Test… Wait… Repeat… 

That’s been my life for the past couple of months…  waiting for appointments, tests,  phone calls,  test results, and finding out what comes next.

Since my fall on May 23rd, my life has been a blur of hospitals, clinics, and waiting rooms.

When I finally stopped to count everything, even I was surprised.

In less than two months I’ve had:

• 5 CT Scans
• 13 X-Rays
• 3 MRI Scans
• 1 PET Scan
• 3 Biopsies
• 1 EKG
• 5 Consultations
• 7 Different Doctors

Every test follows the same pattern…  

You check in,  answer the same questions,  get scanned,  poked, or prodded.  A few times,  you switch your clothes for one of those fashionable little hospital gowns.  There are  machines that tell you to hold your breath and lie perfectly still.  And more often than not, someone wants a few more vials of blood.

Then you get to go home…

And wait!

That’s the hard part.

Not the tests themselves.

Your mind starts asking questions that no one can answer yet…

What did they find?

When will they call?

What happens next?

It’s a different kind of exhaustion—not physical, but emotional.  Living from one phone call to the next can wear you out in ways you never expected.

The good news is that every  scan, every biopsy, every consultation has helped  my doctors understand exactly what we’re dealing with and how to move forward.  While they’re doing their part, I’m doing mine.

• I’m still drinking my morning tea. (Yes…the Cokes are gone, and so is most of the sugar.)
• I’m still a Realtor with Keller Williams Platinum Realty. If you, or someone you know, is thinking about  buying or selling a home, I’d love to help.
• I’m still learning from Granny’s old remedies.
• I’m still working on lowering my A1C.
• And most importantly, I’m still trusting God.

I know He already has the answers, and will reveal  them when the time is right.

As long as I wake uup to another sunrise, I know that He isn’t finished writing my story.

And that means there’s still another chapter to write.

A Little About My Granny… And Her Cupboard

Whenever life became stressful, Granny’s prescription wasn’t found in a pill bottle.

It was a rocking chair on the porch and a cup or glass of tea.

She would wallk out to the garden, gather a handful of mint leaves and the purple flowers she simply called her “purple sunflowers”.  Today we know it was echinacea.  She knew that it helped with colds and sniffles, but I suspect the real “medicine” was the conversation that came with the tea.

She’d  hand me a warm cup, smile, and remind me:

“Worry has never changed tomorrow, but if you let it, it will steal today. ”  I

I’ve thought about those words a lot lately… and I think Granny was right.

NEXT:   Life Goes On