Convocation

This year, Bishop David Roller is the featured speaker at our opening gathering time. I have come to appreciate the pomp and fuss of this event, proud to be able to wear the appropriate robes and be identified with my school and profession. The music is inspiring, the announcement of faculty honors awarded significant.

I have heard Bishop Roller's name mentioned a number of times as featured speaker for various functions but have never been able to attend any of them as my duties required my presence elsewhere. I look forward to finally meeting him and hearing what he has to say. He is an engaging story teller who relates to us, with modern commentary and insertion of current details, a story from the Bible. He is entertaining and thought provoking.

I wait for the application, the "in light of this, what ought I to do differently" part. But he does not give us that. He ends the story and sits down! No conclusions drawn. This is new. Now I will have to think about the story and listen to the Spirit for myself. How unusual. And how interesting. I am sure what I need to glean from the story is not the same as what others need to hear.

I mention this twist to several colleagues. They noticed it too. Some of them try to tell me what the conclusions are that Bishop Roller inferred. I smile. I did not hear that. I do not want to hear that. I have my own ideas and I want to allow them to develop, to see where it leads me. How refreshing to discover someone who doesn't have all the answers, who isn't trying to fill my ears with rhetoric and thou shalt nots. You get so tired of that.

I make a mental note. Next time I am asked to speak, see if I can model after this approach. I will be thinking about his story for awhile, wrestling with the many facets encountered. That's a good thing.

E is for E-ikes!

I knew I only had a few dollars to tide me over to payday, so when my gas tank was getting low, rather than fill it up, I only put in enough to get me through - what cash I happened to have in my purse. I happily went on my way secure in the knowledge that I would fill it up later. Then I ended up having to go extra places due to one thing and another. Using more gas than just what it takes to get from home to work and back. Drew had materials due at the library, I ran out of eggs and made a trip to the store - you know, all those little things that make life so busy.

So I was headed to the east side of the city for a medical test when I suddenly, grace of God, happened to look at my gas gauge. Yikes! Talk about going on a whisper and a prayer! I was on Jefferson Road before it turns commercial, sailing along meadows and railroad tracks and horses contentedly munching grass. The traffic ahead of me was going an agonizing ten miles under the speed limit.

Lord, please help me not to run out of gas before I get to a gas station! I do mental calisthenics trying to think where the nearest gas station is. I know if I just stay on this road, there is one a few miles ahead. Can I make it that far? I have no way to know and there is nothing I can do but keep driving and get as far as I can. I grip the steering wheel tighter as if that would somehow make the gas go farther. I sit at attention, knowing I need to be in the left lane, but if I run out of gas, that isn't a good place to be.

Minutes tick by. I get three red lights. Finally, up ahead, I can see the Hess station green and white sign. I have only yards to go. Oncoming traffic is heavy. Please don't let me stall out waiting to turn! I glance at the red needle. It is well below the E. I see a small opening and I take it, quickly turning into the station and halting before the first available pump. Made it! Thank God.

As I fill the tank, I can't help wondering if my forgetfulness is chemo related or just old age. No matter. Crisis avoided and I will make my appointment OK.

Never Do Scans After Chemo

My oncologist decided that part of the followup of my symptom complaint is to run CT scans now (as opposed to in 3 more months) to make sure there is no cancer activity especially in light of the throat doctor's identification of new nodules in my neck area. Because of the delay in chemo, I am having to do scans right after getting Rituxan. So on top of no rest for the weary and the crunch of working during the 3 day window of feeling yukky, I am now forced to make Monday extra long by going for scans at 6 pm. Nothing to eat or drink 4 hours beforehand, so hungry and thirsty too.


The nurse brings me my 2 bottles of barium to drink, one 8 ounce glass every ten minutes until scan time. My portions are chilled and have a slight citrus flavor. I watch the TV monitors as CNN news reporters try their best to make mountains out of molehills, repeatedly reviewing every possible gory detail of a story no one really cares about, in hopes of creating shock and anger where no reaction is forthcoming. Two other scan victims in the waiting area are quaffing white gunk and ticking off the required eight rounds. Too bad there isn't some incentive for this like your hair gets stronger or your nails grow an inch.

I am full to almost nauseous when they finally call my name. I sit in another small room waiting for the machine to be available, then am taken back to my old friend, Joe Scanner. He has not changed one iota since last we met. I obediently climb up on his tongue and am dipped into the maw repeatedly so they can take pictures of my internal creepy crawlies. A quick ten minutes and I am free to slip my earrings back on and leave.

I consider getting dinner, now that its 7:30, but I am not up for it. In fact, I am aching everywhere. My legs are numb with neuropathy. My arms feel so heavy I can barely turn the steering wheel. I manage to get home, crawl inside and up the stairs and lie in bed wishing I had some magic wand to make the barium pass and the body stop hurting. I do not have a magic wand. Sugar snuggles next to my legs, sympathizing, but I push her away. Any little pressure is painful.

I take my Divine Hours book, turn to Monday compline reading, slowly whisper the words to myself. My hope is in God. I trust in God. He hears and delivers me from all my troubles. Lord, give me a peaceful night and a comfortable end of day. Be with me through the long dark night. Send your angels to watch over me until morning's light. And please let my body stop aching. Amen.

I set the book down. It is too painful to turn over, so I just lie still. Songs from my childhood float through my mind. My Lord knows the way through the wilderness. All I have to do it follow. Strength f0r today is mine all the way, and all that I need for tomorrow. I drift off at last.