The Dragon Revisited

I have a tendency to remember a place based on the feelings and vibe I had the last time I was there. This isn’t always fair, but it is the way my brain is wired. Thankfully it doesn’t always stop me from going back to a place. This is good because it gives me the opportunity to re-define a place and think of it with fonder thoughts.

Yesterday I dropped Chris off at Vanderbilt so he could have his port removed. Now that he is done with chemo, and there is no evidence of the cancer at this time, it is safe to remove it. He has had it for eleven months now.

I chose to stay close by at Dragon Park so I could be there quickly to pick him up. No one knew how long it would take and I didn’t want to come all the way home just to be here for an hour and then have to leave again.

The last time I was at Dragon Park was a mess. I had dropped Chris off to be seen by the doctor. He had only been home two days after his first post-op chemo round. It was a 5 day inpatient stay. He got so dehydrated he couldn’t pee and he could not stop throwing up. He only has one kidney now and I was fearing it would shut down if we didn’t fix things fast. We had to leave in a hurry so I had minimal supplies. The kids were hungry, Claire was screaming (she hated her car seat), and I was mega stressed. So I take the kids to a drive through. I figured we could eat at the park and I would let the kids play while I waited to find out if Chris would be admitted.

I get everyone fed, including Claire, and the kids play for awhile. Claire wakes up and I need to change her diaper. This two year old boy walks over and stares at my task. His mom comes over and tells him to leave us alone, then says, “Wait, maybe he should watch this. He is going to have a little sister in a few weeks.” Really? I am very protective of my girl’s privacy so that was unpleasant for me.

Then everyone has to go pee. We get to the bathroom and there is a maintenance man in there. He said, “I’m sorry, I just shut them off for the season about five minutes ago.”

“Are you serious??!” I ask.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“Um, I have three kids here who need to pee. What am I supposed to do? Is there a bathroom close by?"

“There are some port-a-potties over there.”

Right. Love those.

“Thanks.”

Sigh

“OK, kids. Let’s do this.”

Thank God I had the stroller for Claire. I had two boys stay with her as I take each child in one at a time to the pit. Really, I would have rather had them pee on the ground if it wasn’t a public park. It would have been cleaner, fresher, and less nauseous. Since they aren’t really tall enough to use those right I have them stand at the side of the seat, up on the ledge, and then aim for the pretty blue water. My job is to give them something to hold on to that isn't infected and make sure they are balanced. They are always afraid I will drop them in. Are you kidding?? First of all, I love you, my offspring. Secondly, I don’t want to reach in to pull anything out. Ugh.

In no order as to protect their fragile little feelings, here is how it went.

I get the first boy through the whole process mostly OK. Then the second one I grab isn’t too much of a problem. On to the last wary child. He gets so scared I will cast him into the abyss that he freaks. The end result is I get to experience a stream of warm pee for a couple of seconds until he gets a grip on himself. You know, there are just no words here…

To top it off we find out they are admitting Chris and we could have just gone home all along.

At home we all take hot showers. I soap twice. Chris ends up staying in the hospital another week before it is safe for him to come home.

Yesterday was so much better. While I get a bit nervous for any procedure done on him, it was the first positive procedure. It was the first thing they did that indicated he was on the road to a cure.

The day was beautiful. I had packed us a healthy lunch. We knew Chris was coming home. I forgot the stroller! I was a bit miffed at that, but… the bathrooms were open!

I Might Put My Shoulders Down

Annnnnnnnnd... cue the large sigh.  It's here. It's really here.  A year is gone and Chris is actually done with treatment, and we are left with a good word.  A year ago I was trying to figure out how I could be a single mom.  I was sure this was going to go south.  A year ago I had to tell the boys their dad had cancer.  I realized today that this has been like a pregnancy in a way.  Of course a pregnancy is a much happier event.  Would you believe at least like labor?  Look at it this way.  It has been months of waiting.  Lots of pain.  Now, after the pain, relief and new life.  Like labor, now that it is over I don't really remember how bad it hurt.  At least right now.  I am just so relieved for it to be finished.  Chris had a clean CT scan today, his first scan post chemo.  Chris has "no evidence of viable disease."  We can't say "cure" or "remission".  That's OK.  I am a realist and a skeptic, so I would much rather call it like it is.  The road still stretches before us and we can't see what is around the bend.  A year down the road has taught me a lot.  I am different now but I don't want to be who I was before.  I can hardly believe we got a miracle we don't deserve.  Chris was not expected to do this well.  Witnessing the power of prayer is pretty special.
I have this muscle in my left shoulder that gets very sore when I am stressed or carry something too long.  It is my cue that I need to relax and pay attention to my body.  Today I felt like I could put my shoulders down and release the tension.  If that feeling is just for today, well that is one more day than I have had for a whole year.

Jeremiah 32:17

Ah, Sovereign LORD, you have made the heavens

 and the earth by your great power

 and outstretched arm.  Nothing is too hard for you.

Don't Froo Froo up my Chocolate

Chris bought a bar of “gourmet” chocolate the other day. He doesn’t eat “normal” chocolate often. First of all, for him the darker the better. This to me is as fun as eating coffee grounds. I will eat dark chocolate if there is no other chocolate option, but let’s face it - a little milk and sugar go a long way when married with that cocoa. Then he likes to buy weird stuff like a chocolate bacon bar. No, bacon fat doesn’t make everything better.
So he buys this bar with black sesame seeds, ginger, and wasabi. Dark chocolate of course. It wasn’t too bad, I do like ginger. Here is what just killed me: directions on the back for how to “enjoy a gourmet chocolate bar.” Hmmmm. OK.
The first thing you are to do is breathe. By doing this apparently you will “quiet the chattering mind and be in the present moment.” Just by eating the chocolate my mind will feel better. How about quieting my chattering kids? Now that can make a mama wanna be present.
Next you are to see. Yes, because I can see I have picked out the chocolate. If I could not see I would find it by smell. I will not put off the satisfaction of taste in order to appreciate some hidden beauty in the bar’s “glossy shine.” Unless it is as dry as chalk I will eat it and don’t care if there is a flawless temper.
The third step is to snap the bar in two with your hands and witness the internal structure and ingredients. My teeth work great to snap and break chocolate. The aesthetics of what you put in chocolate do not impress me. Why don’t you wow me with some ooey gooey caramel or finger likin’ good peanut butter? In my house when you break a bar in two with your hands it is then assumed you are preparing to share. That is a dangerous commitment. Better to shove the whole thing in at once so it is either unseen or no longer desired by others.
If you still have chocolate left and are dreamily admiring it then you should now taste. Yes, finally. “Break the chocolate into small pieces that spread across your tongue, pause.” I think I have established that I would have already broken the chocolate with my teeth and that pausing is dangerous. I do not have time to pause with a mouthful of anything. I like to keep my mouth ready for the next bite and to dole out the next bit of redirection for the offspring. Also in this step you are to repeat breathing. Just in case you stopped, and in that case you are not conscious now. The person giving you mouth to mouth will appreciate the chocolate you have left there for them to savor. If you did remember to breathe then “based on your sensory history” you will now taste subtle flavors based on smell. Check.
Finally you are to sense. I think we have been working on that already, no? I sense chocolate makes me feel better. The children sense mama has something they might want. I sense I need to hide what I cannot consume in one sitting. I sense I am not a frilly, gourmet chocolate kinda girl.
I am real. I like me some good chocolate. But if I find a year old Hershey’s kiss in good condition I will not turn up my nose and toss it out. I will breathe a sigh of relief, smell the sweet goodness as the wraper comes off, see my good luck, snap it in two with my molars, taste the creamy, chocolaty goodness, and sense the relief flood over me as I consume the unexpected treat.
I can clean up nice, but the real me is not afraid to get dirty. If you can live in a world where you have time to swirl your wine and take several steps to enjoy your dessert, then you go for it. I am happy for you that you have the luxury, really I am. I don’t, and that is fine by me too. I am going to stick my sparkly, painted toes in the creek with the kids while chompin’ my Hershey’s.

Don't Rock the Boat

While I wanted to write something funny and witty this morning, it was more of a serious thought that greeted my conscious mind when the birds woke me up. Last night I had a surprise party for Chris to celebrate the end of cancer treatment for him. When I say “I” had the party that is only partially true. I only did a fraction of the work because I have awesome friends that are always jumping in to help me.
I wanted to celebrate because it has been a really tough year for us. Last April was when Chris got his first diagnosis of cancer. I have the privilege of hindsight now. Though it was the worst year of my life in many ways, it was also amazing and exactly what I needed. I grew spiritually, felt God’s presence in breathtaking and new ways, made extraordinary friendships, learned to prioritize better, and was forced to meet up with mortality face to face.
But who, you ask, wants to feel mortality’s cool breath on their face? Who wants to look into those unwavering and knowing eyes? We can’t sweep mortality under the rug, so we set it up next to the other gorillas in the corner of the room and strategically set a lamp in front of it. Logic says fearing what we can’t predict or know fully is foolish. Emotions hinder the logic mind and allow fear to do its damage. So as an emotional person who has snatches of logical thinking, here is my take on the whole matter.
If you are riding in a canoe or other easily overturned craft with another person, what do you wish of that person? Don’t rock the boat. Don’t put me in danger of going overboard. If you go out on the ocean in anything that floats, be it a surf board or a cruise liner, what are you concerned of? Making it back to land, preferably without any bodily harm. Self preservation is a strong drive.
When we hear that someone has a grave illness, like cancer, it is easy to feel there is no hope. It is easy to think their days on earth are now shortened. I have felt that way but I see it differently now. While they may die sooner than later, they may also outlive you or I. See, God promised that He is the one who numbers our days. Not some disease. Whether we like it or not, we are all in the same boat. The future is not ours to know. This means you better have a firm foundation in something. I have chosen my foundation to be God. I will not force that down your throat, but I will highly recommend it to you because I care. I care that as many people as possible get to experience His love. I believe He is the only life preserver that really works in a gale.
While the storm may have weakened or passed for us right now, I know it will come back. Maybe the same storm, maybe something different. I don’t want to fall out of the boat. But when I get too focused on the waves and wind then I do what Peter did and sink like a rock. So, I will go against the flow. I will choose to jump out of the boat and ignore the waves. Jesus’ hand is there. The tough times will obscure it, I know. I have to keep looking for it. But self preservation is a strong drive. The only way to save my life is to give it up to Him. He will take better care of it than I, and He will take better care of the ones that I love than I. Praise God for that.