Insomnia

I've had a little insomnia since I came home from the hospital. No surprise there. The reasons seem to vary -- at first it was pain, sometimes it's non-stop mental list making, sometimes it's over-attentiveness because I'm the only adult in the house. What's that noise? Is Owen going to wake up? blah, blah, blah.

This morning, a psalm caught my eye and struck me as almost funny in its relevance -

"In peace I will both lie down and sleep;

for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety." (Psalm 4:8)

The point is trusting that I am secure in God's hands, but that the psalmist specifies "lie down AND sleep" is apt. Tonight, I will lie down and sleep in peace. Or I will repeat this verse to myself until I am bored to unconsciousness.

We're Moving!

Ben, Owen and I had a delightful visit at Bethel Lutheran in Gurnee this morning and Ben has accepted the call to be their pastor. We'll be moving during the first week of August and Ben's installation will be August 8.

We'll be living in the parsonage, which is directly across the parking lot from the church. Ben will be able to see our house from his office window. The parsonage is similar to our current home - slightly larger with basically the same layout. I never would have guessed I'd want to live in a parsonage, but at this stage of my life it is very comforting. It vastly simplifies the move and our family's adjustment to the church schedule.

We chose the move date based in part on our preference that I begin chemo after we move. I expect that will start the week following Ben's installation, but need to find an oncologist near Gurnee who agrees with my timeline.

Drop me a note or post a comment if you have a few empty boxes to spare. We're going to need a lot of them!

Oncology Appt.

I had a lovely visit with the oncologist today. He is a very nice man.

Here's what he told me: I did not have appendicitis. The pain I felt was from a small infection that was developing because the tumor was starting to perforate the colon. (ew.) Apparently there are several layers to a colon and the tumor had pushed through all but the last layer. The oncologist said I benefited from the surgeon's keen eye - that not all surgeons would have noticed that things didn't look right.

The oncologist strongly recommends a 6-month course of bi-weekly chemo. Apparently this is the standard treatment for this type of cancer. He says I need to start that by mid-August at the latest. He says that right now the odds of a recurrence are 60/40 in my favor. Chemo will improve those odds to something more like 75/25.

No big surprises. Much to be thankful for. Lots to plan for. Lots of good reasons to take naps.

Oncology

Oncologist visit tomorrow. I am apprehensive. I am much more comfortable with the vague notion of cancer treatment than with the gritty details.

If I just *think* about chemo, will that make the cancer go away?

Many Gifts

Today a friend stopped by and took Owen to the playground for a couple of hours. It was a lovely gift. Owen was ecstatic going and coming. My mother-in-law, Pat, commented that she could not imagine volunteering to take someone else's kids to the playground. The playground is not on her list of fun places to be.

I started thinking about all the different kinds of help I'm getting right now and how what people give me connects with their gifts and abilities. The grandparents are an excellent case in point.

My parents have taken Sam and Jude to their house for two weeks. They are going swimming and watching ball games, eating burgers and ice cream, reading books and playing games. They sound so happy and sometimes very tired. I could not possibly keep up with those guys right now and it is a tremendous gift to me.

Pat is here taking care of Owen and me. Things are much quieter here. She is doing most of the household work, playing with Owen, and being contentedly present even when there is nothing that needs to be done. She is the ideal companion for me right now because a big part of what I need this week is to be quiet and restful but not alone.

(My father-in-law is in a South American jungle building a medical facility this week. He is scheduled to find his way out soon.)

We didn't plan it out in advance, but it turns out that Pat and my parents have, out of love for Ben and me, divvied up the daily responsibilities of my life in a way that suits their personalities. Because I am a Christian, I see this as the body of Christ at work. I appreciate that they are each doing what they see is needed and are able to do with a sense of satisfaction.

Your Hands

A lovely friend sent me a link to this video recently, describing it as her prayer for me. It is a profoundly reassuring song, placing my hope directly in the only place I've found to be sure.

Hospital Time for Me

I came home today after a week in the hospital. I am blessed and overwhelmed by the expressions love, concern, offers of help and prayers from family and friends. Thank you.

Last Tuesday, while Ben was at the seminary in St. Louis, I woke up with some abdominal pain that I interpreted as a pulled muscle. A friend pointed out that the "pulled muscle" was in the same area as my appendix. I spent several hours trying to decide what I should do about this and eventually was in too much pain to think clearly. Thankfully, my friend took charge: made arrangements for the kids and drove me to the emergency room.

I went into surgery Tues. evening -- while Ben was driving home from St. Louis -- expecting an appendectomy, and woke up the next morning to hear that the surgeon had removed my appendix and a tumor from my colon. It seems the tumor was pressing on the appendix. Thank God for pain.

My recovery has gone smoothly so far. I am so relieved to be home. I am sleeping pretty well and eating well in small amounts. I appreciate your notes, phone calls, and short visits. My replies may be slow because I'm tired.

++++++++++++++

I don't know much about the cancer situation yet. An oncologist visited me briefly in the hospital and I will see him again at the end of the week. Apparently 35 is very young to develop colon cancer. I have a family history of this -- including my older sister, who is undergoing chemotherapy right now -- so just cutting out the tumor is not going to be enough. It sounds like I will have a six-month course of chemo, beginning in about a month.

+++++++++++++

Ben is back at the seminary for two more weeks of class. His mom is here with Owen and me, and the big boys are in Kentucky with my parents. The kids are all very happy and this is an excellent arrangement for my recovery time.

Your prayers and compassion are priceless gifts to me. My life feels like a mess but I also feel very loved.

Flying Solo: Lots of Help Edition

We are on day 8 of life with Ben out of state. My brother asked how things were going and I told him we are fine because so far I've paid someone to do my job for a few hours every day.

Today I happen to be exhausted, though I'm not sure how much that has to do with the boys and how much it has to do with the possibility of a move. The boys were at a sitter's house for most of the day and I am profoundly thankful. Even with that long break I've had two episodes of boiling-cauldron frustration.

Over the weekend my lovely sister-in-law came to stay with us. It happens that my brother (her husband) is away for several weeks and she was as glad for our company as I was for her responsible-adult presence. She told me that being with us re-energized her for the last stretch until my brother returns. I guess one woman's insane asylum is another woman's spa.

A Call to Illinois

Bethel Lutheran Church in Gurnee, Illinois has a extended a call to Ben to be their sole pastor. We are so thankful for the opportunity. We are prayerfully considering the call and expect to decide before the end of June. Being in separate cities complicates the process a little.

Sam's last day of school is tomorrow and today was kindergarten graduation. The graduation presentation was great and I am so proud of Sam. It was fun to watch him show what he's learned alongside his classmates.

We're doing pretty well at home, thanks in large part to the delightful and energetic teenager who has watched the kids for a couple of hours every day this week. The call is both exciting and stressful. One day at a time... One hour at a time... God will give what we need.

Flying Solo Day 2

6:15 a.m. I'm first out of bed! Pat myself on the back for instructing Mr. Coffee to brew at 6 because it makes me feel like someone else is home. Comfy in the big armchair reading by...

6:20 a.m. when Sam comes upstairs STARVING!! I remind him that breakfast is at 7.

6:30 a.m. Owen comes up the steps towing Jude and chanting, "I have my brudda Jude! I have my brudda Jude!"

6:35 a.m. All three boys are quickly winding up to full power & full volume. This is too early to lose my patience. Time for forced separation. Sam sits on my lap flipping his head around. I get a little dizzy looking around him to read until...

7:00 a.m. Breakfast! Happy people.

[interlude of predictability... ]

1:30 p.m. Sam at school, Owen sleeping, Jude appears content. I spot a shower opportunity.

1:40 p.m. Now clean, I check on Jude and find him in the living room with clenched fists and a suspicious-looking facial expression. He reveals a battery in each hand. "They were in the train box!" Very unlikely. I investigate. Clues: screwdriver on the staircase. The one train that takes batteries is missing its battery door.

1:43 p.m. Interrogation begins. "Jude, what were you doing with the screwdriver?"

"Um.... [thinking, fabricating, plotting] something in my room was broken and I fixed it."

"Really? I doubt that. It's very important to tell me the truth."

"I fixed something."

"The most important thing to do is tell me the truth."

Head hanging, "I fixed the train engine."

If I smell a little off the next time you see me, it's because showering is dangerous.

Flying Solo: Birthday Edition

Sunday was Jude's 4th birthday and Ben's departure day. It was a very exciting day and thisgirl is glad it's done. There is such a thing as too much happiness.

Here is the birthday boy in awe over the "zookeeper cake" he created for his big day. The animals are on top of frosted brownie and eating sprinkles.

All is going pretty smoothly. One boy had a fit of anger yesterday during which he expressed aloud the urge to "rip your face off." I'd say that was our worst moment. The anger was unsurprising; the specific expression of it was disconcerting. For now, everyone's face is still attached and peace reigns in the home. A lovely teenager is here playing with the boys outside right now. Sweet relief.

Flying Solo: Day -1

Ben leaves tomorrow for several weeks of graduate school at the seminary in St. Louis, which means the male munchkins and I are on our own for a bit. Not "on our own" precisely, since we have lots of people lined up to help us and others in the wings. Close enough.

Today I learned how to use the lawnmower because June grass needs to be cut every week. I've cut the grass before but never with the mower we own now. I did quite a good job. Rubbed a little blister on my palm, too, so it looks like the toughening-up will be good for me.

Kids are crazy. Little boys & anticipation = TNT. Tomorrow is Jude's birthday AND we have friends coming for the day AND Ben is leaving. I'm hoping that Monday will feel calm and relaxing by comparison.