3 Years and Counting

This is what I used to do my mother's house and it's pretty much what I've let Sawyer do to my house today. He's had a jolly good time running from one toy box to the next, tearing through the contents, playing with what he likes, then strewing toys all across the floor as he heads in search of his next exploration.  I haven't had the where-with-all to keep up, because I feel like a mess myself today.

It's the day of my third year, post-cancer follow-up, the first time I've gone 6 months between check ups; and basically, these appointments are a nightmare.  I try to let them creep up and surprise me so they're not making me fret for days and days, but even though I forgot about this one until I got the reminder call last night, I still couldn't sleep and I've been anxiously waiting all day for the appointment to come and get itself over with.  Not that they ever go badly, I'm actually doing remarkably well, but it's a day of reliving 7 months of what we could call "legalized medical torture for a good cause"-more commonly known as cancer treatment.

I've always been really positive about my cancer experience because I witnessed intensely the power and love of my Heavenly Father and learned at a young age how to endure trials well, and I consider these two pieces of knowledge great tools for living strong and happy each day. But there are so many terrible, terrible things that I can also associate with the experience.  And while I overlook them in light of all the good, days like today-days where I have to back to where it hurts so badly-bring out memories of all the pain and fear and struggle.

My appointment is at 3:15pm and I don't want to go, but I will.  I won't want them to stick me with a needle one more time, but they will.  I won't want to talk about my ongoing symptoms and the possible deteriorations I have to look out for, but I will.  And hopefully by 4:15 it will be all over and I can breathe a tremendous sigh of relief, say a prayer of gratitude, and get back to counting all my beautiful blessings.  I can go back to having a day like every other, and maybe even get all those toys picked up.