Comfort and Corn Flakes...

Anyone ever see a human soup can?  Well, come on down to Los Robles Hospital and I’ll lift up my hospital gown so you can say, “Now I’ve seen a human soup can!”

Ed brought me into the ER late Friday night because my abdomen was so distended I could hardly breathe.  Literally.  If a Q-Tip fell on my stomach, I would have screamed.  If memory serves, I look pretty much like I did the day I was diagnosed.   Bloating from side to side, and top to bottom.  All the way around to my back.  Waist?  What waist?  It looks like someone unzipped my torso, shoved a huge tortoise shell in there and zipped it back up.  So sexy.

Found out last night that the chemo needs to be changed again as the lesions continue to grow and are obstructing my intestines.   My first thought was, “Good - now maybe I’ll be put on a treatment that will let my eyelashes grow back.”  (I really miss those things!) My second thought was, “How long until I can eat cheese ravioli with marina sauce?”  (I’m on a liquid diet and hopefully graduating soon to a soft foods diet).  Funny the things that pop into one's mind at a time like this.

It takes a while for my head to get around each new change in treatment.  This is my sixth regimen in three and a half years.  I should be used to it.  Cat scan results take a while to digest, especially when they’re not the ones you had hoped for.  But after some time, I will recall all of the promises God has showered me with.  My soul is again filled with comfort.  And with peace.  And if I didn’t have these trials, I wouldn’t know the amazing beauty of His comfort and His peace.  And I'm telling you, it's amazing.  Utterly amazing.

I woke up this morning at 4 a.m.   I had one of my favorite songs playing in my head.  So I grabbed my iphone in search of it.  To my delight, I found it on video.  Lots of them.  My room was dark as I put my headphones in.  I laid in bed and just wept listening to the lyrics.  If my nurse had walked in, she would have walked right back out.

“With all creation I sing, praise to the King of kings.  You are my everything, and I will adore you.”

If you have a second, pull up The Revelation Song and watch Kari Jobe sing it live.  She is unbelievable.  What talent God put into that girl.  And she gives it all back.  To Him.

(Had to stop writing and talk to the surgeon who just walked in.)  Good news!   I can begin eating soft foods!  If I don’t throw them up, I can go home.  I immediately called Ed and said, “Bring me Corn Flakes!”  (I don't even like Corn Flakes!  Hey, are we sure there's not a baby in there?)  And whoever calls me at lunch and says, “I’m on my way, do you need anything?”  My answer will be, “Heck yeah -- some cheese ravioli with marinara sauce!”   That qualifies as a soft food, right?  Maybe I’ll go a little easy on the sauce.

When I received the news last night from the oncologist, Donna was with me.  She was going to go home and email our friends to pray for me.  She asked me what I would like them to pray for.  I told her for the next treatment to do its job and shrink those lesions near my intestines so I can have a waist line again.  And so I can breathe again without discomfort.  Within minutes of her sending out that email, I could hear all the “dings” of my inbox being flooded with emails.  All friends lifting me and my family up in prayer.   Thank you to each and every one of you.  And to all of you who continue to walk this journey with me, I thank you too.

I want to share one more thing.  I grabbed my Bible before I went to bed last night and my eyes rested on these words:

"He is the faithful God who keeps his covenant for a thousand generations and lavishes His unfailing love on those who love Him and obey Him."

Deuteronomy 7:9

Aren't we lucky? 

Well, I must clean up my tray table.  I believe my cornflakes are on their way!
(P.S.  I wrote this in the hospital.  Happy to report, I am now home and feeling better.  And I've probably eaten five bowls of Corn Flakes.)