Savoring the Simple with some Sugar in my Coffee

I just downed the last of today's sugar laced coffee. The surge of sweetness heightened my enjoyment since I normally refrain from the added calories. But after the last two days, I tossed aside the Food Babe's concerns and put a whopping teaspoon full of plain white sugar in my morning cup-of-Joe. 

And it was worth it. 

After days of waiting for doctor's to sort things out, I spoke with someone yesterday who scheduled a biopsy of my spleen for next Thursday, April 23rd @ 10:30 am. The short story remains I woke with severe abdominal pain in mid-March and spent hours in the ER. While all blood work was normal, a CT scan showed numerous lesions on my spleen. An ultrasound two weeks later confirmed the same. The spots can indicate several things: sarcoidosis, fungal infection, bacterial infection, or even lymphoma. 

Thus, the biopsy and two specific prayer requests. 

First, there is an added risk for internal bleeding when a biopsy of the spleen is performed (which is why I'll be in a hospital for the procedure). Second, I know of several situations where someone's first biopsy came back inconclusive, leading to a second. So will you please pray that I experience a routine biopsy (with no bleeding) that results in a concrete diagnosis?

That said, you can imagine there's a host of unusual thoughts and emotions swirling in my head. When a virus left me exhausted the last two days, it was hard not to ask, "Does this mean I'm showing signs of lymphoma? Am I about to begin a fight with cancer? Could my days really be numbered?"

While I feel perkier today, I'm still grateful I don't have to wait longer than a week for the biopsy. Waiting is never fun and I've been in a holding pattern for several months. But the questions sure bring life into focus. No matter what the biopsy report says, my days are numbered. Your days are numbered. We're essentially walking time bombs never knowing what breath might be our last.

Sound depressing? It's actually not meant to be. It's simply what it is. A reminder that today truly is a gift. That this moment is something to cherish, even if involving taxes and nail biting while I search my brain for words.

For while end of life thoughts are sometimes accompanied by a need to do more or to accomplish something big, my plans today simply include this blog post, sorting through paperwork, and starting another chapter in my book. Routine, maybe. But as I shuffled receipts into piles, I ran across a college roommate's phone number and dialed. Amelia and I don't talk much, but it sure was fun to catch up with the math enthusiast who lived on half the sleep I did in college. 

And truthfully, that's what I need most. A healthy dose of living here and now. Not for the big something I can do. But rather for the small difference I can make in the lives that are close. I've always grieved a little that I wasn't picked to be Amy Grant or Beth Moore. On the inside of me, I'm a performer and Bible teacher like them. In real life, I struggle to maintain the energy required to teach voice and piano part time while buying and preparing groceries. Forget clean toilets.

But maybe it's time I swallow who I am a little more and value the small scale difference I'm meant to make. Whether or not I have lymphoma, I've got some life to live in this body, with its limited resources and big-hearted fun. 

What about you? With your limits and personal challenges. With your ailments and daily pain. Do you get the small scale difference you were meant to make?

Don't give up. Don't give in. I'm not going to.