I know the secret to a happy life.

     Several months ago I wrote a post that is kind of depressing.  Recently I re-read it and I was surprised at my outlook.  It is hard to see how far I've come when it is in our (humans) nature to live in and for the moment.  When we do this we miss out on the important life lessons that have brought us to that point.  I am very grateful to have started writing this blog.  I started out writing for me, a kind of journal to track my progression or regression in this portion of life.  It only fits then that I have learned so much from reading my own writings.  Looking back to a year ago when I had to quit my job because of my condition, I see a totally different person.  I see a person that was trying to cope with the disability, and worried about how to take care of his family. I see the burden he carries, and feel for him.  If he only knew what I know now, how to be happy.
    So let us begin with what makes us as humans happy?  Is it A) Money? B) Power? C) Fame? D) Intelligence?  Or is it  E) combination of them all?  I argue that it is none of the above!  Unfortunately in our economic structure money is a necessity.  What if we could get the things we needed without money, would we want it still?  Probably not, so money is a representation of the things we purchase with it.  Food, clothing, shelter, transportation, entertainment, and health are but a few options to spend our money on.  So if we have the things that money buys does that make us happy?  History tells us no.  The more "stuff" we have the more stuff we want.  How many people have everything money can buy, but their life is in shambles?  I look at some of the athletes that have it all, or the actors that are adored, and I see a facade.  I see that longing in their eyes for something more.  The next fix.  Some how our society has become drug addicts, literally and metaphorically.  We are addicted to money and materials.  Every waking moment for most of us is spent making money, preparing to make money (schooling), or thinking of ways to get more money. 
     Let me illustrate why money isn't what I want or need to be happy.  This last week my wife and I filed our taxes and were somewhat shocked at how little we made last year.  Together we made 1/6th of the prior years earnings.  1/6th!! Less than a low end new car's price tag.  We had do sell furniture, electronics, and majorly reduce the lifestyle we once had.  I'm not saying that money isn't required to live, but collecting large amounts of it to put into an account, or spending it on unneeded items isn't in my plans at all.  As you can imagine this put a lot of stress on my wife and I at first.  Then over time as we slowly got used to going without, we noticed that we didn't miss those things at all.  We had to cut turn cable TV off and lower the data plan on the phones.  We sold some video game systems, and generally cleaned out our collection of the things the "Jones" said we needed.  Well I am not normal and don't want to be normal. I want to be peculiar and a rebel.  Not a rebel without a cause mind you.  A rebel in the sense that I don't want the same as the rest of America, or the world for that matter.  I want what God wants for me.  I want family connections, not to be connected by gadgets.  I want harmony in the home, not TV.  I want the freedom of life, not the slavery of circumstance.  I am slowly moving toward that goal one day at a time.  The way I changed my outlook is I gave up a lot (still working on all) of my wants.  I decided to try to do exactly as the prophets and disciples in the scriptures did.  They speak of joy even as they were persecuted and mocked.  How is that?  How did they become content and peaceful with the life they lived.  The answer is they made their will the will of the Father.  Right now the will of the people is for gain.  What is in it for me, why should I submit to His will.  That is today's mentality. This thinking hasn't worked for millions of us.  Why do we keep seeking inanimate objects that neither uplift or comfort our souls?  Because we want freedom to choose, to do as we will with our lives.
     As a child of nine years I really wanted to go to the pond behind my dad's house to shoot at the fish with my BB gun.  I asked my dad, and he repeatedly told me no. Thinking I knew better, my brothers and I went anyway.  About 30 min, and several fish later, I learned to listen to my dad.  Someone else had the BB gun and I was the spotter.  I would point to the location of the fish in the pond for the shooter.  The very second that I pointed to a fish, the shooter shot at it and the pellet penetrated the palm of my hand and lodged between the knuckles.  The moment my brain pieced together what had happened, I knew my father was right.  Nine year olds need supervision to shoot BB guns.  Needless to say, a surgery and a few stitches later, reminded me to listen to the voice of one with experience.
     Who has all the experience in the world?  Who has felt every pain, sorrow, disappointment, fear, and loneliness of every soul ever to walk the earth?  Our Lord and Savior, even Jesus Christ the Son of God.  What did he ask of us while he was on earth?  He asked us to keep the commandments and to love the Father.  Why would he ask us this?  To put us in bondage?  To make us serve him for his gain?  Never.  Never ever.  He commands us to protect us and give us purpose.  A purpose that will fill us with more joy and contentment in our duty than any other action or activity that this world can provide.
    I am poor.  I am disabled.  I am looked down upon for my status, and station.  I am also most definitely Happy.  I strive to do as the Lord commands me.  I read, pray, attend church, and try to do my absolute best.  Having decided to take this route, I have had to make major changes in my life to accomplish this goal.  I no longer smoke, drink, watch filth, or break the sabbath.  I attend my temple as often as health and time allow.  I serve in my church to the best of my abilities.  I have family time that doesn't include staring at a phone, tablet, or TV.  I eat as healthily as possible.  I say this not to tell you how good I am, I tell you this because this is the formula that has caused me to finally see.  I know what this life is for, and I embrace the purpose of my creation.  To serve He who is mighty to save.  He who's love knows no bounds, and He who causes the Earth to submit to his will.  Do the laws of physics deny themselves to do their own will.  No they do not, they fulfill their purpose faithfully as we should do as well.  I am not perfect, and I have hundreds of thousands of miles to travel before I am anywhere near the start of that journey.  But I am a Son of God and joint heirs with Christ.  I need to act like it.
    So, you say you want to be happy?  Try this out for just a week and see the difference.  Strip yourselves of all worldliness, and strap on the armor of God, be counted as among his people.  Do good for others for no reason.  Give of your excess to the needy.  Have conversations with your Heavenly Father, real conversations not just requests.  Read and ponder his words.  Then stand still and know he is God.  I have no fame or power or money that you should listen to me.  I only have the testimony of the Holy Ghost as my witness that it is true.  I grant that he gives you the same witness as you seek peace and joy in this life.  I love my God. I love my Savior.  May their love rain down upon us in sheets as we follow the counsel of a perfect Heavenly Father, just as I should have to my earthly father.  Just as the prophets of old;  I delight in the scriptures, I delight in plainness, and I delight in my God. 
    
     
    

Life...Can't live with it can't live without it.

      Okay,  so I know I have been neglecting my obligations to this blog.  Life happens and sometimes we think we know what we need to know in a very short period of time. I thought I knew what I was supposed to learn, I was very far from it.  I started writing to help myself get all the thoughts out of my head, and put in a format to help me, and those who read,  realize what blessings I have received and what weaknesses need to be worked on.  It seems that I still have much to learn, and life is not finished with me yet. Nor I with life...

      After the trip to Vegas to see my sister off,  my family and I returned home in Coeur D' Alene.  We were in a mad dash to get everything we needed done before school started.  This is the first year that we will have all six of our kids in school at the same time.  Cherie was hired by Lifetouch taking photos of preschool age children.  She is doing a wonderful job and is getting high praise from her trainer and from the school directors.  Her job requires her to travel a couple times a month until they hire another photographer for the areas that she travels to.  The kids are doing great in school, most of them like school and look forward to the next day to start so that they can see their friends again. 

     We also received the results of the biopsy... Do you want to know what they said?  I am sure you do!  Officially I have Congenital Fiber Type Disproportion or CFTD.  What is CFTD you may ask well that my friends is the million dollar question.  I have read and reread the information my doctor gave me and anything I could find on the matter.  I don't think this is what ails me, lets see if you agree.  The following has been taken from WebMd.com.  I have marked the parts of this diagnosis that have raised concern for me.

"Congenital fiber type disproportion (CFTD) is a rare genetic muscle disease that is usually apparent at birth (congenital myopathy). It belongs to a group of muscle conditions called the congenital myopathies that tend to affect people in a similar pattern. Major symptoms may include loss of muscle tone (hypotonia) and generalized muscle weakness. Delays in motor development are common and people with more marked muscle weakness also have abnormal side-to-side curvature of the spine (scoliosis), dislocated hips, and the permanent fixation of certain joints in a flexed position (contractures), particularly at the ankle.  The diagnosis of congenital fiber type disproportion is controversial. The changes to muscle tissue that characterize the disorder can also occur in association with many other disorders or conditions including other congenital muscle disorders, myotonic dystrophy nerve disorders (such as spinal muscular atrophy), metabolic conditions, and a variety of brain malformations such as cerebellar hypoplasia. These conditions should be considered and excluded before a diagnosis of CFTD is made. Most patients with CFTD have no other affected relatives (sporadic). Some cases are inherited as an autosomal recessive or dominant trait. In one family, CFTD was inherited as an X-linked recessive trait."

     So in a nut shell, I have a disorder that also has all of its symptoms in common with some pretty severe diseases.  I was tested for the common Muscular Dystrophy strains, and that came up negative, so that is a plus!  On the down side I was not tested or the doctor did not rule out any of the other disorders that share the same symptoms.  I also find it concerning that I have very obviously lost all of my pectoral muscles.  The diagnosis says there is weakness, or loss of muscle tone but not the compete loss of muscle groups.  Hopefully I am not reading into this diagnosis.  I genuinely feel that I have been misdiagnosed, or there is just not enough research or information on CFTD to match it to my condition. 

     After the diagnosis I slumped into a depression.  I really wanted answers, and treatment so that I could resume a somewhat normal life.  I am having a very hard time finding value in myself.  I focused so much on the diagnosis as the beginning of the end of this chapter, but in reality I am in the start of another chapter, and the end is nowhere in sight.  I cannot hold a normal job.  I have to sit and stand at will to alleviate the pain in my back and neck and shoulders.  I cannot lift anything over about 5 pounds without difficulty and pain.  Easy chores like dishes, laundry, cleaning a bathroom are very taxing and I need a considerable amount of recovery time to complete these tasks.  If I do not have any pain management then it is even longer to recover.  I feel like I am a leech, and I am sucking the life blood out of my family.  I never thought that I would be here.  I do not have it as bad as some others.  I have a lot to be thankful for, and I know it will get better.  I don't know how or when, but it will get better.  I just have to find out what to do with myself now.  I have no idea of what I want to be now, I don't know what interest me anymore, or how to reinvent myself with the accommodations that I need.
   
    

    

Am I doing this right?

        I feel like Wiley Coyote.  He is hungry, all he wants is to survive. To make it to the next day, the next meal, the next cliff fall.  Wiley is doing absolutely everything in his power to reach his goal, his humble goal.  He doesn't ask for lavish restaurant food, or need rare delicacies to make him happy.  All he wants is the food source that he was created to eat, nothing more. (Sorry Roadrunner... that's you.)  How does Wiley obtain his goal?  By any and all means within his power!  He uses his intellect, his physical abilities, and patience.  He builds traps, and creates inventions to match the Roadrunner's speed.  What has he gained for his efforts?  30 years of hunger! (and possibly a doctorate in engineering)  I admire his will and dedication to his goals, but that doesn't fill his belly. (I will return to Wiley in a sec.)
        Yesterday at 9:30am I arrived at Deaconess Hospital in high spirits because for the first time in 6 months I have a real shot at getting an answer to my ailments.  I was a bit nervous, but so very excited to get it done.  Cherie was more worried than me I think.  I was called back by the nurse to change into my oh so flattering backless gown.  For the next hour or so I answered a plethora of personal questions about my health history and 10 times they asked if I knew what procedure was being preformed. "I am having a muscle biopsy on my left deltoid the size of my pinky finger." (gotta make sure they are doing the right procedure... no lobotomy for me yet!)  Finally I was wheeled to the OR and prepped for surgery.  The last thing I remember was a blood presure cuff tightening on my left leg.
        I awoke in a small room with a nurse hovering over me.  I felt great, like waking from the perfect nap.  I was ready to dress and go home, but the nurse had other plans.  She stated that I needed to recover for a hour to make sure there was no adverse reactions from the meds.  For some reason the anesthetic they gave me made me very feisty!  I felt so good that I told her thank you, but you can't keep me here against my will, I'm a grown man (I know that's debatable)!  Just as I was about to rip all the tubes and bandages off Cherie came in to check in on me.  I told her I was ready to go home to see the kids and the nurse wouldn't let me cause she is mean. With a confused look she stepped out to speak to the nurse about this behavior. (I knew Cherie had my back!)  I smugly waited for her to come back and help me out of there.  The second she came in the door I knew I was in trouble.  "Zachariah! (my trouble name) leave that poor nurse alone and let her do her job!"  With my head hug, I waited the last 45 min. until I was released officially.  In three weeks we should have a diagnosis!
        Upon returning home we went to work posting our project vehicles to raise money for bills, and to see my sister's missionary farewell next week.  I have a '87 Pontiac Fiero which runs, and a non running '76 Datson pickup that I posted on Craigslist.  I checked the Fiero to make sure it starts and drives.  I was hoping to get $1000 for the car and $300 for the truck.  As soon as I posted it I received a half dozen text from interested parties.  Wow!  We could have them sold in the morning and get bills paid before they get delinquent!  I had three potential buyers here this morning all at the same time and I felt that they would compete for the chance to buy the vehicles... if only the Fiero would start.  Two buyers left as soon as the new battery wouldn't take a charge.  The third stuck around and looked at the truck too.  Tears threatened to pour as he offered me $500 for both cars, a third of what I was wanting for the both together.  I wanted to tinker and fix it, but both of my arms are inoperable and I didn't have the strength to do it alone.  Reluctantly I accepted the offer.
        After signing the titles, and counting the money I went to my room and sobbed.  What more could I do to provide for my family?  Why would the car act up the moment it was selling?  I fell to my knees and poured my soul to my God, My loving Heavenly Father.  Money didn't appear out of thin air, or a millionaire didn't come drop a sack of gold on the doorstep.  I did however feel overwhelming peace.  I am $500 better off than I was, my "belly" would be full.  That, my friends is the difference between Wiley Coyote and me.  I asked for help.  I know I cant do it alone, I know the Lord has prepared people in my life to assist and uplift me if I but ask.  Praise be to him and his plan, I don't know what comes next and that is OK.  I am at peace, and my family will be fed.  Don't let pride keep you from blessings  that are waiting for you.
        Ask and ye shall receive, knock and it shall be opened unto you...
        

Smooth sailing from here on... Dang it, Here comes a storm!

        I've heard the expression; "Its darkest before the dawn." I was never quite sure of that, but I do know from my military and corrections experience that it gets coldest before the dawn.  There have been multiple occasions when I was on the graveyard shift and could see the sun light peeking over the horizon only to experience bone chilling cold before the full brightness was visible. That is precisely how I was beginning to feel as I returned home from surgery.  I could feel the cold envelope me, warmth and comfort was hard to find for a time.  I knew that things get harder when you try to make a change for the better, but had never really felt it personally.  Up until this point I had coasted through life as if being in the lazy river, floating along whereever the current took me.  Waiting for opportunities to come my way, never paddling or striving for anything better.  I was comfortable and comfort really means complacent.  I would justify my actions by saying "If I needed to change, God would make it happen."  Boy was I right, but not like I ever expected.   I was in dire need of a good swift kick to the nether regions, and I got a big one!
        The surgery went well, and I was home the evening of the incident.  I have patches of numbness throughout my forearm. The doctor said I may never get feeling back in those spots.  My pointer, middle, and ring fingers on my right hand are in a constant state of pins and needles as if they were slept on all night and wont wake up.  They are also numb on the outer skin.  They feel like somebody else's fingers when I touch them.  Swelling, dexterity, and range of motion are a constant obsticle, as well as my wrist cannot carry its own weight; it flops about with every movement. 
        I have always lived by the notion;"Don't ask others to do what you can do your self."  I was facing being almost completely dependent upon my wife.  She diligently helped me do the most menial tasks ; getting dressed, tying my shoes, bathing, retrieving dropped or forgotten items that I needed, and being my cab driver.  It also left her to do all the household chores and cleaning homes on the side for a few much needed dollars.  I learned patience and the value of receiving service with gratitude.  Cherie and I have experienced a closeness that I doubt we would've achieved with out this accident. (she truly is one of the great women of our time!)  Things were getting better even though times were very hard.  My children are helping around the house like never before.  My mother and Cherie both recommended blogging to get the words out and start healing the emotional scars. 
        The Lord truly can turn the bad and idiotic things we do to ourselves, into blessings and to help build his kingdom.  I am very grateful for that.  It is not all sunshine and roses, but i can see the light just at the horizon and can smell the sweet fragrance of peace and love not far off.  Since this incident I have quit smoking, and study my scriptures almost daily.  I strive to keep the sabbath day holy more so than I ever have before.  I am slower to anger and less argumentative.  I say this not to boast, but to show what I am willing to do to have His grace with me and my family.  I testify that he lives and knows each of us and he weeps with us during our dark times.  He also rejoices in our gains, and our personal triumphs.  I couldnt have known this joy if not for him and your support, yes you! 
     Tomorrow I am having a muscle biopsy to determine what is causing the muscle wasting, your prayers are felt and I thank you.  More to come after surgery, tune in next time, same Zach time same Zach channel!

       

Broken

      I was laying on the hospital bed waiting for the doctor to arrive and decide what was needed to be done to fix my shredded arm.  Nurses, Phlebotomists, and billing personnel came in and out asking questions and reading screens, while I tried to hold back the tears.  I was not crying from the pain, or for my situation.  Tears poured down because in that moment I realized I had neglected one thing that could have prevented this whole situation.  I was too prideful to admit that I needed help in dealing with my disorder and with the emotional shock of everything that was going on; No insurance, a genetic disorder that could possibly have been passed to my children, loss of my job and any way of supporting my family, and now I may lose my right arm due to a silly accident.  I knew that if I had turned to my Heavenly Father, and reached out to my Bishop, or my family sooner then my family and I could have peace instead of the feelings of worry, fear, and despair.  I didn't want to tell my loved ones that I am weak and cannot do this alone.  I felt like Elsa from the Frozen movie; "Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know." 
         Feelings of anger also surfaced in that moment.  If the Lord does really love me, and does not give us more than we can bear, then why am I lying in this bed torn, teary, and tattered? Shouldn't the Powers of Heaven uplift me and allow me to see where I was going? Maybe even an Angel descending from the clouds to administer to me like the Saints of old. I felt an enormous amount of pressure at this time. I felt as if I was asked to do way more than I could do. I felt as if I was alone.
        As I was in this mental battle between humility and extreme pride, my wonderful wife came into the room. I was blatantly spewing these thoughts to her and anyone else who happened to be in the room. She really is wonderful, she listened to what  I had to say and encouraged me when I needed it, and cried with me when I cried. (And I know there is a lot of crying going on, but I was under the influence of morphine) A short time later, my Bishop and his Counselor came to give me a Priesthood Blessing. I don't remember exactly what was said, only that I knew things would get better. Not this instant or maybe not next week, but it would get better. I was reminded of a talk given in Stake Conference about how the Lord loves broken things;

"Broken clouds give rain
 Broken storms yield light
The break of day heals night
Broken pride turns blindness into sight
Could it be that God loves broken things?
And yet our broken faith and our broken promises
     Sent love to the cross
And still that broken flesh that broken heart of his
Offers us such grace and mercy
Covers us with love undeserving
This broken soul that cries for mending
This broken heart for offering
I'm convinced that God loves broken me
Praise His name my God loves broken things."
By Kenneth Cope

I was and still am broken. But through His love and mercy I am on the mend.

Out of the Frying Pan...

                   OK where were we... Oh yeah, no insurance. After having to quit my job I lost my employer insurance and I signed up for Medicaid. Cherie was working part-time with the promise of full time work, but that never came. Even though she was only part-time, Medicaid dropped her and I from the policy but kept the kids on, saying our income was too high. (like $800 a month is too high...?) So now we're in a bit of a pickle. If Cherie kept working we could bring home at least some money and hold out for a possible permanent position somewhere down the road, or she could quit her job make no money but I could continue with my diagnosis. Decisions, decisions.... Cherie and  I talked about it, prayed about it, talked to others about it, and I even talked to myself about it (again I didn't answer) and we decided the diagnosis was more important that the part-time work. It was very nerve racking, we were scared to lose our only source of income.
                   The day finally came for Cherie's last shift, she was excited and sad all at the same time. She had a later shift, and while she was getting ready disaster struck. To make a long story short, I was attacked by four panes of glass. They tried to eat my right arm up to my elbow. Narrowly missing vital blood vessels and nerves. I remember the instant it happened like it was in slow motion. I was viewing the whole incident as if I was a bystander. I could hear every crack of the glass, every rip of my skin. I pulled my arm out from the teeth of the window, and viewed a gruesome scene. I had three 3-5 inch gashes on my forearm and elbow. It really looked like a great white shark had just finished gnawing on my arm. My pointer, middle, and ring finger  were instantly numb. My wrist hung limply and blood dripped liberally down my arm onto the ground. Before the pain came I cried out in disgust at what had happened. I ran around the outside of the house to the back door, screaming for Cherie to call 911.

                   Those of you that already know me, know that I will not go to the doctor unless absolutely necessary. (I once waited 18 hours before going in for a burst appendix and another 6 hours for e-coli
poisoning) I was yelling for Cherie to grab a towel because of how much blood was dripping out. I feel so bad for her, she had no idea what had happened and I was demanding that she do three different things at once; call 911, get me a towel, and don't let the kids see. I was in so much shock that I was running around the house with Cherie at my heels begging me to sit down. I even ran to the next door neighbors and asked them to watch the kids. By this time the ambulance was pulling up along with a fire truck, and a few police cars. This is exactly what I need... Not only was my strength failing me, I completely wrecked my right arm. My dominant right arm.
                     As they loaded me into the ambulance my mind was with Cherie and the kids. Will they be OK? Were they frightened? Would they look at me the same? How could this happen? Luckily, I had some good paramedics that kept me calm and helped me keep my mind on the task at hand. "Can you feel this? Move your fingers for me. Don't think about that right now." I just kept thinking "OK guys! Put me out! MORPHINE!" But that didn't happen for another hour and a half...

Its a long dark road.... or is it?

     I just kept pushing everything away in my mind.  This isn't real, I am fine.  I actually feel fine most of the time don't I?  Nothing is wrong with me, I am strong, capable, able, and determined.  Nothing is wrong with me.  I survived the Army, and being outnumbered 200 to 1 as a corrections officer.  Nothing is wrong with me.  I climb mountains, and ride motorcycles, and do cool flips on the trampoline.  Nothing is wrong with me.  I fish, hunt, shoot guns, and love camping.  Nothing is wrong with me.  I chase snakes down their holes, and play pranks on people. Nothing is wrong with me...  If that is true then why does it hurt to sit without upper back support?  Why does my shoulder ache so bad that it wakes me from sleep.  Why is there constant pain in my pinky finger of my right hand, the same side as my shoulder?  Why is it hard to carry backpacks on my shoulders?  I am fooling myself.  The pain is there to tell me that there is something wrong.  What if I took medication?  Could I be normal then?

     I took every med I could to contain the pain and to appear as normal as possible.  I still had a good sized collection of meds from my military days.  Hmm, no pain now, but why is it hard to think?  All I want to do, or have energy to do is sit and check out of reality.  Why cant I think of words, and cant remember my train of thought?  Oh no.... I have no pain, but where is my brain.  I guess its "No pain, No Brain!"  Well phooey!  I can't hear my Heavenly Father's whispers.  I can't walk through the plant at work without major rest time afterwords.  I have to quit my job and focus on my health. I don't know what to do anymore.....  How did I get here?

    These are the things that I have said to myself and others. I tried to continue like normal with the new circumstances that I now have.  It was time to face the music.  Time to accept my path and move forward, but how and where was forward?  At this time the kids are still in school but only have a few weeks left.  I had to quit my job due to stress (which is said to accelerate my condition)  and the inability to be on the production floor as much.  Cherie was offered a job at the mall, and took it, but it was only part time starting out, with the promise of promotion soon because of her managerial experience.  The only thing left to do is get diagnosed!! Things may be OK I guess.  It cant get much worse than this.  I know there are millions of people in this world that have to go through much tougher, painful, sad, experiences than me.  I started to feel a bit better and almost proud that I would be chosen to take on this sort of trial.  I can do this and I will do this..... until our insurance was canceled.