Melenoma. It's been three years . . . Annual test results are in . . .

It seems like yesterday and at the same time it seems like forever, since I was first diagnosed with melanoma.

Most days I don't think about it all that much. My leg, while it will never be what it was, gets me where I want to go and even lets me garden on my knees these days.  When my camera is in my hands I don't even think about my leg, even if I'm photographing a wedding for hours on end. It still acts up after I've been really busy, but I've been blessed by the fact that I can set my own schedule. I know that after a busy day on my feet I will spend the next day doing much quieter things. I'll hang out in my chair with my leg up and read books or watch video lessons on various aspects of photography. (On extra special days, I'll do 'research' for my fantasy digital pieces by watching The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings. Ahem . . .)

But these last few summers, as I get close to the time to have my annual x-ray, ultrasound and blood tests, I find myself feeling . . . a little uncomfortable. Kind of like there's a low level buzzing going on. I don't actually realize what's happening, I just feel like everything is just a bit too busy, too noisy, too out of control. I become overwhelmed much more quickly and peace gets harder to find.

Then it's time to take the tests and I wrap myself in God's promises as I visit the labs.

My melanoma doctor is wonderful. You know how normally when your doctor orders tests they don't call you unless there's something wrong? 'No news is good news'? My doctor's belief is 'No news is no news.' His office always phones with test results! Mine is good news once again. No sign of cancer recurring anywhere.

And then I realize where that discomfort and overwhelm came from. And that, for another six months I can let it go. (My check ups are every six months. Full on tests are once a year.)

This year, as I've been taking my Photoshop Artistry course I found my self creating things that showed how I felt, even though I didn't really acknowledge where those feelings were coming from.

It's oddly comforting. I made this piece after the news really sunk in . . .

Life is vibrant and filled with hope.

I had made it originally to match several others I had been working on and it love  the 'quieter' version as well but, something about the beautiful vibrancy, light and texture in the first one really appeals to me today.

Version one

These pieces were made while I struggled with those uncomfortable feelings of everything being just a little bit too much:

 

I find it interesting to see the differences in what I made.

 It's becoming clearer everyday that this is going to be an ongoing journey. I will never get rid of those 'uncomfortable, everything's too . . .'  times in my life becuase we are still living 'in the world' with all the hardship and sorrow that sometimes brings.

And that's okay. Because no matter how I feel, or what's going on around me, I know where my help comes from. That peace, and the joy that comes with it, are enough.

Psalm 121

A song of ascents.

¹ I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
    where does my help come from?
² My help comes from the Lord,
    the Maker of heaven and earth.

³ He will not let your foot slip—
    he who watches over you will not slumber;
⁴ indeed, he who watches over Israel
    will neither slumber nor sleep.

⁵ The Lord watches over you—
    the Lord is your shade at your right hand;
⁶ the sun will not harm you by day,
    nor the moon by night.

⁷ The Lord will keep you from all harm—
    he will watch over your life;
⁸ the Lord will watch over your coming and going
    both now and forevermore.

More Melanoma Tests. This One will be an Annual Occurrence.

I had my first annual abdominal ultrasound and chest X rays on Friday.

I wasn't at all worried about it until I was standing at the desk and noticed the phrase on the bottom of my requisition form.

Stage 3 melanoma.

Gulp.

Most of the time I can put that fact right out of my mind but waiting for yet another test brings everything rushing right back again.

I held it all together, determined that this time I would not cry during a test. I was doing fairly well too until it dawned on me that the ultrasound technician was spending an inordinate amount of time on my right side going back over the same areas again and again, while she zipped over the left side in no time. (The left side is were my melanoma was originally found)

I started getting a little nervous and my eyes began to leak a little. I wasn't crying mind you, just leaking a tiny bit. I may have had to blow my nose too but I think I'm getting a cold . . .

She went out to check the pictures, came back and asked me to sit up so she could take more in that position.

I started sweating. Was it getting hot in here?

Next stop X ray.

What in the world??? A full on xray and then only the right side??!

"All done!" my cheerful technician chirps "You should get the results by late Tuesday."

I went to the truck and cried. No leaking, just full on chest heaving, snottery nose crying.

I decided to treat myself to a very late lunch from Kentucky Fried Chicken. There is no eating or drinking anything for 6 hours before the test which had was at 3 in the afternoon and I was hungry!

I got home to discover they had forgotten the gravy. The gravy is the best part! My eyes may have started leaking again.

Thankfully Henry was home by that time and insisted we go out for an early supper (with real food) instead. Holly lucked out and got my chicken and Henry and I headed to my favorite restaurant.

 Joey's in Mayfield Common.

I love that man!

I got the call early this morning . . . All clear. No melanoma detected. Still cancer free!

The prayers of thanksgiving that went up!!

And all the attention to the right side? Well if I had had any sense at all and called my nurse friend Nicole she would have told me that's where all the organs are . . .

But even then . . .

Now I'm off to work on a very large rhubarb leaf grown by one of my neighbors. It's a beauty!

Stop back tomorrow at lunch time for a new feature Tamara and I are starting.

Travel Tuesdays- Adventures at Home and Abroad.

As you might imagine, mine will likely focus more on the 'At Home' and Tamara's on the 'Abroad' but we both firmly believe that adventure can be found anywhere.

Adventure is an attitude not a place on the map.

My Recovery Nest

So here's a peek at my recovery nest. . .

Turtles and magazines (Gifts from lovely family members)

DVDs (One from a friend and 3 season's worth from myself. (Because I'm going to milk this" I can't do anything myself",  for all it's worth. . .)

Roses from mom. . .

 Flowers for my bedroom from Dorothy. . .

And books. We can't forget the books. . . .

These should do me for a bit. . .

*** Have to say. . . day two. . . not nearly as nice as day one. Here's hoping day three is. . .

31 Day of Looking for Beauty in the Everyday

Last year I enjoyed the Nestor's 31 days series.

(Links to 31 days posts. . .)

Day 2 Homemade Bread,  Day 3 Beauty in Concrete, Day 4 Lunching with a Friend  Day 5 Beauty in fall leaves,  Day 6 An Unexpected Opportunity to Create, Day 7 The Beauty of Being a Goat at Thanksgiving
Day 8 The Beauty of Family at Thanksgiving  Day 9 Surgery Today Day 10 My Recovery Nest Day 11 Beautiful, Helpful, Big Boys  Day 12 Getting Ready For Halloween Day 13Another Sneak Peak at Concrete Leaves  Day 14 The Process. . . Concrete Leaves  Day 15 A Fall Visit to Wellington Garden Center  Day 16 The Beauty of Acreage Fresh Eggs

Day 1

This year I was determined to participate as well, because this year, I had a topic close to my heart and I was very excited (and a little scared. . .) to write about it.

This past year has not been an easy one. Approaching menopause caused my hormones to start doing a crazed version of the Hokey Pokey a few years ago, leaving me with serious anxiety as a result. (did any of you know that hot flashes are not the only symptom of changing hormones??? I sure wish I had. . .) I was having anxiety attacks out of the blue and had to constantly question whether my feelings were reasonable or  a result of the Hokey Pokey going on in my body.

Driving a bus load of school kids through one construction zone after another became a real challenge and I was so very grateful when my youngest graduated last year, as that meant the end of school fees which allowed me to retire, beginning a long held dream of  putting my Master Gardener's certificate to good use by going into business for myself.

 Of course, the fact that I was no longer in a stressful job didn't mean that the Hokey Pokeying had stopped.

 It just gave me something else to be anxious about. . .

When I left bus driving, I  left my bus kids and their parents with a  bit of a problem.  A lovely young woman was willing to drive the bus for that year but she had small children and was only able to provide a shortened version of the bus route. That meant most of the parents would have to drive to and from a common pick up point rather than getting the near door to door service they were used to.

Guilt and anxiety seem to go hand in hand for me. I spent months feeling guilty, which in turn caused more anxiety. . .

A lot of it. And not just about retiring. About everything I did.

I baked bread? But I didn't bake cookies. We ate store bought.

 I grew lettuce? But half of it ended up in the compost because I didn't make a salad with dinner. (or worse yet, I threw it into the garbage because it was quicker.)

 I started flowers from seed? But half of those ended up in the compost pile when I waited too long to transplant them.

The year I had looked forward to for so long was just. so. hard.

So I prayed. And prayed. And searched God's word. And prayed some more.

And then. . .

Slowly. . . quietly. . .  I began to see beauty again.

In the midst of a hard day something small would catch my eye, and the simple beauty of it would wash over me, leaving me certain of God's power and majesty right there in the everyday.

More and more, I would see beautiful bits of everyday:

 Seeds that sprouted. . .

  Light shining through the kitchen window, throwing a magical glow on a pot of tulips. . .

The astounding color found in the yolk of my farm fresh egg. . .

 A bear hug from one of the boys. . .

 The gleam from a freshly washed glass cake stand.

Dog walking became a favorite activity as Jada and I would jump into the truck, making a quick drive to a spot in the city filled with gracious old houses, well tended gardens and a view over the river valley.

 God spoke to me in these beautiful bits of everyday, reminding me over and over that He was in charge. He created the world and everything it and he wants and commands me to live my life joyfully, not filled with anxiety.

I look for beautiful things now.  Through the lens of my camera more often than not these days.

A few months ago God threw a new challenge my way.

 I was diagnosed with malignant melanoma.

I spent two months waiting for answers. Answers came. At least, some of them. So far so good. . . 

Next week's surgery and the resulting biopsy report a few weeks later will, God willing, give us the whole story.

Beauty in the everyday has become even more precious.

And. . .

Odd as it sounds, my anxiety has slowly slipped away to be replaced with a deep down certainty that, come what may, God is in control.

 I never was.

He never meant for me to live a life of I should and I must.

God gave me life to live to the fullest, talents to use for his glory, and love to pour out on everyone he sends my way.

However long or short that life might be.

Because really. . . any one of us could get hit by a bus tomorrow.

All we ever really have is today.

And I intend to spend  a part of every today I am given. . .

 Looking for the beautiful.

Check back each day this month as I post on Looking for Beauty in the Everyday. (at least. . . I hope I meet the challenge of posting everyday. . . !)