The Power of Prayer

Yesterday we got the best news that we could have from the hematologist-oncologist. "Your bone marrow is absolutely normal. No sign of lymphoma." We heaved a huge sigh of relief and I teetered on the edge of my chair.

It's been nearly three months of tests. Results. Tests. More results. And yet more tests. And feeling pretty darned good all the while. I was a puzzle, a dog (!), a zebra. And yesterday, I was a trail----the doc said, "We've looked under every rock. Nothing's there." I couldn't help but think of the Gorham Trail which Al and I hiked Sunday after church. It is a rocky but lovely path with fantastic views all the way.


I'll vote for that metaphor. I'm a trail, a beautiful trail in Acadia National Park. Along the trails there are cairns, rock formations that direct you along the way. The cairns during this 'wild hike' in the medical world were the prayers of many. They were always there, and sometimes there were many, many prayers coming quickly. Those prayers continue to be reliable and sustain us through even the rockiest path.

On the trail, there is also an occasional 'turn-off' that ends up being nothing but a dead end. This brief interruption can even appear to be a lightly-worn footpath. It can fool you for a minute until you spy the next bright blue blaze straight ahead. The 'turn-offs' and 'dead ends' for me were when I let doubts enter my thinking. The occasional "Oh, I know someone who had lymphoma...and he died," would stun me in my tracks but only momentarily. I'd take in a huge cleansing breath and forge ahead, always following those bright blue blazes.



As you hike, it's a requirement that you stop and take in the majestic views --- the blue ocean peeking through the tall pines. And after you climb a bit farther, maybe even with the help of iron rungs drilled into the rock slabs, the whole sky opens up and you can see oceans, islands, and white triangles gliding effortlessly through the water. Those views, the positive results of my medical tests, are always breath-taking and beautiful.



So, now we continue to monitor. The sarcoidosis seems so easy after all of this scary stuff. When we hike, we always carry a trail map, no matter how many times we've done the same hike. Monitoring my health is kind of like that --- the pulmonologist and our GP will continue to hike with us. We'll be sure to look for those cairns, to avoid those 'dead-ends', and always, always, stop to breathe in the glorious views along the way.

Balance and Trust

We are thoroughly enjoying our visit with Mike, Laurelyn, Graham, and Dean! They arrived late last evening. Overnight we had the most powerful thunderstorm ever --- the thunder rumbled for at least a solid hour and the lightning was pretty much non-stop. A few loud cracks hit nearby the house and I was quite sure we'd have a tree down come morning, but we lucked out.


After sleeping in quite late (such a luxury!), we had breakfast and then Graham and I took a jaunt into SW Harbor to do some errands. We stopped at the farmers' market and picked out some dee-licious strawberries and two small wooden lobster boats, one for G and one for Dean. We also strolled to the SWH Library (a real treasure) and G checked out about 10 books, many about dinosaurs.


We had a light lunch when we returned home (must leave room for lobster dinner...must leave room for lobster dinner) and after a bit, Al, Mike and G headed to the lighthouse for some photos and rock-climbing.

While they were gone, Dean and I had fun playing the piano and playing with Al's giant yellow exercise ball. Dean invented a new game where he took my hands and pulled himself up onto the ball. I'd help him move into a seated position where he'd balance himself while I'd bounce him on the ball. Then, with an amazing sense of trust, he'd throw himself back against the ball, knowing that I'd hang onto his feet. With a little coaching from Grandma, "Put your hands down, Dean! Hands down!" he'd reach over his head until all ten fingertips touched the carpet. Then I'd gently ease him down to the floor. He couldn't scramble back onto the top of the ball quickly enough for another go-round.

Toddlers can have an amazing sense of trust. And this toddler also seems to know something about balance. Trust and balance. Balance and trust. A winning combination. We can probably all learn something from the little prince.

Sunshine on my Shoulders Makes Me Happy

Yeah, it's still cloudy and raining outside. But there is SUNSHINE on my shoulders!

The hematologist-oncologist called yesterday and said, "Preliminarily, your blood is TOTALLY NORMAL!"

I've NEVER been 'accused' of being totally normal before! We'll get the final results of the bloodwork in the next week or two. I am realizing that I'm basically a pretty patient person. And it's a good thing, too.

The prayers, concern, and love sent to us in so many, many ways have been simply overwhelming. It's a very humbling experience to be the recipient of so much love and the beneficiary or so many prayers. God is good! It leaves me speechless. . .

So, in the coming two weeks, I've got lots of wonderful things planned! I'm visiting with two of my sisters in CT and with my in-laws, too. I'm so excited to see them all. Then a visit from our dear son, Mike, his darling wife, Laurelyn, and our two adorable grandsons--Graham and Dean! We'll be gorging on lobster (and picture books!) for sure.

And lots and lots of work for the coming months -- and I'm delighted. I have such fun working, it sometimes feels strange to get paid for it.




Now if we could just see some real sunshine...we've got sandcastles to build and seaglass to find. Come on, sun!

Apparently, I'm making them think

We are counting down the hours (quite literally) until we see the hematologist/oncologist tomorrow morning. We are hopeful that we'll have more answers and more direction after tomorrow's appointments--yup, we have three separate appointments tomorrow at Eastern Maine Medical Center, but the H/O is the one we're really pinning our hopes on.

In a phone call with the pulmonologist last week, I thanked him for all of the ways he's trying to solve my medical mystery. He replied, "Oh, no! Your case is fascinating! It's REALLY making us think! Thank YOU!"

Wow. I'm a one-woman science-field day. I'm desperately hoping for a BLUE RIBBON!

Last Night I Forgot How to . . .

say the Lord's Prayer. No--I don't mean I forgot TO pray; I remembered that. I FORGOT SOME OF THE WORDS. It took my breath away.

Granted--it was nearly 2 AM after a full day of bus and plane rides to get to Corning. As I tried to fall asleep, I began to pray the Lord's Prayer very slowly and thoughtfully. The weird thing was that the farther along I got, I couldn't for the life of my remember the last part. And it wasn't even like I was drifting off to sleep---I lay there for nearly 45 minutes trying to fall asleep. That's unheard of for me.

It's sure a very good thing that so many family members and dear friends are praying for us during this wait-and-see time. But I know God is a forgiving God, and certainly doesn't keep score of whether or not I'm being forgetful.

The Big C -- The Journey Ahead of Us

Ever had a long trip to go on, but find yourself without a map?

We used to use the trusty old AAA Triptik -- and boy, I loved flipping those pages as we made progress and followed the route highlighted for us in AAA pink.

Then, a few years ago, we got our first GPS. It looks rather archaic now -- I mean it doesn't talk to us (like our newer one does). It basically just showed us where we were. Just like a GPS is supposed to do.

When we got our "super-duper" GPS (it has 10 foreign accents), we learned that we could type in an address and it would direct us there, sometimes chirping at us annoyingly. We can even tell it that we want to make NO left turns (guess that's for Jersey!), that we prefer toll roads, and it will remember the last ten places we've been so that we can click on "Recent Destinations."

Most recently, we got a hand-held GPS for geocaching. It doesn't talk to us aloud but it certainly tells us how close we're getting to a pre-set destination. It's kinda like that old childhood game, "Hot/Cold" when we'd chant to each other, "You're getting warmer! You're getting warmer! You're on FIRE!" as we approached the target.

So, we now have a destination: my good health. That's our destination. So far, no Triptik or GPS - of any kind. But we have lots of travel agents (the doctors), and more importantly, many, many sherpas (you!) who are spiritual guides helping us to carry this heavy load. The road is certain to be a bit rocky at times, and smoother at others. There will be long, grueling uphill climbs, and the refreshing flat sections. And all the way, God will be with us and you'll be there with us, too. Thank you so much for accompanying us on the difficult journey. I know we can do it with your support!

Let's go!

Afraid of Home?

It's been way too long since I've posted here in my blog, but so much has happened in the last few weeks.

Medically, we're still waiting on the results of my blood work. The waiting is not fun. But if I'm busy, I don't think about it. Can't perseverate on your health if you're looking into the faces of 18 fifth-graders or nine adorable kindergartners, and running from one classroom to the next for the whole day x 6!

So, the drive home from New Hampshire to Maine was excruciating. As I got closer to home, I could feel my anxiety level rising. I felt like I was driving slower and slower as I progressed. And I had several errands to do. It was tempting to just keep on driving. Nova Scotia, anyone?

Coming home means that I can't hide in/at work like I've been able to do in the last couple of weeks. Granted, I do have lots of work to do over the next couple of days, but there's just something about not being able to hide in your own home. And, of course, every time the phone rings, I wonder if it's the call with my results.

Can you be afraid of your own house?