Here I Am

So, I finished my last chemo, they gave me a bottle of sparkling cider and I gave them gift cards. We took lots of pictures, and then I left. It's almost been two weeks now.

What do you do with a post-chemo patient? I would like to know because I am one, and I don't quite know what to do with myself. Hello! I have five kids and a loaded leadership position at church that's waiting for me! I know. There's plenty to do with all that. I just don't know what to do with myself. I feel like I just got off an airplane, but lost some of my luggage.

I know some things are going to take a while to recover. They say two years, as far as getting my mental acuity back. No telling when the feeling in my fingertips will return. Lung capacity...probably before the month is through. Hair growth...let's not even go there.

All fair trade-offs, I guess, for what I've gained from the whole ordeal. I gained the privilege of seeing deep into the sincerest, kindest part of many a beautiful human souls. Still don't know what to make of the stupid ones though ( stupid as in the "get-over-yourself-already" meaning of the word). I guess God has a whole other trial waiting to help me understand those people. It would be easier if I'd just pray for the heart to love them right now, huh? okay...I will. But would it be wrong to include a request in my prayer that they move to New Zealand in the mean time?

I know. Cancer survivors are supposed to be born again lovers of all nature and mankind. I'm supposed to dance by the side of the road when I get a flat tire, because after all...I beat cancer and I'm alive!!!! Actually, I do that all the time. Really. Sometimes I even pull over when I see other people with flat tires and dance for them. (They really like it, I can tell.) It's just that...well, never mind. Maybe the "stupid ones" are more like me than I care to admit. Maybe they've also lost some luggage recently and are just waiting, like me, for it's return.