Loose Park, Kansas City, March 2012 |
It was an affirmation and a celebration. Thank you all for remembering. Thank you, God Who Is, for the stream of good news that came after the bad. There have been times in my life where I doubted I was loved, doubted I was lovable. If nothing else, the memory of these past few months should serve to erase that doubt forevermore.
I needed help a couple of weeks after the operation. I was still unable to cook, my kids had to go back to their homes, and I was still unable to drive. I sent out an e-mail on a Sunday afternoon asking for meals on wheels for the following week from those who had offered help since learning of my illness, and the schedule was filled within a couple of hours. Whether homemade or carry-out, each evening's meal was chosen, prepared, loaded with with care and love, and delivered to my door in time to feed my hunger and warm my soul.
Cancer, yes. But the highly treatable kind, not requiring me to go through the rigors of chemotherapy and radiation. Operation, yes. But I am healthy and my body shows no signs of rejecting the reconstruction implant as happens to some. My body will recover, the scars will fade, and within a month, maybe two, I'll be able to freely move my arms through their full range of motion once again. I am not out of the woods just yet, but I will make it. I will carry the scars of these months for the rest of my days, but there will be more of those days thanks to early detection and good medical care.
So, yes! Happy Birthday! I am alive, and back on the road to health. On this St. Patrick's Day, that's something worth raising a glass to!
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