Summary of Carry On, Warrior: The Power of Embracing Your Messy, Beautiful Life - Book Summary (2016)

Part I. WAKING UP

Chapter 5. Chutes and Ladders

You know that mind-numbing kids’ game, Chutes and Ladders?

Not long ago I thought I had landed on a big chute.

I was driving the kids home from school, and my cell phone rang. It was my doctor. She told me that she had found Lyme disease and an indicator of lupus in my blood. Lyme disease: definitely; lupus: maybe.

I was tested because for weeks I’d been feeling exhausted and sore and cranky, which are all symptoms of autoimmune issues, but they are also just symptoms of motherhood, so we weren’t too worried. In my writing, I seem to be extra nice, and I am—at the keyboard and outside in the world—but in my house, I tend to relax. It’s hard to be on your best behavior all the time. So we thought maybe I just needed some more sleep or coffee. Until the doctor called.

I held the phone in one hand and peeled the kids out of the van with the other. I scurried to the front door and passed them off to Craig, pointed to the phone, and mouthed “doctor.” He distracted the kids so I could go back outside and pace up and down the driveway while listening to the confusing details. My doctor explained that since we caught the Lyme early, it was likely that I could beat it, but I would need to immediately begin a double-dose of an antibiotic known to make people very sick. Then she referred me to a specialist about the lupus because it was serious and incurable and my bloodwork looked quite suspicious.

Weird, I thought. I tried to pay attention, but the doctor’s voice faded in and out while I stared at the ridiculous metal reindeer in our front yard. I started daydreaming about being on Oprah—hailed as the quirky writer who singlehandedly discovered cures for her own incurable diseases. I planned what I would wear to the show. Something classy but whimsical. Then the doctor interrupted my outfit planning with some scary details and I started feeling like I was being pushed down that big chute—you know the one: just when you think you’ve about won the game, it forces you to start from the beginning. I felt powerless and slippery.

But then I went back inside. And here’s what happened in the wake of the Lymie, maybe-lupy news:

Craig and I got dressed up and drove into Washington, D.C., for a fancy dinner to benefit the International Justice Mission, the organization Sister worked with in Africa. There I learned more about slavery and human trafficking and the heroes who storm the darkness to help. I stared at my baby sister across the table, because she is one of those heroes. And I kept thinking of the sign that my friend Josie hung on her classroom wall that said, “We can do hard things.” And I thought a lot about how beautiful and powerful courage and faith are when they are found together. I thought, maybe I could be courageous and faithful, in my own little way. Then I went home and slept soundly.

At the crack of dawn the next morning, I called Bubba and Tisha to tell them the news, and they immediately started canceling plans so they could come and stay with us. This is exactly what I wanted them to do. I love when my mom and dad visit. One of my many secrets is that although I look like a grown-up (sort of), I am actually still a little girl who needs to be taken care of and brought snacks and blankets. Bubba sent me this message that day:

Keep your spirits up. Don’t waste your time and energy on negative thoughts. They will all be in the rearview mirror in a few short weeks.

We will get through this together.

Lots of help coming from Reedville.

We love you. Dad and Mom

After breaking the news to Bubba and Tisha, the girls and I drove to my friend Leigha’s house. Leigha has chronic Lyme disease, which has wreaked havoc on her life, family, and body. When I got to her house, we let our girls run wild while we sat on the couch and talked. I took notes while she told me every bit of information I needed to know about Lyme. She said that it made her feel grateful to be able to use her struggles to help me. I love Leigha, and I’ve always hated that when she talked to me about her disease and pain, I could sympathize but I couldn’t really understand. There was always a distance between us. On this visit, it felt strangely comforting to me that we were now in the same club. It might be a club that no one else would want to join, but it’s a special club just the same. A little Lymie club. Leigha and I became more like family that day, which made me feel cozy.

When the girls and I left Leigha’s, we went shopping. Before I knew I was Lymie, I had decided not to buy any extra Christmas decorations. We were trying to simplify because we are very deep and unmaterialistic. Also because money was extra tight (but money was really only 100 percent of the reason). This no-new-stuff rule was okay with me, since Christmas isn’t about shiny decorations. But after I found out I was Lymie, I decided that Christmas is a LITTLE about shiny decorations, so the girls and I bought a lot of them.

When we got home, I sent the kids down to the basement, begged them to be nice to each other, and e-mailed Christy. Christy and I have known each other for twenty years. She was by my side when I got drunk, sober, married, and Chase. She is like a beautiful, wise, funny security blanket. I e-mailed her and said I was sad because I seemed to have all of these diseases. She was as shocked and scared and annoyed as I needed her to be. After her initial response, which included lots of capital letters and italics and just the right amount of curses, she said that she was going out for the night but she would order some lime margaritas and get Lupy in my honor.

That night I started my meds, which were supposed to make me very sick. These pills are serious. For example, after taking them, you have to stand up for twenty minutes because if you lie down, the pills could get stuck in your throat and burn a hole in your esophagus. Anyway, after standing for twenty straight minutes without sitting or lying down, by far the hardest part of Lyme so far, Craig and I snuggled in bed with his laptop to watch a movie. He asked me how I was feeling every few minutes, which I love. Halfway through the movie I got thirsty, so I said, “I’m not feeling so good,” and Craig popped out of bed and literally ran to the kitchen to get me ginger ale. I actually felt fine, just extra warm and cozy and unsure about movement. But I don’t think it’s necessary to share everything all the time. Besides, being cared for by Craig makes being sick worth it.

Craig let me sleep in the next morning, and when I finally crept out to the family room, there was a fire in the fireplace, blocks and Christmas books everywhere, Christmas music playing, and four Meltons on the floor relaxing in their jammies. I joined them, and after several hours of playing like this, the thought crossed my mind that I should probably go do something productive, like Christmas or grocery shopping. Then I thought, but How can I POSSIBLY DO ANYTHING? I have LYME, for Pete’s sake. So we stayed in front of the fire in our pajamas and read books and laughed and ate junk food all day. That night we went to Gena’s house, where we shared a magical evening of old friends and delicious food and a visit from Santa. We hugged and laughed until we cried, and then we expressed our awe that a group of sorority sisters could turn into a mob of women and husbands and babies and love so quickly. We had helped each other grow up, and now we were watching our children grow up together. Together is so good. Not easy, but good.

✵ ✵ ✵

Here’s what I learned in the wake of my Lyme news: it’s really hard to distinguish between a chute and a ladder. The days following my diagnosis were filled with little miracles. Maybe all my days are filled with little miracles, but I’m too distracted by what I think is my life to notice them. Sometimes bad news is the best way to see all the good quickly and clearly. Bad news has a way of waking us up, sort of like a glass of cold water in the face. We might prefer waking in a gentler way, but we can’t argue with the efficiency of the cold-water method. And we’ll take it if it means we’re not going to sleep through the party.