PHOTO: Gary and I have been in the ring working out. We're ready for the next fight.
THE LULU CHRONICLES
So, the day didn’t turn out like we’d planned. We were just running to Mayo for a 24-hour period to get Gary’s three-month PET scan and hear that all is well and then back home to get ready for a Memorial Day celebration with our kids and grandkids. However, how does that line in the old John Lennon song go: “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.” Or something like that.
I could tell by the way Dr. Quevado was squinting at the PET scan on his computer that things weren’t right. He’s a nice guy, an excellent doctor and has treated us extremely well. “It could be nothing,” he said.
I hate those words. I’ve heard them too many times in the last year and a half, and the IT has always turned out to be something. The first time I heard those words, IT turned out to be a rare form of melanoma. The next time, the IT was cancer in the lymph nodes. The next time, IT was a raging infection where the cancerous lymph nodes had been. And, now? The IT is a small black dot on a PET scan on the back of Gary’s leg. So, forgive me if those words give me no comfort.
I’ll tell you what does give me comfort though… the twenty or so emails and Facebook messages we’ve received in the last four or five hours that are filled with encouraging words, prayers, and promise of prayers; the squadron of folks back home who are standing at the ready with anything we need, whether it be a casserole, a hug or just a hand clasped in mine.
You know what else gives me comfort? I’m writing this in our little room at the House of Compassion only a few blocks from Mayo. Gary and I are lying on our bed. Every once in a while, we’ll take the other’s hand for a moment or two. He’s got his earphones on and listening to a TED Talk on his ipad. It’s a nice distraction for him. I’m writing to you, it’s a nice distraction for me. But that isn’t the what else I mean The what else is that in this little room amidst our individual distraction ploys sits our Father, God. He’s at the foot of our bed. His presence is as real as to me as Gary’s. I’m pretty sure the angel, Gabrielle, is over in the chair on my left. And, the mighty warrior angel, Michael, is across the room guarding the door. Dear ones, that gives me peace that passes understanding. I don’t know what the biopsy will show in a couple of days, but it doesn’t matter, not really. Because whatever that “it could be nothing” turns out to be, a whole crowd will walk with us down the path. Some will be just ordinary, but precious humans, and some will be the Holy of Holies. We’re in good hands anyway you look at it.