Need More Coffee Please

Have you ever been sick for a couple of days where you forgot what it’s even like to be healthy?

What was it like to not have a fever, to not have snot running down your face, or to have the energy to do even the most simple of everyday tasks?

You regretted taking your health for granted. You regret not taking your vitamin C, supplements or exercising like you knew you should have. Now, it feels like you’ll never be well enough to do those things. When you get sick, even with something minor like a cold or a mild flu, nothing else matters but your health. It’s all you can think about – you would give anything to feel better, to be outside and have the sun on your face, to be out from under the covers, to escape that prison cell that you once called your room, and get rid of that box of tissues that’s practically chained to you.

The funny thing is, as I was laying in that hospital bed, having learned what put me there and what my prognosis may be going forward, I wished I was in my bed with the flu. At least in that sick bed there was hope of me getting better and being back to the way I was before I got ill. As far as I knew then, I would never be back to the same way I was before the stroke. From what some of my doctors are telling me now, I will not ever be the same as I was pre-stroke. 

I remember my neuro ophthamologist (eye doctor) telling me something similar to that some months back. Although my eyesight had improved quickly and dramatically, the timeline for healing and improvement had essentially come to its conclusion. It was definitely hard to hear that, I’m not going to lie. Even though I have a lot of respect for him, I knew that he was not the final word on what my healing process would look like. 

The Creator of the universe, the Great Physician, the One who created me and knows me intimately has the final word. I don’t know what that word is yet, but I put my trust and hope in Him, knowing that He knows what is best for me and my family. It definitely hasn’t always been easy. There have been, and still are, some sleepless nights and anxiety. Worry and doubt have crept in and played their tricks in my head. 

It’s hard to trust in what you can’t see. 

I know I’m not telling you anything new. This is the first time I or my family have gone through something like this, and we’re definitely learning as we go. Sure, we’ve been through trials and scary situations, but nothing where our health was concerned. So, this is all new to us.

We went to Bible College and learned about how faithful God was, we grew up in church and learned about the stories of David and Goliath, Jonah, the children of Israel, and how He always came through for them. We had the head knowledge that God was good and faithful and trustworthy. But this is the first time that we experienced a life and death situation that required that head knowledge to migrate towards our hearts in this way.

I can see now how God used our past experiences – the multiple moves, losing everything in a wildfire, a failed church plant, being super broke to prepare us for this very situation. It seems like He brought us through these smaller trials to get us ready for this bigger one. It’s not like we were ready to go and face the next trial, we didn’t see this one coming at all, but seeing God come through in the past, gave us the faith to know that He would come through this time as well. I don’t know if God always works that way – using little trials to build up to a bigger one – but He definitely did with us. Probably because He knew that we couldn’t handle the magnitude of this one first.

I don’t know what y’all are going through, relationship trials, financial, career or health issues, but I do know that God is faithful. He knows us better than we know ourselves and He knows exactly what we need and when we need it. I know sometimes it can seem so dark, that there is no light at the end of the tunnel, but as long as God is with us, there is always hope.

“For whoever has despised the day of small things shall rejoice…” Zech. 4:10 ESV

It’s hard to believe that it’s already been 10 months since my stroke. It’s funny that when we look back at things that have happened to us, it can feel like it only  happened yesterday and it feels like a lifetime ago at the same time. A lot has happened since then, and it feels like nothing has happened. It’s easy to forget how I was when I woke up in that hospital. 

I was a wreck physically, mentally and emotionally.

 I have come a long way in all those areas, even though some days it doesn’t feel like it. You see, I suffer from what a lot of Christians suffer from – spiritual short term memory loss. I was afflicted with this before my stroke, but I feel like it’s gotten especially bad after it. It’s been a condition the human race has suffered from since the time of Adam and Eve, and we will continue to go through it until we are in our new bodies. We forget so quickly what God has done for us and how good He has been and we tend to focus right away on what we used to have and don’t any longer, or what we want and don’t have.

It’s easy to read books like Exodus and see how whiny and ungrateful the children of Israel tended to be after God parted the Red Sea or made manna come down from Heaven and criticize them for their lack of faith. 

But that is us. That is me.

The fact that I am even able to be here and write this is a miracle. 

I should have died.

But, God saw it fit to keep me alive. To give me more time with Melissa and kids. To give me more opportunities to see Him work and to serve Him.

God is so good.

Yet, so many times, instead of focusing on His love and His goodness, I focus on what I don’t have or what I can’t do.

Right after my stroke, I was in the ICU for a while, recovering, then I went into “in-patient rehab” where I underwent rehab exercises while I still stayed in the hospital. The rehab was challenging, especially at first. I was under-weight, weak, I had the eyesight of a fruit bat and my balance was that of a drunken sailor while on the ocean for the first time.

But my therapist was great. She was kind, funny and knew exactly when to push me harder and when to let me rest. I was still in my wheelchair at that time, but I could see and feel myself progress everyday. Unfortunately, the rehab part was only about an hour a day, so the rest of the day I was stuck in my room, wondering how I got there – and wishing I was rehabbing and getting better.

That lasted about a month, then they discharged me from the hospital, and I went home.

I was home for a couple of days and then I began Day Neuro. I had to get used to the house again and where everything was. At that point, I was still pretty immobile and I had to rely on Melissa and the kids to do almost everything for me. Honestly, Melissa and the kids were great. I was just frustrated at myself and my situation and sometimes I would take it out on them. They would ask me where I was going or what I was doing every time I got off the couch. I knew they were doing it out of love and concern, but it would sometimes still annoy me. It was my job to be the inquisitive and annoying one, not theirs.

 There were so many things that I took for granted when I was healthy: walking on my own without a walker, being able to see the TV clearly and being able to drive. There were new things I suddenly  needed a lot of help with. Getting dressed, tying my shoes and just walking around the house. I even had to take a shower with one of those shower stools, so I could sit down, because I was so weak and my balance was so off. 

The rehab facility Melissa found thankfully picked me up, which was good because it was about 40 minutes away. I had sessions 5 days a week, and 6 hours a day, so it was intense for sure, but it was exactly what I needed. My progress surged by leaps and bounds during those 3 months. I went from a wheelchair, to a walker, to walking on my own, from showering with a stool, to showering without one and from climbing up the stairs, holding onto the banister for dear life, to walking up them with no help. My eyesight improved drastically to where I first was prescribed glasses and then I outgrew the prescription. My coordination and balance improved and it felt like I got my “land legs” back.

Since then, I have “graduated” rehab and have been home full time. I am still progressing, although it’s not the day to day big improvements that we saw at the beginning. The doctors and therapists said that my progression would begin to slow down as time went on, but it was still hard to take. I am now at the period where I am still improving, but the progression is slower and imperceptible at times.

It is the “days of small things”.

It can be frustrating for sure. Have you ever met a family and they have young kids, and then you go a couple months without seeing them and their kids have shot up like weeds and all of a sudden they have huge vocabularies? You mention to their parents how much they’ve grown and they notice it, but not as much as you. They see their kids everyday and although they see them grow and mature, their growth is harder to see and measure on a daily basis. That’s how I feel.

I know that I am progressing and getting stronger everyday, but since it happens in smaller increments, it’s harder for me to notice. Those that haven’t seen me for a couple of months will comment on how much I’ve improved or how much healthier I look, etc., but I don’t always feel it. I, like the Israelites, can tend to focus on what I don’t have or what I still can’t do, instead of remembering and thanking God for the miracles He has done. 

God knows us so well. He knew we needed to see the forgetfulness and at times the ungratefulness of the Israelites. He knew that we needed to see that He used imperfect men like Moses, Abraham and David. Yes, they messed up, they lacked faith, they disobeyed, but God still used them. He used them to bring Israel out of Egypt, to bring His people through the wilderness and to slay a giant and rule over His nation. Were there days of small things in their lives? Of course. Did they rejoice when those days were over and God used them? Of course.

Being raised in Pharoah’s palace had to have had its boring, monotonous days. Seeing sand dune after sand dune in the wilderness and hearing people whine all day probably got old and smelling sheep all day and smelling like a sheep, being a shepherd, does not sound like fun. But, God used those times as preparation for them, because He was going to use them for great things. I know that God is using this time to prepare me, to heal me and to train me for what He has next for me, but sometimes it is hard. I just have to be patient and not forget how good and loving He is. 

Maybe you’re going through a slow time in your life right now. You feel like you’re going through the routine, you can’t see any real change in your life or situation.

Just know that God is working, He is preparing you, refining you, training you for what He has next for you. In our modern-day, instant gratification, next-day shipping, “what-have-you-done-for-me-lately” culture, it’s hard to wait, to be patient and to trust that God is working. Believe me, I know.

But, He is a good and loving Father, who wants what’s best for His children. He is faithful and He is taking care of us, whether we see or feel it or not.

I need this reminder just as much as anyone.

And maybe, you do too.

2024 was a tumultuous year for us, to say the least.

It started off fairly normal – me and Melissa working, the kids going to school, living our normal routine. However, in the background of that routine was a feeling that we weren’t doing what we were ultimately supposed to do. We both had jobs that we kind of liked, but we knew they weren’t “our calling” or our purpose. The jobs paid the bills (mostly), but we knew deep down inside that God had something else. We didn’t know what that was (we still don’t), but the feeling remained. In the meantime, we lived our lives and we were happy, for the most part. Our marriage was great, our relationship with our kids was really good, and we found an awesome church that was a perfect fit for us.

We were living like most American Christians live. Going through the motions, living through the routine, chasing after what we have been taught all our lives to be the “American dream”.

 But, that’s not what God teaches us.

 We got so busy chasing after that American dream, we didn’t realize that what we were taught and indoctrinated in since we were kids, was really a trap. 

It is difficult for us humans to break the years of indoctrination, brainwashing and incantation that has been done to us all our lives. Thankfully, we have the Lord. He alone has the antidote, He can teach us a new, better way, only He can break the spell.

He was doing that in us, as we began walking with Him again, and desiring for Him to show us what He had planned for us. We knew God had a bigger plan and purpose for us, but it felt like there was no safe way to jump off the merry-go-round.

Then, March 10th happened and our lives were flipped upside-down.

God found our exit for the job-school-American Dream, busy-ness carousel we were on, but it wasn’t pretty and it wasn’t at all what we were expecting. Like I’ve said before, the last thing I/we were thinking was going to interrupt our lives was a stroke. I guess all interruptions are unexpected, but this one completely blind-sided us. 

For sure, this was a drastic wake up call, a shocking and abrupt departure from life as we knew it. Thankfully, God doesn’t ask our permission to give us these wake up calls, nor does He ask us what we want them to be, because I don’t know if we would have agreed to this if He did. But, He knows best. He knew this was the  bucket of ice-cold water to the face that we needed.

 Once the dust settled after my stroke and I was back home and in my right mind (mostly), we realized that our lives would and could never be the same. Melissa came to that conclusion before I did, but now we were both on the same page. Even if I did make a 100% recovery and I was able to go back to my job, I don’t think I wanted to, or could. God took us out of the “rat race” and we had no desire of rejoining. We just want to be used by Him. We have no idea what that means, or what that looks like, but we know that He will show us. We just have to be patient.

After a life altering event like my stroke, our priorities predictably and obviously changed. The material things we chased after, the titles, the keeping-up-with-the-Jones’, the careers, didn’t matter any more. We are just genuinely grateful that we are all alive and together, and we ultimately knew that God was going to take care of us and see us through this situation. 

And He has.

He has provided for us and helped us in ways that we could not have thought of  or dreamed of. For sure, there were times where I, especially, was freaking out about finances and the future, but Melissa was steady, confident and unwavering in her faith. She was such an inspiration and example to me. If she could take me to the hospital, stay by my bedside, deal with the doctors and nurses, and take care of the house and kids, all without knowing if I would leave her a widow, then I could certainly handle this. 

We have been tested in ways that we have never been tested in before. 

God has shown Himself faithful in areas we have never seen before.

Our faith has grown and been refined in situations and circumstances that we never even thought of before.

We know that God isn’t doing this for nothing. We know that He is preparing us, strengthening us and teaching us for what He has for us in the future. It’s easy to lose sight of that, to get caught up in the cares of this world and forget that we’re only passing through. But, He has a plan and a purpose for your suffering. He is training you, He is refining you and removing any dross you have in your life so that you can be used by Him to minister to others.

I don’t have a display case at the entrance to my house filled with trophies.

I don’t have medals or ribbons on the front of my jacket indicating to everyone else all what I have achieved in battles or what rank I am.

I don’t have zeroes at the end of my balance in my bank account to show that I suffered and was treated wrongfully and was monetarily compensated.

What I do have is scars.

Scars on my face and on my head that remind me of what I went through. The scars are my trophies, the scars are my medals. These scars that I was once embarrassed of and covered up whenever I could, I am now proud of. Not because I suffered and came out the other side due to my own abilities and  strength, but because God saw it fit for me to go through the testing ground of suffering and has brought me through to the other side a stronger, more resilient and Godlier man.

Sure, the scars aren’t pretty, they’re not symmetrical or stragetically placed where it makes me look tougher or manlier. They’re not tattoos that I carefully sketched out and planned where they should go. Truth be told, what I went through wasn’t pretty either; There were a lot of tears, questions, doubts, fears and confusion, and to be honest, there still are.

I still don’t know exactly why I had to go through this stroke, although it has resulted in my relationship with the Lord getting stronger and my relationships with other people in my life getting better as a result. But, I still feel like there’s more. Like I said, I don’t know what that is, maybe there’s nothing but, I want to stay open to the possibility that God has something more to teach me, more to show me and different ways to use me. 

It may be that you too are suffering, that you are struggling, that you are being treated unjustly or unfairly and you can’t figure out if there’s a purpose in all of this.

 God sees it.

 God knows it.

 God sees you.

 God knows you.

 He knows exactly what you need and what it will take to get you there.

 You may not know why God is putting you through this trial, but He has a plan and a purpose for it and He has a plan and a purpose for you. 

Trust Him.

Fear.

Frustration.

Loneliness.

Those weren’t all the things I felt after my stroke, but they were definitely the feelings that dominated all the others that I had.

 I thought I had it all figured out, I thought I had it all dialed in, I thought I was (mostly) doing what I was supposed to do. 

I guess I was wrong. Maybe I was wrong? Did I know how to hear from the Lord? Did I know what the Lord’s voice sounded like?  Was I in tune with God enough to follow His signs? 

None of these things came into question until I had my stroke and I laid in that hospital bed by myself after visiting hours were over. Melissa left, my family left, most of the nursing staff left and I laid there in a bed and a room that were not my own, alone with my thoughts, doubts and fears.

I dreaded when night came, because I knew that everyone was going to be gone again, and the spirits of fear, loneliness and frustration would come and pay me a visit.

 I don’t know if anyone else has had the miserable experience of having to try to sleep in one of those hospital beds, but they’re terrible. I always had a hard time trying to sleep in a bed that was not my own, but in a hospital,  with tubes sticking out of my arms, and all those thoughts running through my head – forget it. I would keep the T.V. on all night at the beginning,  just to have some background noise in the room to help me fall asleep better, and have something distract me. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. To this day, everytime I hear the Burger King theme song from one of their commercials, it brings me right back to that hospital room, to that bed, to those thoughts.

Towards the end of my hospital stay, (I was there from March 10th through May 3rd) I turned the T.V. off at night and I was able to sleep better. I began to use that quiet time to “listen to and hear from the Lord”.

Throughout my life, hearing from the Lord was something that I heard alot about, but I thought it was reserved more for characters in the Bible, pastors and evangelists – people  much more spiritual than me. The truth is, I never thought I was going to be spiritual enough to be able “to reach that level”. It took me having that quiet time, with nothing on the screen, nothing in my headphones and no one to talk to, to realize that I too can hear from the Lord. It’s not that I’m not spiritual enough, or that I need some official church position to hear Him. For me, I needed that quiet time and I needed to be humbled, namely by the stroke, to be able to hear from God.

I am not here to claim that I am a prophet, or that I have some special gift or a direct line to the Lord. I am saying that, even me, a regular shmegular dude, can hear from and be directed by Him. It took this stroke, my hospital stay and being completely reliant on Him for my health, our finances and our future, to get to this point. Is it always easy to be reliant on Him like that? Absolutely not. 

It’s hard to trust in the Lord when you are lying in a hospital bed with tubes sticking out of you, when your bank account is dwindling by the second, and you have no idea whether or not you’ll be able to go back to work again.  It’s hard to trust in what you can’t see.

Maybe I was too prideful or self-reliant to get out of the way to allow God to work and speak to me.I was definitely prideful in regards to my health and physical state, something that I was humbled on in one night.

What I was most afraid of, was not getting my health and physical state back. I thought God took that away from me for good. Maybe He did permanently take some of my physical abilities -especially my vision and balance – I just don’t know yet. But, I know that either way God is going to take care of me.

 I was frustrated that I did not know why God allowed this to happen to me, and what I was going to be able to do for my family. I didn’t know what kind of man I was going to be if I couldn’t drive or work or do stuff around the house. It was frustrating not knowing when I was going to find out if and when I can “go back to normal”. I know that God has a plan and purpose for me and for this stroke. Some things I know now and some things God will show me in His timing, or maybe I won’t know until after this life is over.

Thankfully, I did not suffer much pain (or at least pain that I remember), but it was difficult to describe my symptoms and to express exactly what I was feeling and going through to those that were with me. I did not know anyone else who suffered a stroke like I did, so sharing these things was difficult, if not impossible. Melissa and my family were with me everyday, so my room was always full of people I loved and who I knew loved me. But, I still felt lonely knowing that even those closest to me did not know exactly what I was feeling and what I was able to see or not see. 

It took me a while to realize that I was not alone. God was with me the whole time. God was not caught off guard by my stroke, nor was He surprised by it, even though we were.

 He was not fearful, frustrated or lonely. He knew this was going to happen and what exactly I was going to be feeling during this time. He knows what my future holds, it is already written. All that fear, frustration and loneliness were used to further strengthen me, to test me and to teach me to trust in Him.

 He is faithful, He is good and He knows my future. 

Even when I don’t.

They say the most significant recovery from a stroke happens in the first 3 – 6 months. After 6 months, recovery greatly slows down but it can continue for up to 18 months or even longer. It entirely depends on a number of factors:

~ the part of the brain effected

~ the severity of the stroke

~ the stroke survivor’s motivation 

~ the health of the survivor, prior to the stroke

~ the quality of their rehabilitation

~ their health post stroke

When Cisco was still in the ICU, I made a post on Instagram that gave more details about the type of stroke he suffered (much like what he posted about on the blog last week). I mentioned that his neurosurgeon had told me how every patient she’s ever had has been it’s own separate case. In other words, every patient and every situation were entirely different.

The brain is not like other organs. There are huge limits on their ability to monitor what is going on, if something is about to go wrong, or if a procedure worked. The heart, the lungs, pretty much every other organ, you can monitor. There are a number of tests that can be performed and you are much more likely (and able) to see when something is going wrong, or about to.  

With a stroke, you will see a number of varying outcomes. And it’s all just a matter of “wait and see”. There are no guarantees and as bad as you want something tangible and certain to hold on to, you will not get it. I will say, if I did not have the certainty in my mind that I did, that the Lord was fully in control and involved in the situation, I would’ve lost my mind.  

 I had a sort of mantra from the beginning of this whole thing – “Sunday is Coming”. A week or two prior to his stroke, Phil Wickham came out with a song bearing that title. I would weep every time I listened to it and I had it on repeat because I loved it so much. Those 3 words had never sounded more powerful, more hopeful, more victorious to me. If you haven’t heard it, stop here and go listen to it right now. 

Those 3 words never left my head for 2 months straight. That picture, of Jesus dying and the hopelessness and devastation the disciples and his friends and followers must have felt the following 3 days…I felt it too. Every dream, completely leveled. Every plan, every prayer, all the years of working hard towards a particular goal, up in smoke. You’re suddenly left with a thousand questions and the charred remains of what you once thought was everything that mattered. 

HOW was this His plan?

HOW is any of this good?

And the real question…. Freaking WHY?!

But I digress. Sunday is Coming. Even though I couldn’t see it then, I had to believe it would eventually come. And already, in many ways, it has. 

The first 6 months was a whirlwind of progress. He was progressing at breakneck speed and it was incredibly exciting. In every way, it was like witnessing a miracle unfold before our very eyes and I remember just being blown away, every day, watching him conquer every hurdle. 

When he got out of inpatient rehab and began going to Day Neuro, his progress continued at a great, but slower, rate. At the 6th month mark, we began hearing the dreaded “his progress has peaked” talk and we knew it was time to begin looking outside of the medical system for further help. 

My aunt, who has been a nurse and worked in the medical field for literal decades, was the one to first tell us about the BEMER (Bio-Electro-Magnetic-Energy-Regulation). It’s a German/Swiss device that sends a low-intensity pulsed electromagnetic field, stimulating the muscles, which in turn improves blood circulation. This results in better disbursement of oxygen in targeted areas. You can read more about it here www.bemergroup.com 

Increased circulation, blood flow, and oxygen, all provide an ideal environment for healing. This allows the body to heal itself, essentially. A friend that lives in Hungary also messaged me about it during the summer, as it is widely used for rehabilitation in Europe. We were incredibly blessed to be able to get our hands on one for Cisco and he is about 2 months into his daily use of it. 

Around the same time we started him on the BEMER, that same aunt also suggested we look into particular line of supplements that would be highly beneficial for him.   

It is a line of zeolite based supplements that range from heavy metal detoxification, pain relief, mood boosting and immunity, weight loss and more. We quickly saw major improvements with his mood and ability to manage his emotions. 

One of the very common after effects of a stroke is depression (understandably so), and it can be very deep and dark. It is much more difficult for them to “snap out of it” or deal with their emotions when their brain is in a state of trauma. And all of this, while trying to process the fact that they had a stroke and have entire months wiped from their memory. It can be A LOT. And it can be scary. 

He went from having 3 – 4 “bad” days a week to pretty much none. Maybe 1 or 2, every few weeks, and not nearly as bad as they were happening before. The supplements have become a necessity, as we saw at the end of last month, when we ran out of them, how quickly his mood and wellbeing nose-dived! Won’t be letting that happen ever again. (The BEMER also helps with mood and the combination of the two have definitely made a difference, as they work synergistically with each other! )  

They are completely natural, FDA approved (which is extremely rare for natural supplements!), the highest of quality and I could literally go on and on about them. The brand is called Avini Health and if you are interested in learning more, I would be more than happy to help direct you. You can also check it out here www.avinihealth.com/melissagonzalez. They truly have been a God-send for our family and the testimonials from others who’ve used them as well, are pretty mind-blowing. 

 If you know Cisco, you know he doesn’t love being on pharmaceuticals, so the fact these have prevented him from having to go on more of them than is necessary, makes it well worth it! He thankfully isn’t on very many, but for those who have asked – he takes a statin, a baby aspirin, and Kepra, which is an anti-seizure med. 

In addition to his meds, he also takes B-complex, Omega 3 fish oil, Vitamin D, and Zinc. As far as Avini supplements, he’s on the Cell Defender, Zmunity Mushrooms, Plus Mind and Vision, and Plus Cardio. The biggest thing to remember when treating anything with natural or a more holistic route is that time and consistency are your friend! You have to be consistent and you can’t expect instant results (although you may see some). 

I know this wasn’t the most exciting of blog posts, but this covers our most frequently asked questions (how the BEMER is going, what meds/supplements is he taking, etc). Much of his improvements the past couple months have been subtle and in the day-to-day, nearly unnoticeable. But when looking back at the beginning of the month, or a few weeks ago, then I really see it. I’m confident we are giving him his best shot at near to full recovery we can. He is truly the sweetest, most quietly determined fighter I have ever seen and I am so hugely grateful to everyone who has helped us along in this fight.  

Disclaimer: I am not a doctor or a medical professional, nor do I claim to be. I am just a wife and a mom, who has had time on my hands to research. I have also prayed many prayers, for the Lord to lead us to the things that would give us a fighting chance and I absolutely believe He has. Everything we are doing is under the recommendation & supervision of medical professionals.

On March 10th, 2024, at the age of 44, I had a stroke.

  An ischemic stroke ,which means a clog in what was a small vein in my cerebellum, deep inside of my head, to be specific.

 It was a normal spring Saturday. I worked at my weekend restaurant job earlier that morning, made dinner, watched some T.V. with the fam and went to bed, expecting to go to church the next morning. The next thing I knew, I woke up in a hospital bed (two months later) with zero recollection of what happened during the previous couple of months, or how much time had elapsed.

There was a lot that happened in the time in between, but I’ll let Melissa fill all that in.

What I remember when I woke up is asking Melissa where I was, what happened and why the heck I was in the hospital. Apparently, I had asked Melissa this same series of questions a couple of different times, with me reacting a couple of different ways – ranging from tears of grief and surprise to using expletives to angrily and colorfully describe my situation.

I was confused, scared and upset that I was in the hospital and those feelings only multiplied, once I fully grasped what I was in the hospital for. 

I lived what I thought was a reasonably healthy lifestyle. I ate mostly carnivore, worked out 4 to 5 times a week… I didn’t eat dairy or gluten and I avoided junk food, seed oils and prescription medication. The last thing that I thought was going to happen to me was a stroke.

I did have a couple vices however.

I drank vodka almost every night “to help me sleep” and I took some Zyn nicotine pouches during the day to “keep me awake and help me concentrate” during work. The reason that those are in apostrophes is that I don’t believe those were the real reasons that I partook in those. Sure, they helped with my sleep and concentration (maybe), but I realize now that I wasn’t fully trusting in God to help me with those things. I didn’t even ask Him, I just assumed that these were a part of living this “rat race” life. I avoided  being a “Big Pharma” consumer by avoiding prescription meds and doctors, but I was a willing customer to “Big Alcohol” and “Big Tobacco”. 

In other words, I was a hypocrite.

I am happy to say that I have not touched either of those substances since my stroke, praise God, though I will admit that I do get a craving for one or the other every once in a blue moon. But, for now, I’m sleeping like a baby every night without the need for a sleep aid, and my attentiveness and concentration have never been better…ironically enough. It also helps that I’m not working right now, either. 

The doctors haven’t given me a reason as to why my stroke happened, but I don’t want to risk another stroke -or any other health issues- by continuing these stupid habits. I do know that high cholesterol and high blood pressure can cause strokes (something I didn’t find out runs in my family until I was in the hospital). My family also has a history of strokes (woulda been nice to know earlier, mom and dad).

I don’t know if any if you know anyone that has had a stroke in the past, but most stroke victims suffer from paralysis that affects either the left or right side of their body (depending on what side of the brain the stroke occurred), along with slurred speech, some cognitive impairments, and trouble concentrating, etc.

Thankfully, that (mostly) was not the case with me, because of where in my brain my stroke occurred.

My stroke occurred in my visual cortex and because of this, I suffered some visual issues. The first thing I noticed when I woke up, was that my eyesight was severely compromised. I had trouble with both my long and short distance vision, the peripheral vision in my left eye was pretty much gone, and I was unable to focus on more than one thing at a time. I could recognize people by the outline/ shape of their bodies and sound of their voice, but I couldn’t see the details of their face.

I couldn’t really see anything clearly, I couldn’t read any books, and the T.V. was really blurry.

It was frustrating, to say the least.

Thankfully, these symptoms have gotten better over time, with the more serious issues lasting a couple of weeks longer, and some of them lingering to this day. I went to a neuro-ophthalmologist and he prescribed me some special glasses, which definitely helped out while my vision continued to improve. My vision eventually got good enough to where I didn’t need to wear them anymore. I do still have trouble reading books with small print and I usually have to find the left side of the page with my finger since my periphery is gone.

 I lost quite a bit of weight while I was in the hospital (probably about 25 to 30 pounds). That may not seem like much, but I only weighed about 150 pounds at the time, so it was a lot of weight. Looking back at pictures of myself during that time, I looked like a homeless heroin addict. My muscles atrophied significantly and my strength and stamina were really low.

I didn’t notice until I tried to get up out of my hospital bed, that my balance was was severely compromised as well. Because my eyesight was wonky, it threw my balance off, and since my balance was off, it hindered my ability to walk and it was a chore just to sit up in my bed.

At that point, my independence was pretty much non-existent.

I had to rely on others – Melissa, my kids, nurses and doctors to get up, walk around or even go to the bathroom. For someone who prided themselves on their mobility and independence, having my 12 year old daughter help walk me around the hospital floor was a hard pill to swallow. 

Throughout this whole time Melissa has been an absolute rockstar. She has been kind, patient, loving and took care of me as only a mother could. I have never heard her complain that she was tired, never any indication that she was getting impatient with me and zero signs of mental or physical fatigue. She stayed by my bedside the whole time, took care of me and gave me all the supplements and vitamins seemingly ever made so that I can recover quicker. 

Most importantly, she prayed for me.

 She also went on social media to share our story to get others to pray as well. I know that I wouldn’t be writing this right now, without her and what seems like half the world praying. I know that she had her dark days, her lonely nights when she wasn’t sure if and when I would come home, or who I would be when I did, and what kind of future we would have. But she kept on taking care of me and praying that the Lord would heal me.

At the beginning, Melissa joined a couple of stroke survivor forums online to learn a little bit more about what we were in for, in the near and long term. She unfollowed those sites shortly thereafter because a lot of the stories were depressing and terrifying, and she didn’t believe that was going to be our story.

I do remember being in a hospital bed in the ICU, with an IV in my arm and fresh scars on my head and face from the craniotomy I had, a couple of weeks earlier (Melissa will fill you in on that). Having the IV in was especially terrifying because I hate needles and having things sticking out of my body. Like I said, I have no memory of anything from the night of my stroke to my present time in the hospital.

That is both a blessing and a bummer.

A blessing because a lot of gnarly things happened to me during those couple of months that I can’t remember – including surgery, having to wear a diaper, many pokes with needles (like IV’s) and seeing my family really distraught over my condition.

It was a bummer because I did have a lot of family come and visit me; my brother from Jersey that came out with his family, my parents, also from Jersey, my other brother who lives here; Melissa’s family – her 3 siblings and her mother from Northern California and her brother that lives in Texas, my cousins from down in Houston area (whom I haven’t seen in 20 years) and my sister-in-laws’ dad, who came all the way down from Washington state. I unfortunately can’t remember any of that either.

The love I must have felt then and the love I feel now from them is immeasurable. I have no doubt that the Lord used all that family visiting me to help with my recovery – even if I have no memory of it.

Even though the Lord knew that I wouldn’t remember any of my family being there and the comfort that they would bring, He knew that I needed to see them and  that I needed to know that I was loved and that people cared for me. 

One thing I did know, was that God always knew what I needed without me even having to ask. 

In theory, I’ve been a Christian for most of my life. I went to Bible College, was a church elder, etc. – I thought I knew quite a bit about my Christian faith.

Boy, was I wrong.

I have never experienced anything that takes the kind of real-world faith and trust that something like this takes. I feel like my faith and relationship with the Lord have grown more in the past 6-7 months than it has in all my years as a Christian.

Events like this can really put you at crossroads. You can either walk away from the Lord, bitter and confused at Him for what happened to you, or you can choose to run into His arms, knowing that the Lord has a purpose for your suffering and a plan for your life.

You just need to be patient in asking Him what His plan is for your life.

I still don’t know exactly why all this happened or what His plan or purpose is for all of this. But, I do know that getting closer to Him was definitely one of those reasons.

Suffering is a fact of life. In one way or another, life WILL slap you in the face. Some will get slapped harder than others, but it will happen. To all of us.  I know it’s easy to look on social media and think everyone else’s  life looks dreamy or perfect … that doesn’t make it true. If you haven’t heard it yet, you are hearing it now – social media is a highlight reel, a curated gallery of what people want you to see, not necessarily what actually is. 

And many times for good reason. 

I know for me, I hate putting my stuff out there. I don’t want to sit and whine about my life or how hard my day was to a bunch of people who will most likely read into it wrong, judge me, or who just had a really sucky day of their own and don’t have the bandwidth to hear about mine. So I guess I always find it funny when we get all bent out of shape about the superficial-ness of social media. I get it, it can get so  annoying, but if we were really honest with ourselves, we all are guilty of it. 

Maybe that’s why having a blog has felt a little different. If you’re here, you want to be. I don’t feel so bad going deeper into the hard stuff, because I feel a little less like I’m forcing it on you.  

These past few months have been full of grief. Yes, Cisco survived and has recovered way better than expected, but there are quite a few things that just aren’t the same. And that HURTS. When I really allow myself to look that fact full in the face, I fall apart. It’s been some time since I’ve allowed myself to, honestly. But it’s always there, reminders throughout every day that try to suck me down into what we’ve lost. 

Our lives weren’t perfect. Our marriage wasn’t perfect. We definitely had our share of stress, issues, and kids giving us gray hairs. 

But things were good.

And it’s not that things aren’t good now. There is so much good and every month there is progress. But there are some things that are just very different. And let me tell you, that is a difficult thing to wrap your head around when something like this happens so suddenly. You find yourself in this weird tandem of feeling so grateful – that he’s alive, that he’s not a vegetable, that he is able to walk and talk and remembers who you are – those suddenly become very real things to be thankful for!

And then there’s the other side, where the grief of what’s been lost will hit you out of nowhere, you remember what was and may never be again, and it feels like ice cold water being poured over your soul. I don’t know why, but that’s what it feels like. 

Grief.

I am familiar with this feeling, I experienced it so much after the fire. You’re just trucking along, folding laundry and minding your own business and suddenly it’s like your body and mind remembers. And you’re instantly sucked down into shock and the sadness of it all. If you know grief you know exactly what I’m talking about. 

Goodness and grief. Sadness and joy. I don’t know how they go together, but they do. We recently watched Inside Out again and I honestly love the portrayal of this dichotomy, because it really is so accurate. And beautiful, when we don’t fight against it and allow it to be that way. We have to lean into both, which can be difficult when you’re in the thick of it. But I know, from experience, God always, always brings so much beauty, goodness and joy, along with the pain. 

I have no talent.

I have nothing to say.

I can’t write.

I’m not cut out for this.

No one cares what I think.

I haven’t accomplished anything worth writing about.

These are just a few of the thoughts running through my head when Melissa suggested that we do this blog.  I admit that I have little to no experience with reading blogs, let alone writing one. The little experience that I do have with them is looking up recipes online and trying to get past the annoying blog post about how their grandmother passed this recipe down to them and how much their family loves it when they make it. I would just find the “jump to recipe” button as soon as the page opened up. All I wanted was a good chili recipe, I don’t need to know the name of your dog.

So why are we writing this with little to no writing experience, no blogging experience and a little bit of prejudice (at least in my case) to blogs in general?

The short answer is that we feel it’s what God has called us to do. 

Now that may seem grandiose or that we’re trying to be super spiritual and “holier than thou”, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. The long answer is that we feel that the Lord has brought us through some experiences and taken us to some places, where the Lord has taught us some things about ourselves and about Him and our relationship with Him, that might be worth sharing with others. Our hope and prayer is that the Lord will speak to others through our little posts. 

The truth is we, especially me, have fought this for a while. Like I said before, I didn’t/don’t think that I’m cut out for this. Neither Melissa nor I own a wide-brimmed hat, we don’t have a couple of Corgis running around and we don’t live in a barndominium in Tennessee. We don’t own/run a successful business, we don’t have a fruitful ministry, nor do we have a family farm. From my little experience and observation, I thought those were the prerequisites of starting a blog (and being a female, of course). Who wants to read what some no-wide-brimmed-wearing-hat-dude has to say? 

We will sprinkle our history throughout the entries, but here’s a quick rundown: We both went to Calvary Chapel Bible College in Murrieta, CA in 1999 (yes, the nineteen hundreds, before iPhones or Social Media). We met, became friends and started dating in 2000. We got married in November of 2001 and we have 4 kids and 2 cats. We currently live in the great state of Texas, but we have lived in a couple of different places, including: New Jersey, Northern California, Southern California, Colorado and finally, Texas.

While in those different states, I’ve worked a number of different jobs – landscaping, managing a couple of coffeeshops, climbing trees and working for an online bank. There are times that I feel bad/self-conscious about living in so many places and having so many jobs without a “real career”. I hate the fact that we have moved our kids all over the country and they haven’t been able to settle down in one neighborhood, school district or set of friends like Melissa and I did growing up.

But, I realize that our kids’ generation is not the same as ours and that my generation isn’t the same as our parents. My parents worked at the same places, doing the same things, for 30-plus years. Something I couldn’t even think of doing today. They live in the same house for almost as long, and here we are galivanting across the country, living in apartments and rentals, working random jobs and dragging our kids along with us.

I’ve tried the whole career thing – I really tried to stay at the same job (and state) for long periods of time. We really thought that every time we moved somewhere new it was going to be our forever home. But it never was. Even being in Texas now doesn’t mean that we’re going to be here forever. 

For whatever reason, the Lord has decided that we need to be nomads for the time being. Yes, it can be frustrating and discouraging, but deep down we know that the Lord has a plan and a purpose in all of this. As of yet we don’t know that is, but we are confident that He will work things out.

To be honest, it’s taken me years to get to this point of trusting the Lord with all this. Even with going to Bible college, even with being on staff at Calvary Chapel Conference Center,  even with teaching Church History at the Bible College, and helping plant a church, my faith still wavered and my frustration and doubt grew.

I seemingly had all the requirements to have solid faith and a good relationship with Him but that was not always the case. I was/am self-conscious,  self-doubting and quick to look down on myself. I’ve taken some of those traits and character flaws and brought them to my relationship with the Lord.

Looking back, I know the Lord was with us throughout all those moves, and job changes. We didn’t always actively seek Him when we did all those things, but I know we didn’t actively disobey Him either. He’s kept us safe, sane and together throughout all the changes and difficult times and this last and probably greatest trial we have had – my stroke – we have been able to see His hand and His love so clearly, that it’s undeniable that He is with us and He is working.

Sometimes, it feels like He is not there with you, or you made a decision without Him or that He’s done with you because you’ve messed up so many times. Rest assured that He is faithful and loving and that He promised that He will never leave us or forsake us. I still don’t know what the future holds for us, but I know that He is loving, faithful and that He is a good Father who holds the future.

I remember the night Cisco was admitted into the ICU. I had no idea what we were in for, no idea what to expect, and honestly had very little idea of what a stroke even was. No one in my family (at least to my knowledge) has ever had a stroke. Cancer? Heart issues? We are well acquainted, at least to some degree. But not strokes.

Strokes do run in Cisco’s family however, but we were fairly unaware (until recently) of just how much. So when we got his diagnosis I knew it was serious, that it was going to be a “long road” and that it was going to be a wait and see type of situation. I knew it was a blood clot in the brain, that some survivors are left paralyzed on one side and depending on the side where the stroke happened, certain abilities would be impaired. That was literally the extent of my stroke knowledge.

Looking back, I feel like this lack of knowledge and overall naiveté served me well in some ways. I had a lot of faith that he was going to shock everyone and come back swingin. Knowing what I know now, I don’t think I would have had that level of optimism and faith that God was going to do what the medical professionals were trying to tell me was impossible. I knew enough to know it was bad. What I didn’t know was just how bad it was about to get or how bad it could possibly get. And I am so thankful I didn’t.

I’m generally the type of person who loves to Google everything, find out as much as I can and prepare myself for the worst. I do not like unknowns and I do not like surprises. I researched enough about his specific type of stroke to generally know what we were dealing with. I also quickly found out how there was only so much Google and the doctors could tell me, because every neuro patient is different. There are so many factors that go into a patient’s recovery and how they rehabilitate it is nearly impossible to know what the outcome will be.

That first night in the ICU feels like a literal lifetime ago. SO much was about to happen, I had no idea what we were in for. Someone asked me the other day, if I could go back and tell myself one thing in those early days of his stroke, what would it be – and honestly, I don’t think I would’ve told myself anything I wasn’t already being told (which was very, very little). That might sound weird, but honestly, I don’t think I could’ve handled it. I was not ready to hear or know what we were in for.

If you have read Corrie Ten Boom’s book, The Hiding Place, there is a story she tells about her dad and the train ticket. He asks her,” when we go to Amsterdam, when do I give you the train ticket?” And she answers, “right before we get on the train”. And he tells her how our Father in heaven knows when we are going to need things too and not to try to run ahead of Him.

He doesn’t give us too much information too soon and He also doesn’t give us the strength we will need until the moment we need it. If I had known what was up ahead, the odds we were up against or the possibilities of what we were facing – I don’t know that I would’ve had the boldness to ask for the prayers I asked for or the boldness to pray the way I did.

He knew what I needed to know then and what I didn’t.

There have been many moments in the past few months where I have had a really hard time not knowing what his outcome would be. Literal hours and days full of tears because of the unknown and not knowing if things would ever be the same for him and us as a family again. How often do we think “if I could just see a few months ahead, how much easier this all would be to go through”, when in reality, that may not be the case at all! Sometimes things get worse before they get better.

Right now, we are still very much in the thick of it, even though on paper he is doing much better. There is still so much that is unknown and there is no end in sight on this recovery road we’re on. And that’s ok. Some days are super hard and emotional and some days we have so much optimism and faith for the future. Both feelings are real and true and we are learning to lean into all of it.

So friend, if you also find yourself in a place where life has been flipped upside down and there are a lot of questions and unknown’s and not a lot of answers…hang in there. He hasn’t forgotten us, He hasn’t lost our train tickets, He isn’t withholding information or good things. He’s preparing in us the necessary ground we will need for whatever is next and He knows when the time is right and we’re ready. He’s a good, good Father.