It has been a continual thought lately. A thought that strikes the fear of God into me- as if He's going to trip me while walking down the stairs for making such comparisons...but I seriously can't help myself.
Community in camo
I must have seen the video clip of a marine biologist surprising a cyanea octopus from its concealment amongst some seaweed a million times if I had seen it once. It was truly an amazing moment and added a lovely wow factor to my opening 4th grade lessons on camouflage. Out of the blue one day as I was semi zoned out, I heard something the biologist said as if it were the first time he said it. He was discussing the different times he watched and rewatched the frames of his footage. There was no actual match in pattern or color between the octopus and the background. He said we are behind the eight ball if we think the world looks the way we see it. There is much more information out there.
I love Aha! moments. I had one that day at the beginning of a lesson while a group of 4th grade kiddos sat at my feet.
My mind was a rush of fleeting ideas. I couldn't stop the flow and they moved through my brain so quickly I could hardly slow them long enough to entertain them. Ideas of light- the vast spectrum of which we can only see a sliver. The eyes of other animals that see UV. Like bees. Flowers look very different to them- even have little landing strips! Then I thought of the UV light in our aquarium and the coral that glow. Do deep ocean animals see like bees? I don't know but I bet they do. How many other animals see other parts of the spectrum? Who has the widest band of vision, I wonder? Then! We see dimly as through a glass- the Bible tells us we cannot see everything around us. It is filtered through a grossly inadequate eyeball. Wait...how big is creation and how much more is right here with us? The donkey that saw the angel in the pathway. Did he see something literally standing that was present and invisible at the same time? Donkeys may see the bands of light that angels emit. I remembered my Grandma telling me the most preposterous of thoughts in my childhood- she said we wouldn't wear clothes in heaven. We'd be clothed in light. I hated that thought as a kid. Wow. Mountains must look incredible to bees what with all the fluorescent and phosphorescent minerals. Do dogs really have a sense about people, or do they just see your demons? All those yahoos who see the auras. Are those things actually real? Light is energy. The energy of creation. That energy cannot be created or destroyed. It comes down from space, turns into food by the magic of plants, is ingested for us to live and breathe and grow. We are part sunlight! Sunlight is both matter (photons) and energy. Crazy. I don't care if you're spiritual, scientific, or both: there is an invisible world surrounding us. Nature and nature's God both agree.
More thoughts came. I can't list them all because I don't actually remember them all. But somewhere in my mind they are stored up as food for thought on quiet days.
This is why I don't do drugs. No need, people. No need.
And this was my general state of mind while my mouth went on with the lesson and I interacted with my kids, and answered questions and made sure goggles were over eyeballs and not up on foreheads...
All of this brings me to my thoughts of late.
I have spoken so many times to many people about the state of this world. There used to be this thing called community. It appears if not dying, at least very ill these days.
It has cancer.
And I can see its cure, though dimly and through a glass.
Funny thing about cancer cells. They have a little covering that camouflages them against our immune systems. Our fighter cells often pass right by unable to recognize them. There is a compound in cannabis oil that strips away the camo- leaving the bad guys exposed to your immune system. That's what I've been reading at least.
I almost see the opposite happening in our communities. The good guys are hard to see. They have cloaked themselves in camouflage to safely maneuver unnoticed in our sin sick world. And we can't see them. So we move through life in more and more solitary ways. We don't know our neighbors. We don't talk to the people in line with us at the store. Once those things were commonplace. And we knew and shared both each others' joys and burdens.
Tragedy is like a cannabinoid.
It strips away your camouflage. All you good and dear souls begin to shine like so many beacons of light. You come out of the woodwork and offer your help.
Guys. It is obvious to me that Job was loved by his friends. He really was. But bless their hearts in the most Southern sense of that term.
They were not helpful.
You people. You people of action and good deeds.
You people of real thought and real prayer.
You guys are awesome. Like AWE some. I am in complete awe.
This is my community. (and yours, too!)
I love you for sharing both my joy and my burdens.
Thank you.
Dark days.
I actually tried and failed to update the blog a bit earlier. I'm so glad I failed. I was in the middle of a few bad days. And bad days are not the glasses I need to be wearing when updating blogs.
I cried dropping off my taxes. And I think I have messed up most of the paperwork I've put my hands to lately. After crying in front of the tax professionals (who are awesomely great people, by the way) I went to the tag office. I filled out the back of a car title all wrong. Put purchasers where sellers go and sellers where purchasers go. So. I cried again. And then I just went home. With expired tags.
I also had terrible headaches. Really bad. Not like a migraine. I'm familiar with those. This was different. I could feel the lymph all tight and full in my head. I could feel the nodes. I could feel things move. It scared me a little. And then I worried that I might be losing some cognitive function.
I felt the fog. That was a super scary feeling.
But, I felt a little bit better by Monday.
And then my oncologist changed that.
The day began happily enough. My parents came up to drive me and entertain Eli during my appointment. We got the tags straightened out and went to the local ice cream shop. (I didn't eat the ice cream, for those watching my sugars.) The local shops up here in the mountains are the best. All in all, the day was on course for being great.
I was early to my 3 o'clock appointment. Which was totally pointless because I didn't see the doctor until 6.
They close at 5.
I left through a darkened and empty office.
I left tired...thirsty...and needing a snack and a nap.
I was hangry, y'all.
So. When the Dr. spoke to my grumpy ears I did not ask my questions. They were gone.
I didn't update my supplement list. I just sat.
I listened to her review the scans. Nodes in my neck, and along my spine. Nodes in my chest. Nodes in my armpits and groin. All quite large. She read over all the measurements.
Blah. Blah.
Cyst on an ovary. Spot on the liver. Thickened lung scar tissue or something like that.
More blah. And yes...some more blah.
Then she said I needed a bone marrow biopsy and a PET scan.
I realized I had made incorrect assumptions. I assumed we were through with diagnosis after the biopsy. I thought I was going to hear some treatment plan options. I was prepared to take those home to chew and digest and decide what was next.
Nope.
More diagnostics. Seriously?
I decided against the PET (I've had a lot of scans lately and I've been drinking enough radioactive sugar water, thank you) because it would not alter treatment plans one way or another. It would only tell us if my cancer is fast or slow.
At that moment I was thinking 'Lord -cancer just kill me now so I can get out of this place.'
I scheduled the marrow biopsy. It alters the treatment course depending on my genetic response to meds.
It would also stage me 3 or 4.
3 or 4.
I heard that.
With full attention.
Tracing God's hand can be hard to do
Experience tells me that God's hand can best be traced through hindsight.
I pray I'm here to see the hindsight.
If that's not His will, it'll be up to you guys to connect all those dots.
Yet. I have hope.
I never realized I knew people with such connections. You guys are seriously connected.
I get messages from you. When you wake up out of a dead sleep and pray for me. When your prayers are interrupted by God himself and they change from asking God "why?" to praying His will for my life. Prayer that shifts to joy and peace and comfort for me and my family. Prayer that ultimately leaves you in the joy, peace, and comfort of being reminded who God is. You guys that stop in the middle of the day and just pray out of the blue. For me.
Wow.
You are connected.
I already told you I can feel it. And I'm not exaggerating. I feel it.
Physically. Tangibly.
It is power.
So what's next?
I wish I knew. Really. For sure I have not figured out the paperwork of insurance and bills and stuff. That's on my to do list. I'd like to take all my stuff to Emory and maybe one other place to have another set of eyes see what they can see. That's on my to do list. If I disappear for a while, you might look in some mineral springs in Colorado. I might get lost there. Also on my to do list.
As I read and reread my info. As I play and replay the remarks doctors have made. I keep coming back to things that don't make sense in my case. There are still a lot of oddities. Oddities that make me aware that these guys don't know what to do with me any more than I do. So, I'll keep reading.
And each day, through your faithful prayer, I'll set my foot down on the next stepping stone. Even though the path is only dimly lit. Seen through a glass.