Do you ever wonder how birds can see where they're going? I'm sitting here reflecting on how I might start this post, watching all kinds of our little feathered friends darting around at top speed. How do they stop so easily, landing on a branch looking totally unruffled and calm? I know there are scientific answers for these questions but it's nice to be able to ponder them when just sitting quietly watching the beginnings of a light dusting of snow, flakes gently falling.
Today, the end of January, 2017 included a visit to the 'symptom' doctor to review my aches and pains, stiff and sore joints and attempt to determine what might be after shocks of chemo, and what might be, well just due to aging. She didn't hesitate to remind me that everyone has some aches and pains. All in all, we left everything as is, with a follow up in 3 months.
Last week though was a bit of a different story. At the beginning of January, while at the pool with grandkids and one of their moms, I experienced an unexpected kick in the stomach as one of our little ones dove under the water kicking as they went. Oh my, I thought at the time, that hurt more than just a little. As the month passed, the realization came that there could possibly be some internal bruising as the discomfort wore on. I was feeling internal lumps and bumps that were odd and each day my imagination shifted into a higher gear. By last week, I called my family doctor and got in the same day. Weather being bad, they asked at 10:30 if I could be there for 11 as they were having cancellations - how convenient. Doc agreed things did not feel 'normal' and arranged an ultrasound. While lying in bed the next morning, the phone rang asking if I could be at KGH by 9, this being about 8:15. We had friends, Shannon and Tony over for a sleepover from Mississauga so I invited Shannon to join me on the adventure. Off we went for 9 a.m. and by 9:30 we were already heading home again. A call on Thursday confirmed that there was 'no disease progression'. Amazingly the symptoms of this mass seemed to subside and who knows, did the swelling disappear? The stress my brain put me under to this point was exhausting to say the least, despite my rational mind repeatedly reminding me there could not be such a drastic change within six weeks of a stable cat scan. I fervently promised God if all was ok I would try even harder to do His will for me, each and every day. More on that momentarily.
We were able to get home again in time to go to Mass at 10:45 which we had arranged in honour of Tony's mom's passing in November. It happened to be a school mass so we made ourselves at home right up front with the classes from grades 1 and 2, thanking them for allowing us to join them. Mike, attempting to be friendly, spoke to a child behind him who ended up being chastised for talking in church. Too funny! I remember I used to confess talking in church as a sin at that age. Father Leo asked the kids during the homily what came to mind when they saw a couple holding hands. A young boy in grade 5, sitting beside me, patiently held up his hand and replied "friendship and faithful trust". Now isn't that profound coming from a 10 year old!
The relationship with Shannon and Tony goes back a long way and includes both the church and KGH. On a planned visit in 2002, I was to meet them at the church for 10:30 mass after which we were to go for brunch. They looked for me at mass, only to hear from a neighbour, something was drastically wrong as there was an ambulance and firetruck at our house that Sunday morning in October. They went down to KGH and met up with me on the morning my first husband, Rick died suddenly at home. Shannon and I had met in 2000 at the Calgary airport, both en route to the same fundraising course at, of all places, the Banff Centre. We spend a wonderful week together roaming the streets, hiking up Sulphur Mountain, meeting a young woman and her little tyke, going on a bit of a road trip without chains on the tires, being turned back, going to church and of course dipping in the hot springs. Oh, yes, we did complete the course as well. We've remained in touch and visit whenever they can make it to Kingston. It's a long distance relationship but one that we treasure. Each visit is filled with laughter, fun and many silly moments among the few serious and interesting conversations. We seem to be able to connect and pick up where we left off.
Oh my, I haven't even mentioned having gone for cataract surgery last Monday, January 23rd. It seems I usually glide through the medical update and move on, yet this time it seems to weave back and forth between stories of friends. For once in my life it was a procedure I was actually looking forward to - no pun intended. The prep was much like any surgery with vital signs, IV port inserted, visit from an anesthesiologist, surgeon and nurses. Once into the operating room, it was like a well oiled machine, oxygen in the nose, a relaxant or, as I like to say, an "I don't care" drug in the IV, cover over the face and so on. For all these years I've thought you'd be able to see them coming at you with scalpel or laser and not be able to believe they would keep your eye open. Well, not so! It was just looking at 3 lights and what seemed like a laser light show during the entire procedure which took all of 10-15 minutes. It was incredibly fast and efficient. Apparently they can do up to 20 surgeries a day, that day only 9 were planned, due to an emergency. What a huge difference!
Not - 'I can see every speck of dust', or, 'what I thought was beige is now white', but rather not wearing either pair of glasses since the surgery and still being able to read much better. The second eye is being done on February 7th and I can't wait. The clarity of vision is wonderful and even if I need glasses for distance, I thank God for the chance to see so much without the haze of near blindness. My heart goes out to all those experiencing various impairments to their sight.
In the meantime I've taken to attacking the deluge of paper on my desk like a one eyed pirate boarding a ship to be plundered. Not that I've had to wear a patch other than a clear one at night.
It's hard to imagine how much time can be taken up deciphering one hen scratched piece of paper and the intended activity that goes with it. What an experience to realize how much the 'devil is in the details'! While pleased with the progress made so far last week and yesterday, I'm not sure I want to know what ideas are lurking in the back of my brain, just waiting to burst forth as soon as there's a little open space to jump through.
This post was to be about relationships and so today's message will end with an insight about the reason I go to church. It's not something that I cleverly discovered, but rather another one of those simple but brilliant in its simplicity, moments of late. So many people insist they don't need to go to church to have a relationship with God and for too long, I've gone along because I had no real counter point. Well, let's pivot just a little, and, see if we agree that God is always with us.
If God is always with us, that means He is where we are, whether at home, at work, at leisure or anywhere else. We all even have friends we spend a lot of time with, going here, going there enjoying one another's company. We drop in on each other for coffee (in my case Red Rose tea), work on a project together or simply spend time.
Ok, here's the pivot point. What kind of relationship would we have if our friends had to come to our house to see us, had to follow us everywhere, and patiently wait until we had time for them? Would we take them for granted? Would we treat them with respect? Would we lose sight of the fact that they were even there? How do we respond when given the opportunity to go to their house and see how they live? Would we be interested in meeting some of their other friends who regularly go to visit and spend time at their house? Is this beginning to sound familiar?
It seems, if we are not willing to accept an invitation from God to go to His house, what does that say about the mutual relationship? I wonder if it makes Him question whether He even matters to us. After all if we don't take part in His life at His house, how can we expect Him to provide us with a greater life than we can even imagine here during our earthly existence. It's certainly not an either/or, especially because God has more patience and love than any of us can ever hope for, and will come through despite our shortcomings. These days I actually look forward to, yes, setting the alarm during the week, and going to God's house to start the day with Him and a few of His friends. Those same friends have become my friends even though for the most part, we just meet at church. I treasure some of those people who share my view about taking the time for a visit.
On that note, I hope I've left something for you to think about, or laugh at, and we'll connect again come Valentine's Day or thereabouts! Take care and bundle up.
Lots of love and hugs,
Liz
dobbsjones@gmail.com
"Prayers wrapped in faith and sent with love are the greatest gifts we can receive."
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