It has been, in essence, a week since the biopsy, and the lab tech told me they would have the results by either the next day or if they had to send it out to be stained, in a couple of days. The doctor's office was to call me, and set up an appointment.
I decide enough time has passed, and I call them. I congratulate myself on figuring out which number to call, and "to find out the results of a test, press 3" is music to my ears. I press 3. Recorded voice "all our operators are busy helping other people. please stay on the line and we will get to your calls in the order received" repeats a half dozen times.
No matter, I am at my computer and work while I wait. I get the receptionist, tell her what I want, she takes the message and says she will contact the nurse and have her call me. I get optimistic and give her my work number.
In fact, in half an hour, the nurse does call me right before I leave. She can't tell me the results. The doctor will do that, and she is out of town today. But she will give me the results when I see her for my appointment on Friday.
Wait. I have an appointment on Friday? Turns out I do, at 10:30. Good thing I called since no one had told me about that. The nurse apologizes, and says I would have gotten a reminder call tomorrow at least. Well, no matter. I know about it now, and fortunately I am not scheduled to be teaching or on desk (amazing how God cleared my calendar - the only day of the week that is *not* back to back meetings and duties).
I am beginning to relax in God's care again. You would think that after all the times I have trusted Him and He has undertaken on my behalf, I would have that lesson under my belt. But I am surprised to learn that I have forgotten and that's probably why I have been so tired and grumpy. Remember the birds. Remember the too-many-to-count times when He delivered you before. Just relax. As they say, no worries. Not because I take a chill pill, but because I have Someone taking care of me Who happens to be the Creator of the Universe. I think He can handle the job.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Pudgy Birds
I sat in the car and shivered in the morning chill as I waited for Drew to come out. He was finishing packing his lunch, and I wanted to make sure I didn't need to scrape frost from the windows again. Just fog, no frost. I yawned and flipped through the radio stations for something interesting, to no avail. I switched it off and fussed about the time: 7:02. Hurry up, Drew!
I looked towards the door to see if he were coming, and I noticed a half dozen birds twittering about the steps, hopping from one to the other, picking at microscopic stuff. I smiled, half amused. Those steps are always littered with junk - cigarette butts, scraps of paper, food wrappings, broken bits of irrelevant stuff that escaped from some carelessly carried bag of trash. Not usually much in the line of food, but the occasional chunk of pretzel or toast crust.
I know the apartment complex hires someone to clean up from time to time, but it doesn't seem to make much difference. Sometimes I think I should come out and clean up myself for a few days and see if anyone notices. But I resist, mostly due to lack of energy. They guy who does it is far from young and looks totally unenamored with his lot.
As I watch the little brown and gray birds, I wonder that they can actually hop up the tall step, they all seem quite plump and well rounded. I see that they flutter their wings a little and it looks effortless, but why are they so fat? Are they young and have their 'baby fat' still clinging to them? I know its fall and there is plenty of stuff to munch. Perhaps they have put on extra against the coming winter. It must be difficult to hoist all that weight up and down those steps for almost no return. Yet they are in constant motion, hopping, pecking, fluttering, chirping. Its quite entertaining.
They keep at it until Drew exits the building, then they scatter in a dozen directions, chirping wildly. As Drew climbs into the car, I think of a good verse (we have a "mini-devotion" together in the mornings as we drive to the carpool pickup site: I ask him to quote a verse from memory and pray over the day [he spiels of a form of 'thankyouforthisdayblessusandhelpxxx(whatever he is most concerned about)]). Sometimes he gets stuck thinking of a verse and falls back on the one he was learning when we first started this tradition "Come O House of Jacob let us walk in the light of the Lord" - its rather a standing joke for us.
Anyway, I digress. The verse that came into my head was: Matthew 10:29-31 "Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father.
But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows."
I am not sure why anyone would want to buy a sparrow. I assume to either eat or sacrifice. But I take the point and smile. God's gentle reminder that He cares about me, cares about my energy levels, the biopsy (why haven't they called me?), the little aches and pains. No need to kavetch. I will just rest in the knowledge that He is intimately interested in my wellbeing, and remember that He is well suited for the task.
I looked towards the door to see if he were coming, and I noticed a half dozen birds twittering about the steps, hopping from one to the other, picking at microscopic stuff. I smiled, half amused. Those steps are always littered with junk - cigarette butts, scraps of paper, food wrappings, broken bits of irrelevant stuff that escaped from some carelessly carried bag of trash. Not usually much in the line of food, but the occasional chunk of pretzel or toast crust.
I know the apartment complex hires someone to clean up from time to time, but it doesn't seem to make much difference. Sometimes I think I should come out and clean up myself for a few days and see if anyone notices. But I resist, mostly due to lack of energy. They guy who does it is far from young and looks totally unenamored with his lot.
As I watch the little brown and gray birds, I wonder that they can actually hop up the tall step, they all seem quite plump and well rounded. I see that they flutter their wings a little and it looks effortless, but why are they so fat? Are they young and have their 'baby fat' still clinging to them? I know its fall and there is plenty of stuff to munch. Perhaps they have put on extra against the coming winter. It must be difficult to hoist all that weight up and down those steps for almost no return. Yet they are in constant motion, hopping, pecking, fluttering, chirping. Its quite entertaining.
They keep at it until Drew exits the building, then they scatter in a dozen directions, chirping wildly. As Drew climbs into the car, I think of a good verse (we have a "mini-devotion" together in the mornings as we drive to the carpool pickup site: I ask him to quote a verse from memory and pray over the day [he spiels of a form of 'thankyouforthisdayblessusandhelpxxx(whatever he is most concerned about)]). Sometimes he gets stuck thinking of a verse and falls back on the one he was learning when we first started this tradition "Come O House of Jacob let us walk in the light of the Lord" - its rather a standing joke for us.
Anyway, I digress. The verse that came into my head was: Matthew 10:29-31 "Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father.
But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows."
I am not sure why anyone would want to buy a sparrow. I assume to either eat or sacrifice. But I take the point and smile. God's gentle reminder that He cares about me, cares about my energy levels, the biopsy (why haven't they called me?), the little aches and pains. No need to kavetch. I will just rest in the knowledge that He is intimately interested in my wellbeing, and remember that He is well suited for the task.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Frost!
Drew was all excited. Snow was in the forecast for late Sunday evening. He was rather disappointed that it had not appeared before he went to bed at 11. I myself was tired and hit the sheets at 9:30. I slept well and woke at 6am, but wasn't exactly hopping out of bed with glee.
Fortunately, Drew decided that this was a get-up-early day and I didn't have to call him repeatedly. We hustle to get things ready and get out the door on time - except that I hadn't counted on needing to clear the frost from the windows! In fact, it may well have snowed last night just a dusting. The windows and wipers were frozen in position and not budging.
Drew scraped the frost from the windows while I tried to heat the car enough to clear the fog off and free the wiper blades. You would think with all that bracing cold air I would be wide eyed and full of energy. Not so. In fact, after I deliver the kids to school, I pull over in a Starbuck's parking lot and rest. This is not good.
I manage to summon enough strength to drive home, grateful that my shaking knees still manage to navigate the front steps. I trudge into the apartment and begin shedding as I head for my bedroom. Purse on the table, keys on the shelf, coat on the floor where it fell off, shoes in the hallway, letting each thing fall wherever it landed, finally making it to the bed where I collapse in a heap, pull the blankets up to my neck and sigh.
Not a problem to get back to sleep. I am more worried that I will not wake up! The kitchen is a mess from Drew's after-Mom-goes-to-bed foraging. I know I need to pick up and clean. I have to make a lunch and dinner because this is my late night. I wanted to take a jacket to the tailors to have the sleeves shortened. That will have to wait.
Right now, I rest. This is ridiculous, but it is what it must be. Why am I *so* tired? I am not anemic. My chemo exhaustion times don't usually last this long, especially lately. I get a day maybe of feeling a bit tired, but this is bone-weary-can't-even-think-about-moving tiredness.
Never mind. I will just lay still and pray. I fall in and out of sleep. After an hour and a half, the phone rings and jolts me awake. I seem to be able to get up and clean the kitchen, then sit in a chair and rest a bit more before I have to go out the door. Wow!
Sure hope this passes soon. Not that I feel pressure here (one of the reasons I like my job so much). Things are easy going, and I need that right now. But pah-leeze! There may be frost on the windows and fire in the carburetor, but the wheels just don't move.
Fortunately, Drew decided that this was a get-up-early day and I didn't have to call him repeatedly. We hustle to get things ready and get out the door on time - except that I hadn't counted on needing to clear the frost from the windows! In fact, it may well have snowed last night just a dusting. The windows and wipers were frozen in position and not budging.
Drew scraped the frost from the windows while I tried to heat the car enough to clear the fog off and free the wiper blades. You would think with all that bracing cold air I would be wide eyed and full of energy. Not so. In fact, after I deliver the kids to school, I pull over in a Starbuck's parking lot and rest. This is not good.
I manage to summon enough strength to drive home, grateful that my shaking knees still manage to navigate the front steps. I trudge into the apartment and begin shedding as I head for my bedroom. Purse on the table, keys on the shelf, coat on the floor where it fell off, shoes in the hallway, letting each thing fall wherever it landed, finally making it to the bed where I collapse in a heap, pull the blankets up to my neck and sigh.
Not a problem to get back to sleep. I am more worried that I will not wake up! The kitchen is a mess from Drew's after-Mom-goes-to-bed foraging. I know I need to pick up and clean. I have to make a lunch and dinner because this is my late night. I wanted to take a jacket to the tailors to have the sleeves shortened. That will have to wait.
Right now, I rest. This is ridiculous, but it is what it must be. Why am I *so* tired? I am not anemic. My chemo exhaustion times don't usually last this long, especially lately. I get a day maybe of feeling a bit tired, but this is bone-weary-can't-even-think-about-moving tiredness.
Never mind. I will just lay still and pray. I fall in and out of sleep. After an hour and a half, the phone rings and jolts me awake. I seem to be able to get up and clean the kitchen, then sit in a chair and rest a bit more before I have to go out the door. Wow!
Sure hope this passes soon. Not that I feel pressure here (one of the reasons I like my job so much). Things are easy going, and I need that right now. But pah-leeze! There may be frost on the windows and fire in the carburetor, but the wheels just don't move.
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