A Quick Trip to the ER

The sharp shooting pains in my legs come and go with less worries to me than an annoyance that quit frankly keep me singing the "Oooouuuch song". It's a lovely tune really - for the dogs!!! Anyhoot, I haven't thought much of them, hoping they are evidence of my legs coming alive. My oncologist increased my Gabapentin dose to help with these pains and this extra dosage has helped. That's why it was a shock when I woke this morning with a persistant pain in my right heel that moved by evening to the back of my right thigh. This concerned my sister enough to call the oncologist office to see if this should concern us. "Okay, I'll take her in," I heard her say on the phone. My "Oooouuuch song" changed it's tune quickly!! I didn't want to go to the hospital; but yes, I went. She and the doctor were concern that this pain was caused by a blood clog -- which can be...fatal :( The excruciating pain subsided when I agreed to going to the hospital and didn't pick up again until we got the good news - no clogs :) Ah, the mind is a powerful source. I should keep this in mind when I let my mind wander!! All this to say the trip to and from the hospital was less than 3 hours and we know that I'm clog free. The pain is most likely from the nerves. AND now I have a short and sweet hospital visit in my memory to offset my month hospital tour!

Am I A Walking Contradiction?

My faith stands firm in my heart yet my actions contradict nearly everything I stand for. The days go by fast with little to nothing accomplished. Tears are a daily activity. My faith and courage have been sacrificed for lazy days. I've forfeited strength for weakness; hope for despair, love for loneliness, and community for isolation. My heart soaks up the love that is bestowed me yet my mind wanders to places it surely shouldn't go -- the temptations to feel sorry for my self seems the easier path -- a path I'm sure has a ring leader of God's own enemy. I fight head aches, blurred vision, heavy legs, random shooting pains, sore arms, tight shoulders and more. I fear going to sleep on account of the restlessness that has accompanied so many sleepless nights. I'm not a psychologist however observing my behavior I can't help but label my mood as melancholy. Are my defeated actions evidence of depression? In my pain and fear and confusion I've been told I've spoken harshly; in my ugliness I've offended others. I beg for grace and mercy to be extended. Can my broken heart authentically express its hopelessness without being ugly? I'm just wondering. I'm praying and hoping that my character superseded any hint of appalling tones and words. I am sad, I am overwhelmed, I am confused, I am discouraged. Still, Jesus died on the cross for my sins and He loves me. I know I can approach Him in my imperfection and He will extend grace, mercy and forgiveness. I know I have a place in heaven and this fills my heart with hope.

Oversized Love Note :)

This card arrived in the mail last week. I have it hanging at the end of my bed and it makes the perfect good morning & good night reminder of the love that surrounds me. Thank you for the perfect love note girls & gang :)

It's Amazing...

how little I get done with so much time. My list of things to do is nothing to fear really; however knowing that I have all day to get it done lead me to major putzing with days ending with nothing done. More later...I have to go putz for a while :)

Chemo = Sleepy Time

I was fortunate enough to experience little to no side effects during my chemo yet these last two weeks have me taking naps in the afternoon and by the evening I closely resemble a zombie. I love my naps! Nap time is usually around 1pm if anyone needs to dodge work and get some z's feel free to stop by with your blanky and pillow!

A Judge, A Critic & A Slanderer

First I thought I was judgemental -- I have an opinion about everything which comes from observation and therefore it must be correct. Then I thought, no I'm just critical -- which coincidentally also comes from my opinion which is based on observation and yes, therefore, it must also be correct. Unfortunately, I see that regardless of what I call myself, when I share my opinion with another if I deface the name of who I'm talking about I'm a slanderer. Slander, gossip, and the like are sins and unfortunately one that I've been very good at masking as just an opinion based on my observation. Having said all that, I'm prayerful that my eyes see the righteousness in those around me and stops expecting things to look a certain way ;) . In this season God's growing me up!!

It's Not Easy To Be Me.

It's Not Easy To Be Me. , Five For Fighting I can't stand to fly I'm not that naive I'm just out to find The better part of me I'm more than a bird: I'm more than a plane More than some pretty face beside a train It's not easy to be me Wish that I could cry Fall upon my knees Find a way to lie About a home I'll never see It may sound absurd: but don't be naive Even Heroes have the right to bleed I may be disturbed: but won't you concede Even Heroes have the right to dream It's not easy to be me Up, up and away: away from me It's all right: You can all sleep sound tonight I'm not crazy: or anything: I can't stand to fly I'm not that naive Men weren't meant to ride With clouds between their knees I'm only a man in a silly red sheet Digging for kryptonite on this one way street Only a man in a funny red sheet Looking for special things inside of me It's not easy to be me. In no way do I believe I'm comparable to a superhero still the encouraging words from so many make it sound like I'm something special. This is hard to stomach when my eyes see the core of my heart which exposes an ugliness that is rarely revealed. I'm thankful, grateful and touched by the words and most cause tears. I don't know how to be me. Just months ago my independence was not in question and I though nothing of the things I did on a daily bases. Today my daily activities are dependent on others, my schedule is not my own and independence looks like getting my own drink out of my dorm refrigerator. It's not easy to be me. It's not easy to be you. What is it like to be you? To look at me, the once independent person, rely on you for everything. To wait on me from dawn to dusk. To have our fun and adventure days altered to something more subdue; something with less zeal. My ability to adapt is slow, what about for you who deal with me and my loss of independence? I assume the ability for you to adapt is equally challenging. I have no idea what it's like to be you and my mind wanders to feelings of guilt, pity and sorrow. I think about it often enough and I don't know who has it worse: me, or you. So who's the strong one? Who's the real superhero? Not me. The ones deserving the praise, the real superheros is everyone who's done even one of the countless, endless acts of service.