|I wanted to post a pic of the wicked-cool scar|
but it probably wouldn't get past the censors.
They band you up in these places like a migrating waterfowl. The white one reminds my anesthetized mind who I am. I forget what the orange one is. The green one classifies me as a "high fall risk". Translated into real terms, this means you're not allowed to go to the bathroom by yourself because they think the drugs they've given you, so that you will feel no pain, may make you keel over and bump your head...thus causing you some pain. But what are we worried about? You're full of narcotics so it wouldn't hurt, right?
High fall risk.
Isn't life simply one extended high fall risk? We're all standing on the cliff of eternity...we just don't sense it most of the time.
After a couple days of waiting for results, the surgeon just came by to let me know that the biopsy on the tumor was clear.
I guess I had been preparing myself for whatever road the Lord wanted to take us down...but I really, really didn't have any desire to veer down the cancer road at this point in life.
I have no idea how I'd have reacted if the news had gone the other way...but all day I've been chewing on the words of Job:
Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.
What a thought. This world is not my home...just passing through in the arms of Jesus...if he takes me now, so be it...you want me to question his judgment? What peace there is in not having your roots down in this transient place.