Can I go with them?

[Photo: My sweet-faced Trenton!]

On Christmas eve we attended the candlelight service at our church. A silent and holy night; all was calm; all was bright. Trenton, my beautiful little grandson, was seated on the pew next to Mommy and Grandma.

Two shepherds were centre stage dramatically sharing in the marvel of that first Christmas night. Then the lights on the balcony shone down on the husband and wife duet as they spoke to the congregation. It was surely a chorus of the heavenly host announcing that the Babe, laid in a manger, was the Prince of Peace. How the two shepherds longed to see the Child.
Trenton, although only three years old, sat rapt. His little mouth, agape, he stared and listened to the shepherds on stage as they shared the story of Christ's birth. Then at one point, they made plans to leave the sheep and go to the stable to gaze upon the little Jesus child.

This might be a bit of a paraphrase, but the lady shepherd said to her beloved, "Let us go see the Child."
Her partner agreed that they should leave and in a moment the two had left the stage and headed down the aisle past where Trenton and the rest of us were seated.

Trenton leaned over to his Mommy and asked, "Where are they going?"

Mommy answered, "To see Baby Jesus."

"Can I go with them?" said Trenton.

That is when I lost it. Tears consumed and my heart fluttered. Oh the innocence of the little children. What a lesson. What a joy to behold. Out of the mouths of babes...

"Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."

Matthew 19:14

I'm Back!

It seems like forever since I have shared some of my heart moments. Time has plodded on and I have had a few issues medically and mentally - an interesting combination. I have to see a doc on January 7th because I had one of my wretched 'spells' as I used to dub them. These spells were supposed to have disappeared after all that surgery chemo nonsense last year. On December 15th, my body told me differently. I collapsed on the bathroom floor in such pain and with such an odd feeling deep in my soul, that my thoughts rested on three numbers - 911. Thank the Lord, my dear hubby was home and he was able to get me to bed and I snapped out of it after a while.

In my conversation with the oncology nurse later, she told me to either make an appointment with them or to see my own doctor. I opted for geographical convenience so I head to the Drayton office in a week. Sigh.

I am trying not to think the worst, for my mind does far too many acrobatics for my liking. I will wait to see what happens. (I may press for that CA125 however!)

I'll wait and see what God has in store for me this year. Meanwhile I will journey on trying not to procrastinate too much with resolutions and changes for 2010. It's getting harder and harder for this old dog to learn new tricks!

Life is too Sweet to be Bitter!

I just love this video. The compassion and caring of this medical family speaks volumes. I love the male janitor the best, I think!

Joy and Peace to all my BC and OC sisters. And thanks to Kim and Anja for showing this one to me and making my day! Life is to sweet to be bitter! (A beautiful quote from a beautiful cancer survivor!)

Frustration!

One of my mother's favourite poets was the famous British versifier - Patience Strong (1907-1990). I love her poetry, too, but more - I love her name. As I think back to my appointment last Thursday at the cancer clinic, I think about the 'patience, strong' that I did not have.

I did not see my own gynecologic-oncologist at the clinic. Sadly he has returned to France to be with his family. I miss him greatly. His professional yet calming presence and gentle French accent was like balm to my soul. He seemed to understand so many of my deep seated emotions and just the way he looked into my eyes, spoke to me of compassion and empathy. I know I was just another patient, but I felt a great bond with him that I am sad to lose.

The team of physicians that are left are good and the one doc who I saw at my appointment was someone who was not a stranger to me. I had seen him on a few other occasions during my chemotherapy. He's very friendly, but somehow I think we have a bit of a personality conflict going on. He's stubborn and so am I. So that doesn't help. Unlike my other sweet doctor, he refuses to do a CA125 blood test at my check ups. He says that if it is elevated, they would not do anything about it until I become symptomatic and it would only cause me stress. Suppressing my urge to reach out and strangle him, I wanted details of his whys and wherefores...and I also wanted him to know how elevated my stress level was because I do not know!

My 'new' doc is very clever, and can talk a blue streak around me with medical jargon, but somehow every time I see him, I leave that place in a state of frustration. Maybe I need to talk to my OC Sisters and find out what kind of follow-up they receive. Maybe I need to reflect and realize that if my CA125 is elevated then that means the chemo did not work. Maybe I need to give this whole frustration thing over to God. Sigh...

The Faith That Moves The Mountains
by Patience Strong

When you know not where to turn, stay still, just where you are.

There is something yet to learn.

Be careful lest you jar the threads that fate is weaving in a pattern you can't see.

Be Passive.

Trust the Hand that works the looms of destiny.

Though it is your wish to set things rightand put things straight,

Choose the wiser way.

Have faith.

With patience watch and wait.

There's a purpose in it all,

as time will surely prove

And when you least expect it,

you will see the mountain move.