Tag Archives: Thanks

The Interloper’s Demise ~ Redux

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If you’re new to the blog, this story began last year. You may want to read the earlier parts to catch up with the rest of us. You can find it here … Part OnePart TwoPart Three … Go ahead, we’ll wait.

 

Caution TapeIt was a cold day in February, even for Florida, when the Mastermind ended his onslaught on my house. He put away his tools and took my special bed. He’d done all he could. Was it enough? We’d have to wait three months before we could find out. His photon torpedoes made my house swell obscuring the ability to get an accurate picture of what was inside.

I’d been through this before. I laid in bed every night praying to my Creator that the Intruder was gone for good. Wanting to prove the cutter wrong when he said, “You may have to live with him for the rest of your life.”

Three months later we tested my house and I met with the cutter. The Interloper was still there. To get away from the photons, the trespasser had broken into separate pieces and he was now scattered across the upper floor of my house. But the cutter’s eyes twinkled. “I want you to meet with the Brazilian,” he said. “We think we may have found another course of action.”

Motivated to rid myself of this evil presence, I ran head-long to the Brazilian’s office. I liked him and wondered if he was still eating his daily turkey sandwich. Inside he informed me that there might be another way. Medicines that I would feed my house twice daily. The treatment was working with a woman who had the same Trespasser as I did and he wanted to try it with me. I readily agreed.

Three months downing two types of medication in a specific order. I waited with fingers crossed and prayers sent to my Guardian for the outcome of testing. Had the pills done anything to eradicate the Intruder? Gleefully, the Brazilian brought good news. One spot was gone and the rest of the spots were shrinking or stable. I looked heavenward and praised my God. After so many years chasing this Interloper, I could handle “shrinking or stable.” We decided to continue the treatment for another three months.

Those three months came to a close this past Monday. I’d completed all my testing last week. Anxiously, I waited with my mother in the Brazilian’s office for news. The Brazilian strolled in shaking our hands and chatting pleasantries. I watched his face for any signs. He sat down at his desk and poked on his computer.

“You’re clear.” He stated matter-of-factly as if he was talking about the sky or a background check.

I paused. Not really sure I heard him right but knowing I did. “I’m clear?” I asked. “What do you mean I’m clear?”

“Your chest is clear.” He said as he broke out into a wide smile.

“Clear?” I asked again, not able to comprehend the results. “Completely clear?”

“Clear.” He waited for the news to sink in.

I turned to my mother whose eyes were shining. She had a large smile on her face.

“Look at the CT report,” he said, turning the monitor toward me. “No evidence of cancer.”

I shook my head unable to speak. In shock, I suppose.

“Continue the course of medication for now and in another three months we’ll get a CT Chest and Abdomen to make sure.”

“Am I cancer free?” He looked up at me without saying anything. “In remission?” I offered, wanting to put words to this condition. The Brazilian stopped short of claiming either outcome.

Even though I still have a hard time believing where we are right now and that the Intruder is actually gone. I praise my God. Singing the Doxology with a whisper of hope in my heart.

Praise God from Whom all blessings flow.

Praise Him, all creatures here below.

Praise Him above, ye Heavenly Host.

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Jesus had always told me that I would be fine. But in our Christian economy, fine could be healthy and living or living with Him in Heaven. I had been prepared for either conclusion for two long years.

So for now the Interloper seems to have been beaten back. Dead again. And me? I’m still stunned. Not really sure how to cope without the beast who’s been intertwined within me for so long; but ready to try!

A Silly Monday Post

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There is something inherently beautiful about eggs straight from the farm and fresh from the chicken and I get all sorts of wonky when I have an opportunity to obtain some.

It may stem from growing up in Connecticut where we had farm-fresh eggs available to us within a mile or two in every direction.  It felt like a covert operation to drive to a farm, find the table with eggs set upon it, leave a dollar under the rock (it was always a rock), leave a used egg carton if you could, and make off with a carton of this delicious forbidden fruit.

When I was living in Arizona I, quite literally, hunted for the exceptional vessel that would be deemed worthy to hold my eggs.  With their blues, browns, ivories, and whites; they became a patchwork art that changed daily with use.   This berry bowl made the grade.  Is it very weird that padding out to the kitchen after a good night’s sleep and seeing this bowl full of eggs makes me so very happy?

If I know hen-fresh eggs are available somewhere, I’ll go through any sort of hurdle to obtain these beautiful little ovoid shells.  Such yummy goodness!  Surely, when God was leading the Israelite’s into paradise, He was talking about the land of milk and honey and farm-fresh eggs.

May God bless us all with His abundant provision.

Felecia