Answers...
I'm going to go through our day a bit backwards, so bear with me. I figure you want to hear the test results first before hearing all the other stuff that went on.
Well, yesterday (Friday) at 2:45 in the afternoon we heard the test results from Wes' MRI and they are very very good. The doctors, which includes Dr. Michael West (head of neurology), Dr. Derek Fewer (our brain surgeon), Dr. Schroeder (our specialist) and a host of other doctors & radiologists looked at the MRI and they were all very impressed with it. There has been absolutely no change and this is one time in your life, except for midlife, where no change is a huge positive. Does this mean that the tumor is in remission? No one can tell that yet, but to hear them say that everything is exactly the same as it was nearly a year ago after the surgery is rare and amazing! Even his blood work has not changed, except within a small degree, of where Wes was prior to his diagnosis. His platelet count is excellent which was another pleasant surprise for them, all his other blood counts were well within the normal range. As the results are given there is just a lot of smiles and head shaking. How is this possible? You can see the question in each one's eyes and even though we know the answer to their questions, even for us it is hard to fathom how God is working as clearly as He is.
I think that hearing these results have given Wes another boast to keep on with the chemo. He has been getting tired of it, but never complains. He just mentioned in passing that he was going to be glad when it was done. I can't say that I blame him.
So let's back up a bit. We arrived, had Wes' blood work done and barely had our wellness form filled out when we were called in. Actually the nurse was almost standing over us waiting for us to quickly fill out the paperwork. She brought us into room 16, which is now my favorite room (if you don't know why then go back and read the first part of this entry!) and closed the door. We sat in silence for a moment and then quietly began talking. Not about anything deep or spiritual, just stuff that needed to get done at home, that kind of thing. Then our first nurse walked in giggling. She was carrying our paper that we had just filled out in the waiting room.
She waved it around like a little flag and laughed, "I don't know what to do with you! There's nothing on here that we need to talk about" She never sat down or even left the doorway she just stood and smiled at us her eyes shining. "We've really got nothing to say to each other do we? It's going well and that's great! Well, Pam is coming in to see you as well, so..." She shuffled from one foot to the other and shrugged her shoulders "OK, so then I guess I've just come in to say 'hi'" and with another giggle and a huge grin she disappeared through the door.
We looked at each other and laughed. We had not realized that Wes' doing so well could effect them so much. I thought about that for a moment. Is that how God does it? Is that how He lets others know Him? Is that how others are blessed by Him even though they don't know Him? We didn't have to say a word, she chattered on like a happy little sparrow completely content. I think that's how He does it. You know, they don't even realize that they have become a part of God's plan. There is joy, but they can't really explain why, they feel good about what they do and they think it's only because of the human gifts they have. God must sit back and smile when He watches how we react knowingly or unknowingly to His power.
With the door closed once again and the clock slowly ticking away we began our wait for Pam. I was trying to picture her, couldn't quite remember what she looked like because we had only met her one other time. And then it hit me! Oh boy! I elbowed Wes and said, "I remember Pam now! She was the one with the very strong perfume!" I saw the light bulb go off for him, oh no. The last time we met with her I walked out with a bad migraine.
It's funny, all these years that Wes has been super sensitive to smells has now made me super sensitive. But, after his surgery his sensitivity has become so much less...mine on the other hand has gotten worse. I can handle very little before I have a severe headache. What now? We both sat back in silence thinking.
After a while I turned to Wes and pointed at the boxes of latex gloves that are always lying on the doctor's desk.
"Maybe I'll just use one of those!"
Wes looked at me and laughed quietly, "Yeah, pull it down over your head and wear it like an oxygen mask!"
The laughing became louder and more uncontrolled as we built the picture bigger and bigger.
"Yeah," I said through tears of laughter "she'll walk in here and I'll be sitting with this glove on my face breathing in and out, the glove bubbling out of proportion." and I proceeded to make stupid Darth Vader sounds with my cheeks blown up full of air. "And the fingers will all inflate and deflate with every breath and they'll look like a rooster tail on my head!" The tears were rolling as we laughed, hoping that she wouldn't pick that moment to walk in. How would we ever explain what we were laughing about? Fortunately we had our composure together by the time she walked in.
Well, our visit with Pam was nearly as giddy as it was with the first nurse, plus an added bonus was that she was not wearing perfume.
Her smiles would not be contained as she rolled her chair in front of Wes for the various tests and then she rolled back to the desk to make notes. Every once in a while throwing another wide smile our direction as she rolled back to check his eyes with her little pen light.
Another round of giggles followed as she made fun of how quickly he was following her fingers and she threw her little flashlight into her pocket still lit and rolled back to write down more results. I became fascinated with that little blue spot of light in her pocket. It was small, but distinct. It was determined to shine through her coat and make itself known, but she didn't even realize it was on.
How often do we do that? We have the spirit of God shining in us, but we keep Him in our pocket, hidden away. He's desperate to shine through, but we are so busy with living life or complaining about it, that we forget He's even there. I watched her coat swing back and forth over her hips as she slid along in her little roller chair, the light bouncing along right with her. Every time she tugged at her jacket the light moved a little, but never lost it's ability to shine.
I don't want my life to stay that way, having God desperate to shine through, but not caring that I'm only allowing half His light to shine. There's got to be more that I, that we all , can do to shine deeper, clearer & brighter. The light loses it's shine in the pettiness of arguments & hurts, things that won't matter by next week or next year. Our focus is so inward, but not with any depth of purpose. So, I don't know about you, but just because life doesn't go my way doesn't mean that we stop remembering how close God is. Not just in the tough stuff, but in the everyday stuff. He wants to be a part of every aspect of our lives.
I read a neat little illustration this past week that I would like to share with you, I will paraphrase since I don't feel like running to the vehicle to get the book!
Not worshipping God is like being invited to His house and standing on the porch doing nothing to enter the house. You know God is inside waiting, but you just stand on the stoop with your hands in your pockets. How wrong is that? Our worship in voice, in words and in our actions is like ringing the doorbell. It lets God know that you want to be in on the party, it yells out to Him, "Hey, I'm here! Let's celebrate!" And really, isn't that what this whole life is about? Why in the world do we want to do this life without Him?
"Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house." Matthew 5:15
Well, yesterday (Friday) at 2:45 in the afternoon we heard the test results from Wes' MRI and they are very very good. The doctors, which includes Dr. Michael West (head of neurology), Dr. Derek Fewer (our brain surgeon), Dr. Schroeder (our specialist) and a host of other doctors & radiologists looked at the MRI and they were all very impressed with it. There has been absolutely no change and this is one time in your life, except for midlife, where no change is a huge positive. Does this mean that the tumor is in remission? No one can tell that yet, but to hear them say that everything is exactly the same as it was nearly a year ago after the surgery is rare and amazing! Even his blood work has not changed, except within a small degree, of where Wes was prior to his diagnosis. His platelet count is excellent which was another pleasant surprise for them, all his other blood counts were well within the normal range. As the results are given there is just a lot of smiles and head shaking. How is this possible? You can see the question in each one's eyes and even though we know the answer to their questions, even for us it is hard to fathom how God is working as clearly as He is.
I think that hearing these results have given Wes another boast to keep on with the chemo. He has been getting tired of it, but never complains. He just mentioned in passing that he was going to be glad when it was done. I can't say that I blame him.
So let's back up a bit. We arrived, had Wes' blood work done and barely had our wellness form filled out when we were called in. Actually the nurse was almost standing over us waiting for us to quickly fill out the paperwork. She brought us into room 16, which is now my favorite room (if you don't know why then go back and read the first part of this entry!) and closed the door. We sat in silence for a moment and then quietly began talking. Not about anything deep or spiritual, just stuff that needed to get done at home, that kind of thing. Then our first nurse walked in giggling. She was carrying our paper that we had just filled out in the waiting room.
She waved it around like a little flag and laughed, "I don't know what to do with you! There's nothing on here that we need to talk about" She never sat down or even left the doorway she just stood and smiled at us her eyes shining. "We've really got nothing to say to each other do we? It's going well and that's great! Well, Pam is coming in to see you as well, so..." She shuffled from one foot to the other and shrugged her shoulders "OK, so then I guess I've just come in to say 'hi'" and with another giggle and a huge grin she disappeared through the door.
We looked at each other and laughed. We had not realized that Wes' doing so well could effect them so much. I thought about that for a moment. Is that how God does it? Is that how He lets others know Him? Is that how others are blessed by Him even though they don't know Him? We didn't have to say a word, she chattered on like a happy little sparrow completely content. I think that's how He does it. You know, they don't even realize that they have become a part of God's plan. There is joy, but they can't really explain why, they feel good about what they do and they think it's only because of the human gifts they have. God must sit back and smile when He watches how we react knowingly or unknowingly to His power.
With the door closed once again and the clock slowly ticking away we began our wait for Pam. I was trying to picture her, couldn't quite remember what she looked like because we had only met her one other time. And then it hit me! Oh boy! I elbowed Wes and said, "I remember Pam now! She was the one with the very strong perfume!" I saw the light bulb go off for him, oh no. The last time we met with her I walked out with a bad migraine.
It's funny, all these years that Wes has been super sensitive to smells has now made me super sensitive. But, after his surgery his sensitivity has become so much less...mine on the other hand has gotten worse. I can handle very little before I have a severe headache. What now? We both sat back in silence thinking.
After a while I turned to Wes and pointed at the boxes of latex gloves that are always lying on the doctor's desk.
"Maybe I'll just use one of those!"
Wes looked at me and laughed quietly, "Yeah, pull it down over your head and wear it like an oxygen mask!"
The laughing became louder and more uncontrolled as we built the picture bigger and bigger.
"Yeah," I said through tears of laughter "she'll walk in here and I'll be sitting with this glove on my face breathing in and out, the glove bubbling out of proportion." and I proceeded to make stupid Darth Vader sounds with my cheeks blown up full of air. "And the fingers will all inflate and deflate with every breath and they'll look like a rooster tail on my head!" The tears were rolling as we laughed, hoping that she wouldn't pick that moment to walk in. How would we ever explain what we were laughing about? Fortunately we had our composure together by the time she walked in.
Well, our visit with Pam was nearly as giddy as it was with the first nurse, plus an added bonus was that she was not wearing perfume.
Her smiles would not be contained as she rolled her chair in front of Wes for the various tests and then she rolled back to the desk to make notes. Every once in a while throwing another wide smile our direction as she rolled back to check his eyes with her little pen light.
Another round of giggles followed as she made fun of how quickly he was following her fingers and she threw her little flashlight into her pocket still lit and rolled back to write down more results. I became fascinated with that little blue spot of light in her pocket. It was small, but distinct. It was determined to shine through her coat and make itself known, but she didn't even realize it was on.
How often do we do that? We have the spirit of God shining in us, but we keep Him in our pocket, hidden away. He's desperate to shine through, but we are so busy with living life or complaining about it, that we forget He's even there. I watched her coat swing back and forth over her hips as she slid along in her little roller chair, the light bouncing along right with her. Every time she tugged at her jacket the light moved a little, but never lost it's ability to shine.
I don't want my life to stay that way, having God desperate to shine through, but not caring that I'm only allowing half His light to shine. There's got to be more that I, that we all , can do to shine deeper, clearer & brighter. The light loses it's shine in the pettiness of arguments & hurts, things that won't matter by next week or next year. Our focus is so inward, but not with any depth of purpose. So, I don't know about you, but just because life doesn't go my way doesn't mean that we stop remembering how close God is. Not just in the tough stuff, but in the everyday stuff. He wants to be a part of every aspect of our lives.
I read a neat little illustration this past week that I would like to share with you, I will paraphrase since I don't feel like running to the vehicle to get the book!
Not worshipping God is like being invited to His house and standing on the porch doing nothing to enter the house. You know God is inside waiting, but you just stand on the stoop with your hands in your pockets. How wrong is that? Our worship in voice, in words and in our actions is like ringing the doorbell. It lets God know that you want to be in on the party, it yells out to Him, "Hey, I'm here! Let's celebrate!" And really, isn't that what this whole life is about? Why in the world do we want to do this life without Him?
"Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house." Matthew 5:15
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