Making A Grand Entrance

When I got up this morning my front door looked like this from the outside:

And this is what it looked like inside the house:

Late this afternoon this is what my front door looked like from outside:

And on the inside:

In review, from this:

To this:

Oh, yeah!!!!

Because Some Of You Have Asked

Photo Credit

And perhaps others wish to do so.

(Males readers - assuming there are some - might want to go check the stats on your favorite sports team or something. There will probably be "female problems" mentioned and you know how you feel about those.)

Still here? Okay, then.

During my annual check-up I answered the questions that the nurse asked. Just routine, right? Apparently not so much. One caused her to quickly exit the room. Was it something I said? Evidently. All of a sudden I had the sinking feeling like I was the captain of the Titanic who'd just received word that the ship was entering iceberg infested waters. "Okay, that's not good," I thought, "but probably no real danger either."

Ha! Ha! Oh, I am so naive. Having successfully navigated through my years of female adulthood with only minor difficulties charted in my logbook I had assumed my ship would arrive at its port of destination unharmed. Suddenly now it looked like a good idea to change my name to Molly Brown!

Before I really knew what hit me, I was sent to radiology for an ultrasound! The technician told me I would hear something within 3 days. When I hadn't heard anything in a week I began to believe that all the fuss was over nothing. When they finally did call me on Day 11 we were out to lunch with Dan and Lisa (who were visiting for a few days) and I was expecting the routine "everything is normal" spiel.

But that's not what she said. I asked her to repeat the message, several times as it turned out, and not just because of the noise in the Cracker Barrel.

The ultrasound showed things that aren't supposed to be there. Sadly, this rare lunch opportunity was somewhat marred by the news. And some of my male companions who normally wouldn't know much about my "female problems" (that would be The Bear and Dan) received an explanation, too.

A couple of days later I was back at the doctor's office for a more complete explanation. There is a small mass on my ovary. They don't know for sure what it is (the report said just that) but the doctor believes that it could be a cyst.

I was glad Pastor Dad was with me that day because when she started throwing around the "c" word (cancer, not cyst) my brain stalled for a few moments even though the doctor kept right on talking in encouraging tones. They pinched me with a needle to bring me back to reality. We were told that the results of the blood tests normally take 24 hours.

It was 5 days later when we were notified of the results and we were at church camp at the time. If nothing else I've learned that my doctor's office has the uncanny ability of calling me when I cannot fully process information due to situational overload. But I did finally figure out most of what I was told including the fact that I needed to make an appointment for more tests. So now I know that my CA-125 (the ovarian cancer marker test) was low and that my FSH level (the test to tell if I'm post-menopausal) was moderately high. This was a good news-bad news scenario. It means that the THING is most likely not cancerous. But it also means it has no way of going away on it's own. And go away it must!

I've got another ultrasound scheduled for early September. If it hasn't grown surgery will be scheduled at everyone's convenience. (Is there really such a thing as a convenient time to have surgery?)

So pray that there isn't any change. Unless of course you want to pray that it disappears. I have no objection to Divine intervention!

I'm not currently in a lot of pain (I'm pretty tough) although I was having some bad backaches that I thought were kidney related prior to receiving the diagnosis, but other than that I'm feeling fine. Pains due to "female problems" are just par for the course for me.

If you have more questions, just ask and I'll get back with you. It might be in 3 days. Or it might be in 11. But answer it I will!

When I Have the Time

I'll tell you "How I Spent My Summer non-Vacation" (and what a humdinger of an essay that would be!). I'll probably need to break it up into manageable segments for the benefit of both the readers and this writer. I might even begin with a post entitled The Books of May 2011.

Yes, I really am that far behind.

Serious Things on Celebratory Days

One of my greatest fears as a blogger is that those who don't know me personally or are only casual acquaintances misunderstand when I am being sardonic and when I am being serious. Inflection doesn't translate well in print.

That brings up another one of my greatest fears. I am afraid of embarrassing or offending those of you who do know me personally.   It is NEVER my intention to do so.

Although my given name has not been revealed (and has become somewhat of a joke between writer and readers) most know it or have deduced it.  Even the blog name itself is somewhat misleading.  A more thorough nomenclature would be From the Fishbowl on a High Hill because the life of a minister's family is even less hidden than the city on the hill scriptural description of the Christian life.

Anyway,it boils down to this:  sometimes I feel the need to hide things, at least for a little while.  And also I'm afraid I might say the wrong thing and need to profusely apologize.  Endlessly.  (This has been happening to me a lot lately.  Really.)

I'm not myself these days.  And since I already feel like I live inside a fishbowl 'way up high on a hill in my real life the thought of virtually opening up has just seemed a bit much lately.


For instance, this weekend Pastor Dad will participate in the 10th and 11th funerals he's conducted or helped with in some way since April 1st.  That doesn't count other deaths in families of loved ones that have caused us to travel to other cities.   And there were at least 2 other local funerals in friends' families that we could not attend because of other obligations.  That's a lot of grief in less than 4 months!

Here's the part that I fear might be misunderstood.  Some might scoff since we have not personally buried a loved one.  I assure you, we have experienced multiplied sorrows ourselves.   It is quite overwhelming to spend so much of one's time in funeral homes!  And we are not hirelings.

About a month ago we recognized that we needed a break and took a Sunday evening off to attend another church.  The brief reprieve was to be the prelude to a week's vacation or Staycation.  It really was brief! That's the night Fen was rushed to Children's Hospital for emergency surgery.

Then a couple of weeks ago I went in for my check-up and unexpectedly found myself scheduled for tests in the radation department because of my answers to routine questions.  The bad news is that there is reason to be concerned.  The good news is that it looks like we caught it early.   Hooray for regular check-ups!

Why am I telling you all of this now of all days?

I guess it is because today is the day that Pastor Dad and I celebrate 33 years of marriage.  On this day in 1978 we promised to love each other in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, 'til death do us part.  Those promises were easy to make back then when the future looked like child's play.  We've reached the harder days.

And we just said good-bye to Dan and Lisa as their visit came to an end.  I hated to see them leave.

So while I hope to return to my regular style of blogging, including telling you about the things done this spring and summer apart from the moments of saying good-bye to loved ones departing for their homes in Glory or Vegas (which I know are nothing alike:  see, I can still be sardonic), for now I will just close by saying that life is wonderful, marriage is joyful, and every moment is a gift from God! 

Pastor Dad and I have spent 33 years pursuing Happily Ever After and are looking forward to the time when time together will eternally contain only the positive words of "health," "richer" and absolutely no parting with each other or our loved ones!

(Note to Pastor Dad:  You may now kiss the bride.)