So my stalking of my doctor’s office has paid off, and I got the news this morning that the CT scan of mi lumpito came back as “normal”. I was then told that, if I would like, I could see a “general surgeon” to talk about whether we should consider having it biopsied.
I should be jumping up and down, right? “Normal” is good, right? And yet, I just have this sense that things are somehow not quite right in Mudville, and as a result, I told my doctor’s office that yes, I DO want to talk to the surgeon. El Lumpito is not very large, but neither has it gotten any smaller, and although I am struggling to discern whether this is my hypochondriasis kicking in or if it’s an intuition that I should pay attention to . . .
Reading stuff like this makes me hopeful that I’ve made the right choice. But for those of you who are Jesus followers, I would greatly appreciate your prayers for discernment on my part, and the ability to separate out what is an actual risk from what is just my neurosis, or even better, something big and lovely trying to get itself born . . .
So it wasn’t bad enough that my car broke down on Sunday, or that I found out on Monday that the repairs will cost something like $1500 (which I don’t have now, and am not likely to have anytime soon . . . or perhaps EVER.)
And it’s not enough that my call to my doctor’s office this afternoon to see if they’d received my CT scan results yet yielded a “no, we don’t have them yet”, despite the fact that the brand spankin’ new hospital where it was done claims on its website that its “new, state-of-the-art technology” enables them to share test results with lightning speed.
(or that I threw up from the contrast dye they had to inject–yes, that was ALSO on Sunday.)
But today, on top of all of this, THEY REPO’D MY TRASH CAN!
I’m out of checks (I stopped tithing in June, the first time my car broke down, and I hardly use checks otherwise) and this is one of those bills that just seems to fall by the wayside–it’s not easy to pay it online–so I just never got around to it. Not that I have the money at this point, anyway . . .
In her book Traveling Mercies, Anne Lamott talks about how a lot of things going wrong at once is viewed by some as evidence that “something big and lovely is trying to get itself born“. But she doesn’t totally buy that, and neither do I. I think that part of the problem, though, is that I do foolish things like titling my blog, “I wanna love You better whatever it takes“, not realizing that God might take me up on my offer.
Right now I just need to crawl into bed and spend some time feeling sorry for myself.
Actually, I hope that he ends up being just a particularly annoying person at a party where I’m not going to stay long, but right now, he is REALLY not my friend.
I am a child of the eighties, and as such, was exposed to a fair amount of Depeche Mode. This song had particular significance to me (or at any rate, my friends enjoyed pointing out the parallels between the song and my own life), and to be honest, there have been more than a few times in my life where I have wondered if God really didn’t have “a sick sense of humor” after all . . .
But today, I know the truth. I know that the God I serve is sovereign, loving, and good, and that no matter what happens, I am going to stand until the end of my days with Job and others like him who have chosen to call His name blessed when He gives AND when He takes away.
I was lucky, as well, in that the number of people I knew personally who lost their lives on this day in 2001 was relatively small. Of the three listed here, Jonathan Hohmann is probably the one I knew best, as I went to church with him for several years and taught Sunday School alongside of his wife Rose. I also had his son Matthew in my Sunday School class (and have the cute pictures to prove it!)
The next is a guy I went to school with . . . he was in my class through fifth grade, and I have a class picture somewhere. (which I will not be sharing here, to protect the guilty–myself in particular–from the fashion police!)
And finally, someone from my graduating class at Tottenville High School who I barely knew, except perhaps by name/face.
yes, I am one of the lucky ones.