And then...

Tears streaming down your face after two hours of conference, and the Lord's Angel knocks at your door with groceries--even the ones you didn't ask for but were going to. And though crying turns to a coughing fit; the genuine tears of gratitude remind you that even if you feel like it may be time to handle your own life, the Lord is very much aware it is not, and one of the big lessons in this is you are not supposed to go through this alone. He has an army of angels he will continue to deploy if you continue to try, so give in!

I surrender, Lord; you know best.

Crazy sauce

They say when it rains it pours, and I normally subscribe to the notion that people get an equal share of good and bad luck; but this past month has led me to believe I may be wrong.

Thyroid cancer
Surgery
A pinched nerve that left my left foot paralyzed for a few days
Vertigo
Ten year anniversaries
Sinus, ear, and kidney infections
Acid reflux and weird gas bubbles
Bronchitis - possibly shared by both Rus now
Laryngitis
Fever
A debilitating cough that sounds like a lung is coming up in the process
A car-totaling, life flashes before your eyes wreck

I think that we may need to stay in all of April or we'll be the April fools.

Thank goodness for good friends and blessings that don't just laugh with you when yet another thing happens, but roll up their sleeves and ask how to help. We are incredibly blessed--though possibly also cursed.

Don't get me wrong--I know with the Lord I can handle all the things he thinks I can, but I believe it--we don't have to measure how much that is right now.

Mortality

And just when you think you can handle it all, the Lord decides to remind you that you need others.  It has been humbling and demoralizing but good for me to learn that I have thyroid cancer.  They took out my thyroid on March 13, and in a few weeks, I'll have radiation.  They keep reminding me that it is really cancer, and your brain gets it when they give you a printed off sheet of "your cancer." "If you have to get cancer, it is a really good one to get," is a familiar tune, and I am starting to get used to it.

I haven't had any of the odder side effects they have told me I would get--my voice has been fine (knock on wood), but I lost feeling in my left foot (and couldn't walk on it for a few days), had severe vertigo (nowhere near as funny as Lucille Two), and felt like I personally was making honey for the homeless due to the calcium storms. . .

It is funny how you need to be reminded of your own mortality every so often.  It is also funny that he chose now, when I would be awfully aware of it.

Two down, one to go.

Ten Years

I don't hurt as much, but I still hurt.
I don't cry as much, but I still cry.
It doesn't ache as much, but it still aches..
I don't want things for you as much, but I still dream about what your life could have been.
I wish I could see you laugh or grin or snark..
I could use a hug, B could use a kiss (you know the kind), and S could use a wrestling match.
I don't miss you as much. . . . Liar! I miss you tons.

The C word

Cancer is a reality. It is terrifying to most people. Though I know people who have suffered and died from it, it doesn't completely seem real when they say it in relation to you personally. My endocrinologist, who will be replaced with someone else after all of this, played it down so much that yesterday when I heard, "You have a 50-75% probability of cancer," I felt gobsmacked. "Taken aback" doesn't seem to cover it enough. the fear associated with cancer is terrifying and yet surreal. One minute you are talking about silly things, and the next you are talking about radiation and survival rates. It takes a day to sink in, and 24 hours later you are still stunned.

Survival rate of someone diagnosed with thyroid cancer before they are 40 is 100%, so thank you, Heavenly Father. At the same time, the next couple of weeks, possibly stretching into months isn't going to be fun. If you have an extra little corner to your prayers, tuck me in--I think I could use a little love. I'm going to be fine (I cannot begin to tell you how many people want to tell you that--over and over--and you get a little tired of your experience drowning in a sea of "fine"). Wish me peace and calm and the ability to actually experience the emotions I am going through rather than painting them over with fine--and maybe a hug.

ETA: Thanks for all the well-wishes. I'm going to need them!  It is also funny to find out who actually reads my blog.  Love you!