Finding My Way

Scott shares about his life and faith through this blog. Most notably, he blogged throughout his neurosurgeries during Spring of 2012 with over 10,000 hits to the blog during that time period. He was featured (and his blog) in an article by the United Methodist News Service on May 18, 2012.

Resurrection & New Life: Power of Death & Resurrection

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Resurrection & New Life: Power of Death & Resurrection


image found at:  http://www.romanempiretours.com/

Left, Tou Yang

Today I invite to my blog Tou Yang who will be my guest blogger.  He will take a few minutes to give you some background on the Roman world and what Resurrection means to him.  Tou is a student at Garrett-Evangelical Theological Seminary and an intern at Christway United Methodist Youth Ministries.



The Power of Jesus’ Death and Resurrection In Everyday Life

The Roman Empire used violence as a way to control large populations throughout their conquered lands. One example of this violence was through crucifixion on a cross such as endured by Jesus. Crucifixion was not only seen as a consequence for not conforming to Roman law but it was also a form of humiliation to the individual and the individual’s family. This act was meant to oppress the very spirit of the people and to dehumanize the non-Roman citizens. This made Jesus’ crucifixion not only physically painful but also psychologically painful to the local population and Jesus’ family.  

Jesus’ resurrection was proved God’s victory over death but just as important it gave hope to the followers of Jesus that victory was possible in the face of Roman oppression. “Carrying the cross” was no longer something to be feared but instead became an empowering image and a sign of hope over the punishment of death. Even though Jesus’ movement was broken with the death of its leader it was made whole again both physically and spiritually by the news of Jesus’ resurrection from the grave. The fact that Jesus’ death did not mean the end of his believers or the end of Jesus’ ministry gave inspiration to future apostles such as Paul to share Jesus’ message with full confidence.

Jesus’ victory over the cross and oppression is still a powerful and relevant message for today. Everyday hundreds of millions people all around the world face oppressive social and political systems meant to destroy the will and beliefs of the individual. Through Jesus’ example there is hope for redemption and restoration even in the worst conditions. Not that suffering should be a part of life nor that oppression is needed to understand the resurrection of Jesus but that suffering and oppression is not the end of life. That even when we face the brokenness of everyday life no matter big or small we can be reassured of God’s ever restoring power and victory over oppression. The power of Christ’s death and resurrection is not only connected to an event that happened 2000 years ago or a future apocalyptic event but can be understood and relevant everyday of our lives.  That is the true power of Easter. That is the true power of the love of God. 

Resurrection & New Life: Is This Easter?

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Resurrection & New Life: Is This Easter?
Image found at:  http://www.canadianlutheran.ca/a-well-spent-lent-2/






Today I invite my wife to be my guest blogger here on “virtues.”  Rev. Carrie Carnes is the pastor at Chenoa United Methodist Church which is just 25 minutes North of Bloomington-Normal, IL.  She will graduate from Garrett-Evangelical Theological Seminary next month, although she finished her classes last summer and has been serving at Chenoa as a full-time pastor since.






This isn’t what Easter’s supposed to be like, is it?


Scripture:  Mark 16:1-8


Throughout Lent, we sang “Lord Who Throughout These Forty Days”.  It’s a great hymn about Jesus’ time in the desert. The hymn reminds us that when we are in barren places- Christ is with us. When we find ourselves in those wilderness places we often feel alone and it can be difficult to see God walking with us. During Lent we inspect pain, suffering and sin with the assurance that God is with us- and with the knowledge that Lent ends with Easter.
Scott and I had a rough Lent; especially the first part. We were in the wilderness. Scott had brain surgery in February. As we returned from the hospital and subsequent stay at the Berry Family Convalescent Home and Pet Boarding Center (what we call may parents’ house). I was ready to go. I wanted to dive right back in to everything. But then Scott got the flu and I had to find someone to fill in for me at the last second that first Sunday. We had to make unplanned trips back to St. Louis. Scott’s recovery plateaued. We were in the wilderness. I wanted so badly for things to be normal again but nothing seemed to be going right. Towards the end of Lent things looked up a little. I felt like I got my groove back. I felt refreshed and could feel the Spirit’s presence with me more and more. Holy Week was wonderful, and Easter Sunday brought such joy. I felt like I had lived liturgical cycle and was filled with new life. Plants and plans were budding. 
And then it happened. Scott started in with intense migraines again. We wound up back in the hospital Saturday. We were transferred back to St. Louis Sunday and informed that Scott needs yet another surgery. I feel like we went back to the beginning. Lent’s over. We’re not supposed to be in wilderness anymore! Lent is 40 days, so I found myself wondering: did we take a wrong turn? Have we gotten lost? Will we become like the Hebrews stuck in this wilderness 40 years?
After the news sunk in, and after a little sleep I began to feel a little more hope. I’ll admit however, that I’m not quiet ready to sing “Alleluias!“ just yet. Though in churches we rightfully celebrate the resurrection with great joy; if we take time to read Mark’s account of the resurrection noticeably absent is the joyous celebration. Mark instead describes the morning with great fear, showing us the darker side of the resurrection.The women have just witnessed their friend and leader crucified. All the other disciples have fled in fear and while the women have remained, it seems safe to assume that these women have remained not without fear- but despite their fear.  The women nervously venture up the hill to the tomb. They discover the tomb is empty and are greeted by this young man in the white clothes of a martyr. He tells them “Don’t be alarmed”- now he wouldn’t have had to say this if they weren’t alarmed would he? He instructs the women where to go to find Jesus, “…he is going ahead of you into Galilee”. In saying this he is sending the women back to the very place where the Gospel began- where he first called the disciples. I wonder if the women also thought, “So its like we’ll be starting back at square one.”  Then the Gospel ends with its final two chilling sentences, “Overcome with terror and dread, they fled from the tomb. They said nothing to anyone, because they were afraid.”
When I read that Easter passage, it’s hard for me to imagine lilies, Alleluias and the bright festivities. This passage is filled with challenge and dread. The women are not venturing out into the Lenten wilderness, but there is a terrifying journey that lays ahead of them. 
During Easter we celebrate the resurrection. The past couple of days have reminded me that Easter is not just about the thrill of an empty tomb and new dresses. While God is creating new life all around us, that life isn’t easy. It’s still filled with pain and challenges, disappointments and starting over. And some days that sucks. But just as we are assured that Christ is with us in our Lenten wilderness moments so too does that angel at the tomb assure us that the risen Christ has gone ahead of us. When we are faced with frightening new starts and begin tedious new journeys we can hear again the angel’s words, “You will see him there”.

The Roommate.

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The Roommate.

Last night was not so easy. My roommate is in his 70’s or early 80’s and turned his tv on by evening. Oh my goodness it was blasting. I had already asked to move rooms because of a noisy roommate and was determined not to have to again. I asked for earplugs and arranged for my medicine to be well-timed. My roommate turned off the tv at bedtime and I….couldn’t sleep. I had earplugs. I had drugs. I had an adjustable bed with plenty of pillows and blankets, but I didn’t have sleep. Oh, I’ve slept for a few hours here and there, but it wasn’t deep restful sleep. Then this morning my roommate called for help as he had messed himself. They did the neurological tests where they ask his name, birthdate, where he is at, etc. it was a new person asking him and they didn’t seem concerned, but I’d been listening all day and his answers were a lot slower and he covered with humor, but he had to think for a long time on somethings. In fact, he got the year and days backwards on his birthdate before quickly correcting himself.

I don’t know if it was the right thing to do, but I went against doctors orders and got up and walked on my own to the nurses station so I could tell them. They came and spent time with him and I pray all is well, but I think they are going to keep a closer eye on him. I think that it is important to have an advocate with you in the hospital.

Day 3: Monday at BJC

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Day 3: Monday at BJC
Scott hard-at-work blogging from his hospital room. (That’s some great hair, Scotty) -Carrie





You are probably getting tired of my hot air, but I have advice. I’m writing this, so if you’re tired of reading it, stop. For the rest of you, press on because it only gets more monotonous! Are you excited?

Monday I was finally able to have some breakfast and it stayed down. Whoo-hoo! The doctors finally came around and explained surgery and my MRI results and by mid-morning I had this new roommate who is a really nice fellow.

If you’ll remember my meals kept getting pushed back because they didn’t yet know how soon the surgery needed to be. The real question at hand was whether there was an infection and the MRI came back clean. More good news. The down side to this, of course, was that after all the waiting I was in for more waiting. Well, that’s okay. I’m not in a hurry to be under the knife again. I had breakfast and, even tho it was cold, gross and greasy: It was one of the best meals I had ever had. Oh boy was I hungry!

When it came time for lunch, though, (yes this is about to take a sad, unfortunate turn) they said I couldn’t eat for awhile again. They were going to do a procedure to reduce the pressure and swelling by using syringes to pull some of the fluid (and blood) out of my head. It wasn’t so bad. At first Carrie told me it was a spinal tap and that sounded excruciating, but it wasn’t a spinal tap, they just had to get under the skin, muscle and scar-tissue to pull it out. Now, don’t get my wrong, it hurt. I think I nearly squeezed my wife’s hand off, but it was bearable and I finally had some relief once I recovered from the procedure. They did the procedure right in my room and numbed the skin with lanocaine (sp?)

The rest of the day was super-exciting. I laid in bed all day. I had fun little moments like when dinner came, but it was a very long day. On Sunday I slept nearly the whole time, but by monday I found myself not sleeping all that much. You may know something about that yourself, I don’t know. But isn’t it increasingly tough to really rest in a hospital once the newness wears off? Well, it is for me. I think my buttocks begins to get sore from sitting and my nerves get worn by the staff, my family, and other patients and I have a harder-and-harder time truly resting!

That’s really all that is fit to print for the moment. After my minor procedure I was pretty well out of it for the next hour or so. It really left me tired and sore, but once I began to sit up I realized that I felt tremendously better.

From Pontiac to St. Louis: The Transfer

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From Pontiac to St. Louis: The Transfer

I forgot explain arrival at Barnes-Jewish. I’ve never been transferred from hospital to hospital, but I guess we assumed that we’d get admitted and wait for a room and paperwork, etc. No. It was amazing. They already had me assigned to a room before we left pontiac and when we arrived the paramedics took me directly to my room. Of course, it wasn’t, exactly, straight to my room. The paramedics were from streator and so neither they nor I knew how to get from the ambulance entry to 11579a. It took three staff members from BJC before we got proper directions. It is such a big hospital that the first couple staff members had to ask others before we had directions.

Of course, that is the exceptional thing about Barnes-Jewish, you expect to get lost in the big-ness of it, but staff are so friendly that they will walk you all the way to your destination just to make sure you get there. Boy, the staff here has been tremendously helpful.

After my last stay the public relations department contacted me thru my doctors to ask if they could use some of my videos. To do so I needed to fill out a consent form. When I got here I realized that they should bring the forms while I’m in the hospital or I’ll have to find them, fill them out and mail them back. I has just told a nurse that I wanted the PR department to know I was here. You know they didn’t have a chance to call? Nope, the PR department saw my tweets on twitter and stopped by just to see how I was doing. An administrator, Tracy, who is with quality assurance found out from the internet that I was here and stopped in to check on me.

This is a far-cry from ‘getting lost.’

Day 2 – Getting to St. Louis.

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Day 2 – Getting to St. Louis.
image found at:  http://www.epmonthly.com/whitecoat/2010/05/florida-verdict-threatens-ems-availability/ambulance-2/

Hmmm. So where did I leave off? Ah, I told you all about getting sick on Saturday and getting to the Pontiac Hospital. I was feeling a little stupid, you know, expecting the doctors to say, again: “This is all normal, take some tylenol and go home.” My wife later said it’s like going to the mechanic and having the rattle stop once the mechanic is there to listen. Well, as most of you now know, it wasn’t business as usual. The radiologist told us it looked like bleeding in my brain from the original surgery and they wanted to transfer us to St. Joseph’s in bloomington. Luckily my wife was not satisfied about the transfer. For me, I would have done anything I was told I was so goofy from the morphine, but my wife was on top of things. She was confused why they would transfer me to bloomington and not to the doctors I knew already and the facility where I’d already had brain surgery. Well, for those of you who have not yet met my wife, she is never afraid to speak her mind. She told the doctor that we would just wait until he had contacted the surgeon’s office in St. Louis. I’m sure my wife felt elation when he walked back into the room looking a little defeated and said, “the doctors want you transferred back to Barnes.”

At first we were told the transfer would be within the next hour or so…so Carried stayed by my bed from 2-4am. Finally they told us that they were out of ambulances and drivers and that it would be 7am, so Carrie went home and got some sleep…at least I thought she did.

She was so worried about Sunday morning going well, that she secretly went to Chenoa an
 worked on Sunday morning stuff and prepared for worship for several more hours, since I had kept her from doing any work during most of this past week. She is a loyal and conscientious worker.

The ambulance got to the hospital around 7:45 and we were piled in and headed to St. Louis by 8am. It was really a pretty comfortable ride (morphine and anti-nausea meds help with that, though). Most importantly, the paramedic and driver were excellent and really went above-and-beyond to make us comfortable, give us internet access (yes, amazing, right?) and to provide excellent medical care.

Since we’ve been at Barnes-Jewish (we got here around 11am or so Sunday morning) it has basically been a waiting game. I mean, this situation was unscripted and this hospital visit was unplanned so they had to slip me in front of other people for the MRI and bounce me around rooms a bit before things were satisfactory.

We saw a neuro-surgeon resident who was on-call this weekend who was exceptionally helpful, very thorough, and really paid attention to my situation. Oh, and he really seemed very knowledgeable. He came by the room in the early-to-mid afternoon and talked to us about the CT scan that was taken in Pontiac. He wasn’t convinced there was any new bleeding, but certainly there was spinal fluid leaking and…the best way to describe it would be a ‘pressure problem.’ If spinal fluid is leaking out from the skull, there isn’t enough in the skull, so my headaches and my pain was from the pressure being ‘out of whack.’
He also helped me to understand my headaches. I explained my different head pain and headaches and I told them that sometimes it shot from the back of my head to the front. He told us that the C2 (not sure that’s right) nerves or nerve bundle (or something) arch up from where my surgery was done to the front of my head and that was causing some of the headaches I had been experiencing. Gosh, it was just great to know that they believed my pain and that I wasn’t crazy. Okay, so this isn’t definitive proof of my craziness. My brand of crazy comes from somewhere else, though 🙂

The MRI wasn’t able to happen until 6:30 pm or so on Sunday night. They wouldn’t knock me out and it took about 45 minutes. I’ve never had trouble with MRIs before, but I thought about that bump on my head and the nausea I felt and I told them I didn’t think I could do it without being knocked out. They were moving me onto the MRI when I looked up with big sad eyes and said, “Oh, so I guess the doctor didn’t approve for me to get knocked out for this. The Radiologist’s only response was a slow, sad head shake.

Well, it was long and painful, but not intolerable. They didn’t even have to re-do any of it. I rocked out that MRI…yeah. And then we waited for results.

I hadn’t kept any food or water down since Friday evening at dinner and this was Sunday night, so I was hungry. No, I was famished. I’m a Carnes and we should come with a label, “Dangerous When Hungry.” Well, they didn’t want me to eat until they knew for sure that I wouldn’t need surgery until Monday. They said it was unlikely, but if there was an infection I might need immediate surgery and they didn’t want me to eat in that case.

I’m a reasonable guy (when I’m not hungry) and I understood that it would be a while before we got MRI results, but it took several hours and then the nurse came in at 10 pm (or so) and said that we probably wouldn’t hear any more until Monday morning. You should have seen the look of despair in my eyes. I explained how I had not eaten in days and how I’d been promised food before bed, so long as there was no emergency surgery. The nurse took pity on me and, despite orders, gave me a few ice chips.
Oh, that ice and water were exquisite! I mean, that water tasted better than the best wine. OooOOohhhhh, soooo good!

Well, that gets me to Sunday night and you nearing know as much as we do so far.

Day 1 – The ER in Pontiac

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Day 1 – The ER in Pontiac

Gosh, it’s weird and confusing to be here all over again. Here I sit at Barnes Jewish waiting for surgery. I’ve been through this once so you’d think I’d know what’s happening, but i don’t. It’s been a strange whirlwind sort of weekend and we are just getting to see the full picture.

These last couple of weeks have been harder on me than the initial recovery and last week it got real bad by wednesday when I woke up with terrible pain and headaches which caused me to throw up and then I continued throwing up all morning from about 4 or 5 am until noon and then I finally found a comfortable position and fell off to sleep and slept the rest of the afternoon. The next couple of days were rough, but no more throwing up until Saturday. Saturday was nearly exactly like Wednesday. I woke up earlier than usual and then continually vomitted, but it never stopped. We called the neurosurgeon, just as we did on Wednesday and they weren’t terribly concerned (they didn’t think it was surgical or related to my surgery). But the neurosurgeons said that we should go to our local ER if the pain persisted.

Finally around 3 pm or so we realized that I was getting no relief. The problem, though, for me, was that I couldn’t imagine having to go by car to the hospital. The light and motion seemed like they would just make everything so much worse that I delayed a fair bit before agreeing to go. Well, reason kicked in and my wife helped me to the car and drove me over to St. James OSF Hospital in Pontiac. We go to the hospital around 4 or 4:30 pm.

They got me right into an ER room and I we asked them to make it dark and quiet.  They took care of it immediately and got me on some anti-nausea meds and morphine. Gretchen stopped by cause she was already out and about and sat with me while Carrie went home to pick up my MRI scans and reports from February and March (which we had left at home). The Pontiac hospital did a CT Scan and we waited until 2 am or so to find out that they believed there was bleeding in my brain from the surgery.

It was a long day, but finding out what was going on and finding out that I was getting to transferred was a load off. Sometimes just having a plan makes everything a little better!
I will share more a little later and bring you all up-to-date. For right now, I’m going to relax a little and wait for Carrie to get back from the waiting room. A visitor just came and she took them away from the room so that I could rest.

Thank you, all, for your on-going prayers and concern. We do appreciate your caring support very much!