By the way, have you heard that one-third of my cancer is gone?
I think it is just now sinking in. I realized this week that I have had 6 abdominal CT scans (or maybe 7, I may have lost track of one) and besides this one, I’ve only had one other scan after which I got good news.
So before the nurse practitioner came in the room and shared the news, I was a nervous wreck. I thanked God that I wasn’t like that all weekend. Only in the hour or so before getting the results Monday morning was I anxious at all. I was by myself. Brian had intended to go with me, but Scott got sick Sunday night so Brian had to be home with him Monday morning. As I sat alone in that small room, in silence, I steeled myself for bad news. I mistakenly thought that I could keep myself from becoming emotional – for little did I know that the good news would bring tears of relief and tears of joy to my eyes immediately.
With this good news comes a renewed lightness to my steps. I am a little tired of taking myself, taking life, so seriously.
So, in sad news: My hair is thinning.
In happy news: I have thick hair so I don’t think it’s too noticeable yet. Oh wait, I just told everyone who knows me, on the internet. May be hat shopping soon.
In sad news: um, nope, I think I’m all out of sad news
In happy news: My great hubs took me out to a delicious dinner at Mere Bulles last night (thank you to the gift card givers – you know who you are and I love you! Ditto to the awesome childcare – Mike and Michelle) What a treat- to enjoy a meal together and have totally adult conversation. And what joy to enjoy the taste of food again.
Oh, just thought of sad news: Have had to start watching my portions again when I eat…
In happy news: My very own website is in the works! I’m about to pop I’m so excited about it. I might be partially spilling the beans a little early so I might be in trouble. Brian Holaway (www.brianholaway.com – check him out, maybe then I won’t be in trouble) is doing all the hard work that I know NOTHING about and he is a faith-filled treasure. When he and I first sat down to discuss ideas, he said, “Now, if I were to suddenly die tomorrow, all my work, all my passwords, etc, can be accessed by my friend so you won’t just be out of luck.” This was not a question I would have ever thought to ask. Bless him, he wasn’t worried about my brevity of life and him doing a lot of work that would just go down the tube, but was aware that NONE of us are guaranteed tomorrow. Yes, I think I will work with you. My kind of fella!
So I will be leaving Caringbridge and moving to my own little corner of the vast worldwide web. I am excited about being able to post more pictures, write a little more, make the posts a little more interesting, I hope. It will be linked to Facebook and other social media and hopefully have the ability to continue e-mailing you when I post.
If you don’t like it, well, sorry, but it’s your fault. You keep telling me you enjoy my writing. So I want to keep doing it! (I’m smiling at you as I say this – I hope you are smiling back…)
In other happy news: I just finished 20 minutes on my elliptical machine. 9 weeks ago I got noticeably short of breath talking on the telephone. I did 20 minutes of moderate exercise today.
Oh God, you are so good.
Still taking it one day at a time. Still praying hard that the cancer regression continues. Today, this day, the sun is shining and I feel good.
My heavenly Father – It is a joy to be your child today. Thank you for this day. I rejoice in it for you have made it. Thank you for energy, for the shining sun. I eagerly anticipate going into your house tomorrow, singing your praises, honoring your Son, hearing your sweet words, having a meal with you, and spending the first few hours of my week visiting with you, my Father. Remembering that soon, very soon, we will not be separated at all; for your Son is preparing a room for me in your true, eternal house. And there we can visit as much as we want! What joy! Until then, how I love our weekly tradition of time together; me and my Papa, the King of Kings.