Misery and beyond

Yay! George wasn’t cancerous!  The rotten squatter did weigh a pound, and I was really happy to see him go, but recover after surgery was a beast!

Several of my organs went on strike after the procedure and the following 2 ½ weeks were complete misery. While I was convalesing at my mom’s house during that time, Captain Awesome was so worried about making me feel worse he slept on the floor by my bedside for the entire two weeks. He wanted to make sure I didn’t need anything while I slept.

I told you he was awesome!           I also count myself lucky to have the best Mom in the world!

                             

Between the two of them and other family members, I was able to get back on my feet. I resembled a human question mark for a long time and slouched around the house like a crippled zombie, but by week three I was able to go back to work.  

It’s a good thing I can do that while laying in a recliner in my PJs! During that time I completed Book 3. Three Insane Trust Exercises. (Not to be confused with Three Critical Mistakes. I’m working on that one at the same time and decided it would be Book 4 instead of 3.) Insane Trust Exercises will be out the door to critique and beta readers very soon!

So, happy day, I can’t move faster than a 40-minute mile, (totally pathetic unless you’re 70 years old.) but I’m at least able to get up and do things on my own now!

Thanks to all those who kept me in their thoughts and prayers during this very scary and trying time. I really appreciate it!  God Bless!

Post Surgery

The illegal immigrant was successfully outed!  

Rotten squatter took the uterus with it. George was also "stuck" to a few things, so it took two and a half hours instead of the anticipated one hour to conduct the eviction.

I've been very sleepy and it's hard to talk, so I didn't make phone calls--and I'm falling asleep while I'm typing...  

I'll keep you informed about biopsy results and George's weight. Awesome and I were totally bummed that we forgot to ask.

Thanks for checking in on me! 

One Little Miracle At A Time

Hey, our prayers were answered yesterday! A surgical spot opened up for Tuesday the 16th. (Was scheduled for the 19th) You wouldn't think three days would make that much of a difference, but its HUGE when you want to evict an internal intruder.
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When I told Awesome about the new surgery date, he picked me up off the ground and hugged me--while I was still on the phone with the nurse.  After I got off, my whole family did the Happy Dance.

Then I thought, "Wait a minute! I'm excited to get cut open??" Jeesh! That really doesn't sound fun, but I'm still clinging to the hope that its a rogue fibroid and it'll be sentenced to the trash bin with relative ease.


Yes, I'm still shamelessly soliciting prayers on my behalf! Thanks for them and all the well wishes!

That's What Friends Are For!

12/13/14

Fellow writer, blogger, and awesome person, Sharee Wanner sent me an email with the best advice of the day. She said the following scripture helped her mom when she was fighting breast cancer:

1 Timothy 1:7 For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind."

 

Another scripture Sharee recommended was one that helps her when she has trials or is asked to do hard things: Philippians 4:13, "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me."

THANKS FOR THE UPLIFTING MESSAGE SHAREE! 

DARK HUMOR

12/10/14 

Awesome, my teenage son, and I were sitting on my bed yesterday. We somehow got onto the topic of the high probability I would lose at least one ovary and the uterus because George is selfishly spreading like an amoeba. I said, “So when the doctor goes in to operate, the ovary and uterus are going to be saying, 'Take George! I was here first! Take him!'"

Awesome said, “Yeah, the ovary will be clinging to the small intestine. 'I’m too young to die!'"

Speaking on George’s behalf Handsome added, “'Put the scalpel down or the gall bladder gets it!'”

For some bizarre reason, we were all laughing hysterically…

Do you think laughter is the best medicine, or are we all certifiably crazy?