The powerful impact of a novel

I was reading a book by one of my favorite authors, Elin Hilderbrand, yesterday. I'd only recently discovered her and had fallen in love with her writing style. I'd done my best to purchase every book she'd ever written and when that was impossible, I'd scoured thrift stores in hopes of finding used copies. I tend to do that repeatedly when I find an author I really enjoy and after I've read their entire collection, I pass it on to someone else and start with another author. 

The book I was reading was called The Matchmaker. It's about a woman who lives on Nantucket. She works for the Chamber of Commerce and has a complicated personal life. She also has the gift of being able to match people and launch them into successful long-term relationships. The book is filled with colorful characters and is an easy read. I picked it up and put it down several times over the past couple of weeks, reading snatches whenever I had time. Although I never wanted to put it down, I couldn't sit and read all day, there were other tasks at hand. 

When I reached the last chapter of the book, I was filled with sadness. The main character is dying of cancer. As the author describes her pain and the way her diagnosis affects her relationships, I couldn't help but weep. The story was too close to my own. 

I found myself reliving emotions I'd faced 8 years ago, during my own cancer diagnosis. It didn't feel good to go down that path again and I wondered, when I'd ever be completely set free from the hold cancer had over me. 

In the author's notes, at the end of the book, I discovered she'd been diagnosed with breast cancer a month before the publication of her book, The Matchmaker. She'd opted to have a double mastectomy, just like me. Her notes explained she rarely based her writings on real life events, but in this particular book, she'd given the main character a cancer diagnosis before learning about her own. Of course, the character's cancer was pancreatic while the author's was breast, but cancer is cancer.  

I was surprised to learn of the author's diagnosis and surgery. When I read about it, I couldn't help but think, almost every woman I've ever known or read about has had either a personal experience with cancer or has been touched by it through the life of someone they've loved. It made me angry. 

I searched the internet for information on the author. I wanted to find out if she was still living. The book had been released in 2014, so that meant Ms. Hilderbrand and I had been diagnosed the same year. I was relieved to find out she's still alive and plans to stop writing in 2024. 

In one of her YouTube interviews, Ms. Hilderbrand says, "I would take the cancer again - and why? Because it is only in facing that which threatens your very being that you learn what it means to be alive."  That statement gave me pause. Taking a few minutes to reflect, I had to agree with her. I felt the same way. Until I was diagnosed with cancer, I took life for granted. Oh, I didn't mean to, but I did. I just assumed I'd wake up each morning. I assumed, I'd get out of bed and do whatever I wanted. I assumed, I'd live to a ripe old age and then when cancer disrupted my life, I was slapped with the reality that no one is promised tomorrow. 

It's sad to think it takes a health crisis to wake one up, isn't it? But more often than not, that's exactly what happens and many times, by the time we get the message, too much time has slipped under the bridge. 

One thing cancer has taught me is that life is a precious gift, one not to be squandered. I can honestly say I'm thankful it's taught me that. Now I cherish every moment and plan to keep on doing that until the day I die. 

Mountain Getaway

This past weekend, we had a lovely getaway to the mountains. We always enjoy going to North Georgia at the end of Summer or the beginning of Fall. This year, we went a little earlier than usual, so the trees hadn't started turning yet. It's always so pretty when the bright reds, oranges, and yellows of the leaves dot the mountainside with color. Even though the mountains were just covered in greenery, it was still pretty and we enjoyed the peacefulness. It's amazing what going days without hearing any traffic does for the soul. 

If I had my way, we'd live in the mountains in a little log cabin. I've always wanted to live in one and so has my sweet hubby. But as we grow older, we've realized we have to let some of our dreams go and err on the side of practicality. We need to be around family and all of the kids live in the city. 

Next year, we'll be making some big decisions on where we want to be for the remainder of our lives. We have no idea where God will lead us, but we're trusting He's got it all worked out for us. 

It's hard no knowing what the future holds, but really, all we can do is plan and hope things work out, right? I mean "Mann Tracht, Un Gott Lacht” is an old Yiddish adage meaning, “Man Plans, and God Laughs.” Despite our most careful planning, the Road of Life is unpredictable. I guess that's what makes it so fun!

Sometimes I wonder if God is sitting up ther on His big white throne looking down from heaven watching us like little ants. Of course, He knows what we're going to do before we do it, because He's Omnisicent, but it'd be fun to know how He sees us. Does He sit like a doting Father, hand to forehead thinking, " Oh no! Don't do that!" or "If you only knew what that choice would bring..." Since we have the gift of free will, He doesn't interfere with our choices but Jeremiah 29:11 says He has a good plan for us, to prosper us and not to harm us. 

Growing old is for the birds. I don't like it one bit! My body balks when I get out of bed. Joints and muscles I never noticed before now scream out in pain. When I look in the mirror, I see more gray hairs, more wrinkles, and more saggy skin. Daily I'm reminded this old body is wearing out. 

Sure, I could have taken better care of it when I was in my teens, but who thinks about approaching 70 then? When we're young we think we're immortal, but oh, how quickly time proves us wrong. 

Several of my friends have lost their spouses recently and those losses have caused me to give pause to my own life. What would I do if I suddenly lost my mate? I'd be so lost and lonely I couldn't bear it! I don't even want to think about it, so I'll change the subject now. 

I'm reminded God has numbered my days. I don't know how many He's allotted to me, but my time is in His hands. That's why I'm doing my best to take one day at a time now and enjoy each one to the fullest. It's hard, especially for a long term planner like me, but I'm trying. 

Vacations help slow me down. That's why we try to take one or two a year. When I'm on vacation, I don't think about the day to day routines, I'm more apt to let my hair down and just chill. Believe me, this old body needs to do a whole lot more of that! In fact, it could use being put on ice a few days! 

If you're finding yourself stressing out about daily life, plan a mini vacation. Get way from the daily grind. Find a place of respite and soak in some peace. It will do wonders for you, it surely will. 

Honoring My Icon

Olivia Newton-John

When news outlets announced the death of one of my favorite singers, Olivia Newton John, I wasn’t prepared for the gamut of emotions I’d face. At first, I was shocked. I knew she’d been fighting breast cancer for many years and had done my best to keep up with her story. I’d been interested in her use of marijuana and had been surprised to learn she and her husband had been growing their own for medicinal use.

As I continued reading about her death, I became overcome with feelings of deep sadness. Ms. Newton-John had been initially diagnosed with breast cancer in 1992 and had faced a recurrence in 2012 when cancer was discovered in her shoulder, then in 2014, it had moved into her spine.

She’d spoken openly over the years about breast cancer and had seemed to stay positive and upbeat. I’d admired her tenacity.

I first fell in love with Olivia Newton-John in the early 70s when she released her song, “I honestly love you.” In fact, I had that song played at my wedding. It was such a sweet, heartfelt song and completely conveyed my feelings toward my husband.

When the movie, “Grease,” came out, Olivia became everyone’s sweetheart. As she sang and acted alongside heartthrob, John Travolta, audiences were captivated. She was portrayed the all-American girl. I wanted to be like her.

In 2014, when I was diagnosed with breast cancer, I scoured the internet for information and in those searches, Olivia Newton-John kept popping up. I read everything I could about her and learned about her life pre and post cancer. As I read about her use of marijuana, because of its CBD content, I spoke with my doctor about it. If it was good enough for Newton-John, it was good enough for me. He was on board when I mentioned wanting to try it and I had a good experience. I even wrote an article about it hoping to share valuable insight with others.

As more details were announced regarding Ms. Newton-John’s death, my emotions changed from sadness to fear. If her cancer could return many years after her initial diagnosis, mine could, too. Standing in the kitchen, cellphone in hand, I began to weep. My husband came over to hold me and asked what was wrong. I began to explain about my superstar’s death and openly shared my fear of recurrence with him. “Don’t worry,” he said, “You’re going to be okay. You’re an 8-year survivor.” Though I heard the words he was saying, I didn’t believe them. Yes, I’m an 8-year survivor, but every day I live afraid.

Some days the fear is more prevalent than others. Most of the time, I can push it to the back of my mind, but when I experience a sudden illness, or an odd pain somewhere in my body, I wonder if the cancer has come back. I don’t want to live that way. Many survivors experience similar feelings. It’s a type of post cancer PTSD.

As I write this post, something outside the window catches my eye. It’s a beautiful swallowtail butterfly on the butterfly bush. I can’t help but focus on it. I love butterflies. As I watch it flit among the flowers, I notice something – this butterfly has 2 broken wings! There’s a big chunk taken out of the lower left wing and a piece missing from the top right. Coincidental? I don’t think so. I think God allowed me to see that specific butterfly today as a reminder. Butterflies with broken wings, can still fly. And I can still live without my breasts.

Should cancer recur in the next few days, months, or years, I’ll do my best to get through it. If that broken butterfly can still fly, then why shouldn’t I try to thrive, even under difficult circumstances?

Ms. Newton-John was a beautiful soul with a tender heart. I’m thankful she’s no longer suffering, but I’m also sad she’s no longer with us.

The song, “Have You Never Been Mellow,” recorded by Newton-John in 1975, the year I graduated from high school, reminds me life is precious. It’s worth treasuring and taking time to enjoy. In honor of Olivia Newton-John, I’m going to take her advice to heart and try to remember to take one day at a time.

We will miss you, Olivia, but we’ll never forget you.

Have You Never Been Mellow?

There was a time when I was in a hurry as you are
I was like you
There was a day when I just had to tell my point of view
I was like you
Now I don't mean to make you frown
No, I just want you to slow down

Have you never been mellow?
Have you never tried to find a comfort from inside you?
Have you never been happy just to hear your song?
Have you never let someone else be strong?

Running around as you do with your head up in the clouds
I was like you
Never had time to lay back kick your shoes off, close your eyes
I was like you

Now you're not hard to understand
You need someone to take your hand, hey

Have you never been mellow?
Have you never tried to find a comfort from inside you?
Have you never been happy just to hear your song?
Have you never let someone else be strong?

 

Songwriters: John Clifford Farrar

Staying inside my own Hula Hoop

When I was a young girl, hula hooping was a big craze. I wanted a hula hoop so badly and begged my mother for one. Finally, after much nagging on my part, she gave in and bought me a beautiful red and yellow hoop. I was so proud of it and although I had no idea how to use it, I spent hours trying to figure it out.

Slipping the large, plastic hoop over my head, I worked it down toward my little hips. Holding it on each side, I began to shimmy my body side to side. The hoop circled once or twice before falling to the ground. Frustrated, I tried again and again until finally, I mastered it. From that day forward, I spent hours entertaining myself with that simple ring of joy.

Today, as I think back on that hula hoop, I remember how I felt to be inside it. It was a safe zone. A place where I could be me and do what I enjoyed doing, even if I was only moving side to side. Fast forward to today, I often wish I were inside a hula hoop again, enjoying the simple pleasures of life. But as I’ve grown older and health challenges have become more prevalent, I don’t think there’s a hula hoop big enough to encompass my woes.

And then, I think about those I love who’ve recently been diagnosed with cancer. How desperately I want to offer them advice on how to go forward. I want to save them from learning things the hard way, like I did when I was diagnosed. I think back and wish I’d had someone to give me good advice — any small tidbit of helpful information would have been greatly appreciated, and then I hear my inner child whisper, “Stay inside your own hula hoop.”

We can’t fight anyone else’s cancer battle for them. No matter how hard we try, it’s a very personal journey.

Just like learning to hula hoop, a person with cancer must learn their own technique of balancing whatever comes their way. They don’t necessarily need or want someone to show them how to keep the hoop up.

Occasionally, the newly diagnosed person may ask a seasoned survivor for help and if they do, we should be happy to assist, but otherwise, we should take a hands-off approach. Just because their hoop seems to be slipping doesn’t mean we have to run in and fix it!

Navigating the world of cancer can feel like learning to hula hoop. At first, the hoop falls over and over again, but with practice and determination, things eventually begin to work into a more manageable rhythm. That doesn’t mean it’s easy, and the hoop will definitely fall again, but there’s something inside a person that causes them to pick it up and begin again. That something could be called resilience or fortitude, but I think it’s a balance of both. To keep the hoop in motion, one must be able to recover quickly with courage in the midst of adversity.

Hula hooping is supposed to be fun. Cancer is definitely not. And though I’m currently outside the hoop of cancer, enjoying a life of remission, I know that could change any moment. I don’t take that lightly.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see many hula hoops spinning. They belong to people I care about. Some are spinning slowly and others very quickly. I stand ready to catch the ones about to fall. I want desperately to reach out and assist, but then, I hear that little voice inside my head whisper again, “Stay inside your own hula hoop.” And I do.

My insides are all jacked up

 Since the endoscopy, my insides feel like they've been all jacked up. I can't eat normal sized meals any longer and when I do eat, I have to chew things into tiny little bits before swallowing. The food seems to sit right at the junction of my esophagus and the top of my stomach. It's a nasty feeling and I don't like it. 

My gastroenterologist prescribed some medication to help until we hear back from the biopsy reports. Apparently, he took biopsies along my esophagus wall and from my stomach. With my history of breast cancer and my brother's history of esophageal cancer, to say I'm scared is an understatement. I'm trying not to think about the possibility of a recurrence, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't. 

I don't know what I'd do if the report comes back with evidence of cancer. I guess I'll face that bridge when and if I have to cross it. 

An introspective mood

For some reason today, I've been in an introspective mood. Maybe it's because of the peaceful instrumental music playing on my stereo, or perhaps the delicious steaming cup of raspberry hibiscus tea. It could be the fact that my wedding anniversary is just around the corner. Whatever the cause, as I was in the kitchen this morning unloading dishes, a thought came to mind - "I don't want to miss it." Miss what, I asked myself. And as I thought, I realized I don't want to go through the rest of my life wondering if maybe I missed something. I don't want to overlook the good things God puts in my path. I don't want to take anything for granted. I want to experience joy in the little things. 

I've lived a good life, these past 64 1/2 years. Sure, there have been some difficult seasons and I've had to fight hard to overcome them, but I'm still here. That tells me God still has a plan for my life and my number isn't up until He says so. 

Health issues always seem to knock me down a few pegs and this year, I've been knocked down a lot. It seems Satan knows exactly when and where to launch his missiles of attack. They always catch me off guard, but I don't take it lying down. I always remind myself I'm "more than a conquer through Him that loves me." 

In my China cabinet, I have several tiny treasures to remind me of special moments - dried flowers, my sweet husband picked from a roadside field, a Brazil nut that reminds me of my father, and several bird feathers that remind me of my mother. Those little things mean more to me than a pile of gold. And that's why I don't want to miss a single thing in these next years of life. 

Toward the end of the year, I'll hit a milestone birthday. I'm already trying to decipher Social Security information and it's making me crazy. 

Life seems to be flying by and I'm on the downhill slide. So, in the days ahead, I'm going to make a special point of staying present. I'm not going to let electronics steal my focus. 

I'll stand in awe at the sunrise. I'll take as long as necessary to capture the beauty of a butterfly. I'll listen well and love much. 

I don't want to miss a single solitary thing. I hope you won't either. 

Don't take swallowing for granted

 It's amazing the bodily functions we take for granted until we don't have them. I never thought anything about being able to swallow until I couldn't. It's scary when food gets stuck going down your throat. I don't ever want to go through that again. 

I wasn't expecting to have my esophagus stretched when I went in for the endoscopy, but that's exactly what they did. After I woke up from the anesthesia, it felt like someone had taken a broomstick wrapped with sandpaper and scrubbed my innards - not a good feeling. 

Not being able to talk wasn't fun either. Thankfully, that only lasted a day. Now I can talk and hopefully, I'll be able to eat a full meal. I haven't tried anything solid since the procedure, but my sweet hubby brought home Chinese food tonight and I sure do want some. We will see. 

The older I get, the more I realize my body is wearing out. Things no longer work the way they used to and I don't like it. But what can we do? It's just part of aging. Sure, we can start to replace some things like knees, but other parts can't be replaced. 

I wish I'd taken better care of my body when I was younger. Hopefully, I can encourage my kids and grandkids to start now so they won't have so many health issues when they hit their mid-sixties. 

These shells are temporary. I can't wait for my heavenly body, at least it will be a deluxe edition :)

Can you say Roto-Rooter?

For months I've had trouble swallowing. It started in December and got progressively worse. After several visits to the ER, urgent care, and to the ENT, we thought we'd found a solution. The ENT treated me for a salivary stone, then, after more tests, said I had an auto immune disorder. One frustration let to another as I endured test after test. The last one, a modified barium swallow study, revealed the problem wasn't only in my salivary glands, but also in my esophagus. 

I'd had an upper endoscopy done earlier in the year for severe acid reflux and a hiatal hernia, so I was surprised they wanted to do another, but the swallowing was getting more and more difficult. I wasn't being able to eat normal meals. After a few bites, I felt full and would blow up like a balloon from bloating. I knew something was extremely wrong. 

There had been a follow-up endoscopy scheduled for October, but I knew I couldn't wait that long, so I went into the portal and asked to be put on the waitlist. When they called Friday to offer a Tuesday appointment, I jumped on it. I knew God was in the details because this doctor was always booked up and it was rare to get a spot. If I didn't take it, I'd have to wait until October and by then, I'd have probably choked to death! 

Friday through Sunday, I existed on protein shakes and water. The test wasn't until 2:45 p.m. on Monday, so after midnight Sunday, I was instructed only to have one sip of water with my blood pressure medication. 

All day Monday, I waited and watched the clock. Time moved so slowly. Finally, when it was time to go, hubby and I dashed out the door. We'd calculated how long it would take to get to the hospital in a neighboring town - 45 minutes. 

We made small talk along the way and not long after we'd departed, a concrete mixer pulled in front of us. He was going so slow and there was no way to pass him. 

We poked along behind him for the majority of the way until finally, just a few miles from the hospital, at 2:40 p.m. he turned on a side street and we were able to cruise at a faster pace. 

I was dropped at the front door of the hospital while hubby went to find a parking space. I didn't want my slot to be given away, so I race walked to the elevators and made it to the suite just in time. 

As I sat and waited the waiting room, I was praying. God, please, help them find a vein! Every time I go to a medical office for a blood draw, the staff have trouble. I'm limited to my left hand because of the breast cancer and lymphedema. Those veins are so tiny and crooked it makes it difficult for even a well-trained nurse to find a usable vein. 

About 15 minutes passed and I was called back. As usual, the nurse had trouble. A doctor came over to see if she could help and neither of them could find a good vein. Then, they brought in a vein scanner light. 

The vein scanner lit up my veins and they were finally able to find one. 

After inserting an IV, I was wheeled into the room and the doctor told me what he was going to do. I had no idea he was planning to stretch my esophagus until that very moment! Apparently, the barium swallow study had revealed a stricture that was causing the food to stick in the middle of my throat. 

I was turned on my side and a device was placed in my mouth to hold it open. They strapped on an oxygen cannula and administered the anesthetic. Instantly, I was out. 

When I awoke, I was in the recovery room with the worst sore throat you could imagine. It felt like someone had taken a broomstick, wrapped it in sandpaper, and reamed me out. I asked the nurse if they had something I could drink. I told her I hadn't had anything since 5:00 a.m. and that was just a sip of water. I was surprised when she said no that I could get something after I left. How rude! I'm sure they had a little dixie cup they could have filled with tap water. Heck, I would have even taken water in a urinalysis cup at that point, my mouth was so dry. 

She went over paperwork with me and then the doctor came in. He told me all he'd done. Not only had he stretched my esophagus, but he'd also taken multiple biopsies of my throat and stomach. 

I'll have to wait for 7-10 days to get the results from those tests. In the meantime, I'll be living on liquids and soft foods for the next day or so while my throat heals. 

I'm really scared about a possible recurrence of cancer and since my brother died of esophageal cancer, this worries me even more. 

All I can do is pray and trust God's got this. I'm so tired of going through medical procedures. I just want to feel normal for a change, but what's normal, right? Are any of us really normal? 

A valuable object lesson

This morning, while on the phone with my youngest daughter, I decided I'd get a headstart on dinner. During the summer, I like to make use of my crockpot because it's too hot to stand over the stove and cook. As I was digging through our big chest freezer, I pulled out a package of ground beef. Noticing the date on it, September 2021, I asked if she thought it would still be good. I could tell by the silence on the other end of the phone she was busy Googling an answer. A few minutes later, she responded, "If the meat has been kept at zero or below, it will be fine. What temperature is your freezer set to?" I had no idea. She then asked me to look for the thermostat. Assuming it would be near the top back of the freezer, or along one of the sides, I began moving things around. All of a sudden, I had an avalanche of cold meats falling on my head! I picked them up as quickly as possible and put them all back into place on the top shelf, the shelf I'd designated for meats since it was closest to the vents that blow out the cold air. "I don't think it has one," I said to her. "Yes, it does," she said, "all freezers have a thermostat." 

I was so frustrated. I'd looked in the freezer and couldn't find a thermostat. Since I'm so short, I decided to go into the house and get a stepstool. As soon as I had it in hand, I went back to the freezer to look again. 

Since I'd already checked the top shelf, I moved to the second one. Moving frozen fruits and veggies, I found nothing. My daughter was still on the phone with me and encouraged me to check the door, perhaps there was one there. Nope. Nothing. 

It was cold standing in front of the freezer. I was worried about keeping the door open long since the warm air from the garage would put the food at jeopardy. Closing the door again, I went inside and searched through my appliance manuals until I found the one for the freezer. There was nothing helpful in there! 

My sweet girl asked me for the freezer model number. She was going to look up information on line. I couldn't find anything on the paper manual so I went back to the freezer to see if I could find one. That's when I got the brilliant idea to start at the bottom and work my way up. 

Moving frozen breads around, I looked at the very back of the bottom shelf of the freezer. Nothing! Now I was really getting frustrated! This was a name brand appliance, a good quality item, surely there had to be a serial number inside and surely there had to be a thermostat!

I got down on my knees and started moving things from the next shelf. Frozen Chinese entrees and convenience foods began to tumble into my lap. Holding the cold things, I continued to look. When I'd moved the last item on that shelf, way back in the back right hand corner, I could see a dial! Oh, thank the Lord! I quickly flipped on my cellphone light and shone it on the dial. Sure enough, there was a thermostat! My daughter said, "What's it set on, Mom?" I looked and saw that the dial was set on 4. Yikes! The dial only went up to 9 with 8 and 9 being marked as the coldest range. Turning the dial up to 7.5, I felt better. I wondered why I'd never thought to check the thermostat before? We'd had this appliance for 8 years!

After I'd come inside with my ground beef and slipped it into the microwave for defrosting, some verses of Scripture came to mind: "You search the Scriptures, for in them you think you have everlasting life; and these are they that bear witness about Me. “Yet you do not want to come to Me, that you may have life." John 5:39-40. Why did those verses pop into my head? I guess because I'd been searching for something that was in plain sight. 

I kept thinking about the verses and realized in Bible times, the disciples didn't have the New Testament. All they had was the Old Testament so even though they didn't have the writings telling about Jesus' life and miracles, they knew about the prophesied Messiah. Though Jesus spoke to the common people in parables, He had given His disciples the ability to understand His teachings, but often, they still were baffled at times requiring Him to go into a deeper explanation. Jesus was right there among them and still at times they didn't get it! Wow! Just like the freezer thermostat was there all along, I just didn't see it. 

Jesus doesn't hide himself from us. He wants us to know Him. 

Jeremiah 29:13 says, "You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart." 

The obscure thermostat brought peace of mind when I found it. Knowing I could control the temperature and keep our foods safe for long periods of time was comforting, but even more so was knowing that God used that object lesson to remind me to always keep my eyes fixed on Him. I hope you'll choose to seek Him daily and allow Him to use some of life's little frustrations to remind you that He sees and cares about you, because He really does!

Some days you have to laugh!

 Some days you have to laugh! Especially when the annual email reminders keep coming in telling me to schedule my mammogram. I have nothing to mam! I have called several times and notified the doctor’s office that they can stop sending me these reminders. When they ask why, I remind them I’ve had both breast removed but to no avail. The reminders continue to come.  

I don’t know when they’ll ever get it. In the past, I would be offended when these would come, but now, I can’t do anything but laugh.

I guess it’s a good thing I’ve developed a sense of humor over the years along with a thick hide. It would be so easy to take offense, or wounded and hurt. But what good would that do? It wouldn’t change a thing. Oh well, I guess I’ll continue to get these for the rest of my life. Hopefully one day, they’ll figure it out. By then, it will be too late, lol!

Raspberry Remedy

Today started out with a visit to my primary care physician. For some reason, before I left the house, I became extremely nervous. I don't know why, but lately, I find myself experiencing anxiety in various situations. It's not something I enjoy and though I do my best to talk myself out of it, sometimes I can't. The doctor at the cancer treatment center tells me it's post cancer PTSD. That makes sense. If I think back, I can't remember being extremely overwhelmed in crowds or reacting adversely to loud, unexpected noises - all symptoms of PTSD. 

I haven't driven much lately and that makes me nervous, too. Usually my husband drives me everywhere. It's nice having a personal chauffer, especially on the days when my arms are swollen with fluid from lymphedema, which is always worse in the summer, but I made it there safely by praying and listening to Christian radio. 

When I arrived, there weren't too many people in the waiting room. I was thankful. Everyone had on masks. I was called back quickly and the doctor came in a few minutes later. He did a brief exam, wrote my prescription and I left. On the way home, I took a few deep breaths realizing I'd been holding mine. 

My cell phone was going off with all sorts of notifications. When I looked at it, I found a couple of messages from the patient portal. Opening them, the nurse gave me information on scheduling an upper endoscopy. It seems the gastroenterologist wanted to do another one. That really scared me, especially since my brother died of esophageal cancer that had metastasized. 

I've been having a lot of problems swallowing lately. It seems food gets stuck in my throat so I'm trying to eat smaller portions of soft foods or take in only liquids. 

The only appointment available was in October, which seems so far away, but I took it and asked to be added to the waitlist. Covid has caused many doctors to have limited availability for their patients and those who can't get in usually end up going to urgent care. 

Feeling stressed to the max, I heard a voice calling from the kitchen - it was the raspberry sorbet hubby had recently picked up for me from the grocery store. Should I or shouldn't I? I asked myself the question over and over until, I finally gave in. 

What a nice treat the raspberry was! It seemed to cause me to calm down and relax. Perhaps it was the immediate sugar rush or perhaps it was the cold, I'm not sure which. In any event, I'm thankful it brought a little joy and a little peace to an otherwise stress filled day. 

I did find I had to eat it with a plastic green fork though. The stainless-steel spoon was unbearable and gave me a freezer burn on the roof of my mouth. Ain't nobody got time for that!

Doing whatever is necessary for self care is important, even if others think it's silly. I happen to love raspberry sorbet and think I'll make sure to use this stress relieving remedy often.