In 39 Days I'll know Whether I Get to Live or Die

I want you to know I am not experiencing pain. Only periodic discomfort which I may refer to as an ache or muscle fatigue. Haven't even taken a Tylenol.

Had a little moment earlier today. It's actually been a great day. This morning Michael took me to the chiropractor, I go every two weeks now. It was a nice visit, it was short, he gently finessed a couple of cracks out of me. Later, hubby was out with an elderly pal for lunch and haircuts. I was at home, feeling pretty normal physically, just one little thumbprint-size hot spot in my back at the T4. I sat at Michael's desk to work on my laptop so I could try the lumbar support in his chair. It was nice. I turned on some R&B music on Spotify on the TV next to me and enjoyed it's soothing beautiful harmonies and easy beat. (It was Kenny Lattimore's "For You," which wasn't helpful at this moment--🎵 'cause this life is no good alonnne…🎵) Looking at my phone I noticed that the countdown app on my phone was counting up from my diagnosis. I realized I didn't want to be focusing on that, so I changed it to count down to my follow-up scan. That's when my "moment" began. With the beautiful music playing, being alone and looking at the countdown app I teared up as I thought to myself, "In 39 days I'm going to find out whether I get to live or die." That's a pretty strange thing to be facing. What a weird moment in life. The tears flowed. Other people can try to put themselves in that mindset to imagine how they'd feel, but it just wouldn't feel as real. Not as impending. After a couple of minutes I began to realize . . . I'm actually going to know before then which way I'm headed. Mr. Lump is my indicator of how things are going. It's currently not going well. I believe it will indicate how my now-altered course is going so that I won't be surprised when scan time comes. I'm grateful for that. I'm also grateful for the lump and my back telling me to change course now, not at the 90-day mark in May. 

Michael texted me that he was on his way home. I texted, "Yay!" and told him I'd had a mini meltdown and may or may not be misty when he gets home. 

By then I was back to reclining on the couch working on my computer, music still playing. When he came in I put the computer aside and he sat beside me on the sofa. I told him what happened and my thoughts about it. We talked, cried, and said special things to each other. We've been doing a lot of that last one lately. I knew once we got talking he could ground me and things would feel better. It's one of his super powers. He said he didn't think Heavenly Father's plan was to separate us yet. (Poignant moment). That that would be a stupid plan. (Laughter through tears). We're too good together. (Quiet sniffles.) He told me he feels Heavenly Father is guiding my path, and that even if we don't like the news on May 21, it's not over yet. Other ideas will be put in my path if I'm to find them. 

Yes, we have an eternal perspective. We know what came before this life, why we are here on the Earth, and the joy and happiness that is coming in the next life. This brings great peace. We just don't want to be separated yet.