There were 2 tables. At one table sat the young generation - my kids and my niece. Excitement, laughter, and giggles punctuated their rapid conversation as they discussed the hot topics of that year, 2007, the latest songs, current movies, and other teenage interests. At the other table sat the older generation – myself and a few of my aging aunts and uncles. Moans and sighs carried our slow conversation as each one discussed concerns that were relevant to us… “Well, I think my knees are about to give out.” “My cataracts are so bad I can’t see to drive anymore.” “My arthritis is flaring up again.” “Doc says it’s time to do something about my hemorrhoids.” I couldn’t help but smile at the differences in topics and volume at the 2 tables.
Whenever I talk about my physical condition, I remind myself that most people care very little about what my body is doing, my latest aches and pains, my failing eyesight, or how my digestive system is functioning. However, I know some people read this blog knowing I have advanced cancer and they wonder how I’m doing. In a nutshell, my body is doing much better than I thought it would be doing at this point. Four years ago, when I discovered my cancer had returned, I expected my body to be long in the grave by now, so any condition my body is in currently is an improvement from what I expected.
Still, it’s rather interesting to take inventory. I have one remaining kidney. My pancreas is in bad shape, causing digestive issues. I’m missing a rib that was taken out when surgery was done to remove cancerous lymph nodes. For my eyes, I have either cataracts or Fuchs Dystrophy Disease, not sure which. My CT scans say I have Degenerative Spinal Disease, which translates into a lot of back aches and some difficulty sleeping at night. My prostate is enlarged. I have a growing potato sized cancerous tumor protruding on my left side that is sometimes painful, along with a baseball size tumor in the middle of my abdomen threatening to cause problems in that area. There are several cancerous nodules floating around my mid-section, plus several in my lungs. Those along with the tumor compressing my left lung limits my breathing capacity. As some might say, “Otherwise, I’m doing fine.”
On my good days, I’m able to help Hannah some in watching little Nathaniel and baby Rebekah. Hannah often asks me how we raised her and her siblings when they were this young. This month marks the 17th year Jan has been gone. She would have been so much better at caring for the grandkids and remembering details on how we raised our own. But I do what I can. So far, I’m still able to take care of myself. Hospice care will be reserved for the time when I can no longer do that. The IMB continues to do an outstanding job of taking care of me. I couldn’t ask for better. Although I do have my bad days, I feel fine about not taking any daily medication or undergoing cancer treatment. I’m quite content to have to sit at the second table of ailing bodies. The Lord continues to be the source of my strength. Because of Him, I have no problem finding joy in each day as I await my ‘promotion’.
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