed to put that belief into action.  I needed to stop trying to be all-responsible.  I needed to trust.  I needed to get out of my own way.  

I think I shocked the nurse who called a few minutes later.  She paused, perhaps searching for words, after I told her I was letting it go and putting it in God's hands.  I then began my day.  Within two hours a representative from the corporate level of the airline called.  An hour later everything was resolved.  The dialyzer would be brought into the cabin with us.  The lithium battery was a non-issue because it was encased within a medical device.  It gets better.

Once we had checked in at the airport Judi asked where we could get a wheelchair for Jim. She was directed to an area of the airport, but was stopped as she reached for one of the many located there. Someone from the airport needed to push the wheelchair.  They asked to see Jim's boarding pass.  When reading his name they exclaimed, "We've been waiting for you!"  Within minutes someone arrived with the wheelchair. Another person walked with us pushing our carry-on luggage to the gate.  Two others accompanied us through security, allowing us to skirt the long lines, and then waited with us at the gate.  They boarded the plane with us and ensured the dialyzer was secure and Jim was comfortable.  Upon landing in Rome we were again greeted by someone with a wheelchair.  He breezed us through passport control, and stayed with Jim while we arranged to pick up our rental car and were on our way.  Amazing things happen when I get out of my way.

That night we tried to set up the dialyzer.  The converter we purchased was not going to work.  The dialyzer needed to draw more power during its nine hour cycle than the converter could handle.  We needed a heavy duty transformer.  They are not easily available in Italy.  Family and friends gathered around to resolve the new challenge.  Then a member of our Italian family quietly spoke.  "I can make one."  Neither Jim nor I knew that he had gone to school to be an electrician, and his job was to keep all the machines in the plant where he worked up and running.  We did not know.  Another unexpected angel appeared when I got out of my way.

Later in the trip supplies that I had ordered weeks before did not reach our destination.  I took it upon myself to fix it as I phoned the supply company.  It was Friday night in Italy.  I was told the courier was supposed to deliver the supplies that morning.  No one knew why they had not.  Courier services do not work on weekends in Italy.  We would have to wait until Monday.  When I explained that I only had enough supplies for one night of dialysis I was told to take Jim to the hospital for treatment over the weekend.  I used the word unacceptable often during that conversation, but I still hung up with things unresolved.  I had not fixed anything.

Family stepped in.  There was a lively discussion in Italian which I could not follow.  It continued the next morning.  Phone calls were made, but not by me.  I stepped back.  In hesitant English, someone explained that they would go to the hospital and get what Jim needed.  It was not necessary that Jim be admitted.  They would bring the supplies to him.  There would be no fee charged.  As we finished our conversation an excited voice called to us.  A phone call was received.  The order was on its way. It was Saturday.  Couriers do not work on Saturday, but within an hour the supplies were delivered by a courier.  Amazing things happen when I get out of my way.

There were poignant moments throughout the trip.  I watched as Jim struggled to climb stairways in Italy.  His legs are weak, and for him those stairs that I had just bounced up must have seemed like mountains to be climbed.  There at his side was his friend who seemed to know exactly what to say to get him up those steps.  There were sometimes encouraging words and sometimes a bit of cursing.

  It was truly difficult for Jim to get up those stairs.  The effort he made to reach the top left him depleted.  As he struggled to climb those last few steps I would sometimes hear Jim mutter, "Oh God, please help me."  I had to smile when I heard Jerry's ready answer.  "That's it.  Keep praying.  Praying works."

Yes, praying works.  That is especially true if you just get out of the way and let love go to work.