you. So is slurping down some cod liver oil.But, who in their right mind would want to do either on purpose?
THE LULU CHRONICLES
I was up early and on LuLu trying to beat the rain. We did our six-mile route that takes us up three hills, past two Labradors, one weenie dog, a peacock (he screeched at me this morning and made me almost fall off LuLu), a burro (yep, a tiny little donkey) and my favorite yard. This yard is one of those ‘hermit’ yards with discarded farms tools as planters, daffodils blooming out of old coffee cans and car parts made into yard art. Since it’s at the top of one of my hills, I get a good look at it because by then I’m going pretty slow and gasping for air.
Well, today, as I crested my mini-Mt. Everest, I noticed something in the yard I’d not seen before—crutches hanging from a clothesline. A first for me. These crutches hit a nerve and not because they were bungee-corded to a clothesline; but because it was about this time last year that crutches came to live at our house. My husband, Gary, had this huge bump removed from his ankle that stumped all of his doctors. As he was recovering and learning how to hobble on crutches, it was decided we should head off to Mayo to hobnob with doctors who were used to seeing unusual ankle bumps that resembled the chin of Jay Leno. Our eventual diagnosis: an atypical cellular blue nevus that had metastasized into a rare form of stage three melanoma. A mouth full, I know. To make a long story short, it’s been a year of firsts, fear, and faith. But, the good news is that at the moment Gary is cancer free.
However, next Monday, we’re off to Mayo for his every four-month PET scan. His last scan in January was clear. We rejoiced and came home and tried to put this all behind us. But, as Monday draws near, I can’t help but get a little nervous. I’m trying to beat all of the “What if…” thoughts back down into that rabbit hole of worry. Most days, I win. Some days the rabbit hole wins. Seeing the dangling crutches didn’t help. It would have been better if they would of had little bird feeders welded on to them and propped up with hubcaps; then I would have thought them cute and clever. Hey, that gives me an idea. If Gary’s PET scan is clear this time, I just might come home and hot-glue gun some birdhouses on our set of crutches. What better way to celebrate a cancer-free report? We’d appreciate your good thoughts and prayers.
Until next time,
deb
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