There is a mental state
I strive to achieve a homeostatic state a humming a lull like those alpha wave tapes they sold in the 60's
I need to hear that in my head all day. Instead of the clanging of my thoughts and the clashing of my
wants versus what I should do need to do and the sad, bright violins from "Sunshine" so melancholy
so consistent that remind me how it is not to have anyone understand
I can't believe I forgot to elaborate / tell the story of God's Goodness. So I'll do it now.
My baby LOVES to lift weights. He fell in love with it shortly after college and he's not stopped loving it since. Growing up, he was a little skinny boy with a big head and a big butt (mmm mmm mmmmm). So the weights put his body in proportion with a nice big broad chest, hulking arms and sturdy legs (bow legged mmmmm) *whew*... I need to focus. OKAY... So he lifts weights all the time and started having these pains in his left arm. He couldn't pinpoint what kind of pains. Not muscular, not skeletal; just an overall pain in his chest plate that shot up to and around his shoulder. Neither of us liked how any of it sounded. So I asked him to go to the dr. Which he did. And the dr. examined him and found a lump under his left arm right in his chest muscle. The Dr. said it was the kind of lump he'd find when examining a woman for breast cancer.
NO.
My baby cried in my arms for 20 minutes when he saw me... and although I played the role of protector, defender, supporter, cheerleader, in my heart I was petrified. Cancer was no stranger to me. I've looked it in the eyes a FEW times. I'm looking at it eat away at my uncle and getting ready to fight it off of my father now. But not my baby. I can't do one more. I can't do it if it's the man I'm trying to marry and spend my life with. Not him... I prayed, right there with him. And I offered up a different prayer than I normally do. "Whatever it is God, it's your plan and we know that we're strong enough to endure. Help us through to the other side. That's all we ask." My baby looked at me and I told him, "Fear and Faith cannot reside in the same body. We have to trust in the Lord and that's it." Trust in Him to do what? Whatever is His will. Dr. said it may be that or it may be a tear in the muscle from all the weight lifting and that lump is the tissue trying to heal. But even that will take surgery upon surgery to repair, the Dr. told us. Which is bad still, because he has the most horrid reaction to anesthesia and things of that nature. Either way, I was getting ready for an uphill battle.
He went for MRIs and xrays and blood tests and whatever. And we waited a week for results. And they are: It's a tear in his muscle tissue. He needs to keep taking the muscle relaxers and pain killers, stay away from the weights for about 6-8 weeks and he'll be fine. AMEN.
AMEN.
I was told today by a dear friend that she read my blog and aside from thinking that I need much counseling... "the only other person whose writings ever affected me so profoundly is Maya Angelou"
WOW! That is a type of heavy I don't know if I can handle. But I'll find a way :)
It was GREAT to hear!!! And on that positive note, I'll close up shop. Hope I make it through this week...
