Nitty-gritty: Pain is about the same, but tolerable (praise God!) with medication around the clock. Attempting to sleep is a daily adventure in patience. This morning's puree: Cinnamon Life and milk - not bad (who am I, Little Mikey all of a sudden?). Next appointment still on Wednesday at 10am with Netterville to examine the open surgical wound. Surgery still scheduled for June 10th at 730am.
Room for laughter, even still ...
As mentioned in an earlier post, I'm writing notes or using the computer to communicate. We've all adjusted to this pretty well, but it wasn't exactly a natural transition. When I wrote my first note to Mom, she had already started to write me back when Doug gently reminded her that she could still talk. I would have laughed at her even more than I did if I'd realized what was going on myself. Poor little Emma and Daniel. Bless our hearts.
Terrah and I stumbled upon the last few minutes of a Smurfs episode yesterday. Look! I have cancer, and I'll watch whatever I feel like! Besides, who could blame me for wanting to escape to a land where everything is Smurfy and fluffy little blue creatures sing with glee as they live in perpetual harmony? I wonder how the Smurfs would handle cancer? Naturally, everyone would smurf a hand. Papa would lead a trek to smurf out the best oncologist around. Baker would smurf up some delicious puree. Vanity would smurf a way to resurface my surgical scars. Poet would smurf up clever blog ideas. Handy would probably try to smurf me a new tongue. Right - this could go on forever, and I have digressed in the saddest of ways. My point in venturing into the mushroom village was to share my sweet sister's latest with you. When she heard that Terrah and I had been watching the Smurfs, she quickly began to reminisce about my love for the Smurfs as a young child - she recalled my stuffed Smurf and my Smurf birthday cake and would have gone on, but Terrah interrupted with the question, "Which Smurf was on the cake?" Becky's response? Wait for it ... take a deep breath ... make sure your footing is sure ... if you're diabetic, grab a Lifesaver. Her response? "Well, I'm not sure what its name was, but this one was blue." There aren't enough "bless her hearts" in all the South to cover that one. If anyone is worried about death by cancer, you can relax. Once Becky finds out this made the blog, cancer won't get a chance to kill me.
Room for joy, even still ...
" ... for the joy of the Lord is your strength." -Nehemiah 8:10
Yesterday, at church, our pastor explained this verse in a fresh way. The joy of the Lord is not something we have to worry about going to find or keeping once we find it. In this verse, joy is possessed by the Lord. Joy belongs to the Lord. So, it is His joy, the joy of the Lord, that gives us strength. And, since He never loses His joy, we never lose our strength. Amen.