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Yes, Yes. Here I am.

I got home Thursday evening feeling physically well, but sleepy. Very tired. I slept through the evening and the next day. I slept through Robbie getting sick. Dan was up with him most of the night Friday. I stayed in the bedroom all day Saturday to stay away from the little boy still throwing up. Sunday morning, he was better. We went to church. Halfway through the service, the Children’s Pastor was tapping me on the shoulder. Great. “One of your Daughters is in the bathroom, sick.” It was Jaymi. We collected her and the rest of them and left for home. Not long after, Brandi was throwing up too. I went back to bed and closed the door. Poor Dan.

It hit me by late afternoon. I threw up for the first time since the first cycle of chemo. I guess I was due. I kept track of my temperature. I never got a fever. Soon it was Dan’s turn. By late evening we were all curled up somewhere nursing our own wounds. It was a very long night.

This morning, I called the school to say the kids wouldn‘t be in. We all need another day to recoup. We are disinfecting the house. All the sheets and pillowcases, the dishes left about and the floors and countertops. And the bathrooms. Everything must be de-bugged

You could say that it was just one of those things. OR You could say that we were attacked by the adversary. But we made it to the other side.

It’s very hard for a mother not to be able to care for and comfort her children when they are sick. It’s very frustrating, but I had to keep my own well being first. The last thing I wanted was to be back in the hospital! And I still need to be careful during the cleanup.

I couldn’t hug them. And that stinks. It reminds me of when the flight attendant tells you to put your own oxygen mask on before helping others. It makes sense but it’s still hard to do.

Life goes on. Everyday things keep happening even though one may think we are dealing with enough. Life continues. As they say, “Cancer is a just word, not a sentence.” My cancer story is changing everyday.

Back in June, the story was different. I was different. I many ways, I want to go back there. I miss the park. I miss the river. I miss my friends. I miss the simply way of life. I didn’t have a clue what was ahead. I was funny. Hah. Imagine a funny person with cancer.

The past four months here in Florida have been . . .weird. Surreal. Every three weeks I spend five days being someone else in a hospital. Then I come home and sleep for a week. Just when I get back to a semblance of myself, it starts over. I am not in charge of anything. It really is Dan’s kitchen. I have never stepped a foot into the children’s school. If I drive myself somewhere, I get a pat on the back for doing something big. It’s not funny. Lol. I don’t feel like an inspiration for anything.

Yet, Sunday, before I knew what the day would bring, I woke up happy. I rolled into my husband’s arms and I felt the laugh lines around his eyes as I told him how much I loved him. I prayed to the Lord a thanksgiving for him in my life. What would I do without Dan? “Every thing would be perfect, Lord, if we just had a little money.” lol Broke and Happy. I have never in my life lived so long so dependant on how the Lord Provides. We don’t need all the things that we thought we did. We do need each other. And the light bill paid.

I am watching my Dan sleep next to me. He is so tired. He spent the weekend taking care of all of us — even when he was not up to the job himself. He did what he had to do when he had to do it. If my flawed human husband would put himself out so to take care of his family, what will the Perfect Lord in Heaven do to care for his own? Who sings for he song bird? I pray now that the Lord reach down and cover my husband in His wings. That He give my Dan comfort and courage to repair his tired and beaten heart. Lord please relieve the stress that he carries. Lord, please provide for us as you know we need.

I feel that there is a gathering of energy around me and my so called story. I imagine living on the edge of a spearhead held in the grips of the Master Archer. The tension is mounting. Soon I will fly. Where to? What is next? No one will tell me. I hope it’s home.

I want to go back to Oregon, believe it or not. I miss the mountains and the coast, the rivers and the trees. I miss my daughter more that I can ever express. I need to be with her. I miss my old life. I miss the book stores and the coffee houses that makes the Pacific Northwest trendy. I miss the rain! Can you believe it?

There is work in the Northwest where there is none here.

I want to go home, but I have no idea how to get there. My prayer is that it is also God’s will. Because He is the provider. I have turned over my life to Him. He is in charge. He will send me where He wants me, where He needs me. He will use my story for the good of his will. Maybe he has other plans than me. . . But Lord, could we first circle back home?

Five treatments down. What to go?

For today, just a bit more sleep.