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Apparently it’s “World Cancer Day” or “Global Cancer Awareness Day” but I don’t know the politically correct thing to do, so just curse the cancer of your choice. Because so often, you don’t get to choose your own cancer.

It’s been a quiet week here, soaking and applying battery acid to my feet three times a day, looking in the mirror saying “I KNOW I had eyelashes just the other day”, and dealing with this wild mess of short tumbleweed on top of my head.  One of my favorite things about cancer though is that unless I’m in desperate straights, I get loads of compliments. Beyonce isn’t flattered this often.  One more bottle of Zelboraf down, awesome.

I’m not sure what, if anything, can be done to help my poor stomach aches, but it isn’t cancer, so that’s good news. I’m not complaining. At least it comes and goes. Maybe I have one of those regular people problems like an ulcer. Or an alien parasite.

One of the new medicines puts me right to sleep. The Walgreen’s receipt listed $1600 charged back to our insurance therefore I probably won’t refill it. This could finally move me up into Medco’s Top Ten Wanted list. It’s hard enough getting us all out of the house without sweeping the perimeter for snipers. Thank you to my mela-pen pal T for the insurance/sniper analogy – love it!

I’m at the oncology clinic tomorrow for a quick check under the hood and blood work, then next week going for my three-month follow-up with the radiation oncologist to see what he thinks about the “zapping to hell” of my little brain tumors. And he should officially release me to drive. My broomstick is going back into the closet. Those trips to the veterinarian have been especially challenging.

I’m also trying acupuncture for the first time. Ever since my Dr had me try to lower my steroids three weeks ago my ears have been ringing. Sometimes loudly. It’s maddening. Acupuncture is supposed to help with all sorts of aches, pains, chemo nausea and anxiety. Best of all it isn’t a pill.

I believe deeply that I wouldn’t be here today without God. Each day I thank Him and I ask Him to keep me going and tell me what to do.

It’s difficult though. Like walking for the first time.

I particularly remember our #2, watching her grinning and excited, holding my hands out pleading and encouraging her to let go and come to me. I wanted her to leave her comfort zone and take those first steps straight into my loving arms. I knew she could do it, I wanted it so badly. Over and over I pleaded and cajoled.

At first she ignored me, happily clinging to the edge of the table, but I didn’t give up. I knew how happy she would be. She tried. She failed. I picked her up. Again and again. Finally, she succeeded and collapsed into my warm embrace and I celebrated like she’d conquered the world. In a way, she had.

God is like that. He waits patiently and he nudges us to grow out of our comfort zone. He knows we can do it if we listen and trust in Him. He will be there to pick us up when we fall and hold us in the end. He wants us to be happy. But it isn’t easy.

Peace to you all,
Amy

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