Sheila E. / Mona Lisa Music Video
Thank you, Sarah, for sending me this link to the video of the song you guys sang last Sunday. Beautiful.
Perfectly timed as I begin my radiation treatments first thing in the morning
. . . as He carries me through the darkness.
Co-Written by Kris Stipech & John Barnett. Shot and edited by Cameron Ingalls. Produced by lrbaggs.com.
It was probably the funnest, most wonderful birthday I’ve ever had. When I stepped out the door to join the others (my husband, son, and my dad) at the van, I saw that my first rose had just bloomed. A happy birthday wish from my new garden. The day got better and better from there.
As I sang along with the Christmas albums we brought (a tradition we began several years ago of commencing our family celebrations of the festive season on my b-day), starting off with the Nylons, as we stopped at the Copenhagen House in Solvang for the special present my husband was giving me – a silver Pandora® bracelet and my first charm, while we drove over the San Marcos Pass singing along with Harry Connick, Jr. at the tops of our voices, as I felt tears coming to my eyes, as I smiled and was filled with gratefulness to be able to sing this year, remembering how I couldn’t last Christmas, as we relished a delicious early dinner at the Savoy Cafe in Santa Barbara and then headed over the the Santa Barbara Orchid Estate, hoping to get through the gates before they closed for the day, as my dad and I walked the flower-lined paths of Alice Keck Park, while Kevin and Jaremy climbed and parkoured their way around Children’s World, as we stopped at Lazy Acres to pick up desserts and our café mochas (or chai lattes, or lemonade, whichever the case may be), and as we sat by the seaside, listening to the waves, to Yo Yo Ma’s Songs Of joy And Peace, I was blissfully unaware that my oncologist had been trying to get a hold of us several times during the day.
Somehow my husband missed the first call just after 9 am. We were gone by the time the second call came in, and he didn’t hear Dr. Spillane’s call to his cell phone during the afternoon. So, what do you think – do you think it’s possible that the Creator of this amazing world of ours purposely kept me from learning this past Friday’s test results, that He cared about my having a happy birthday and that He made sure I didn’t find out about them until the day was at an end?
I had such a wonderful, special, fun, memorable, carefree, beautiful day.
When I got home, I remembered I needed to check the answering machine because I was expecting to have received a call from one of my nurses about what time she was going to come the next day. Instead of my nurse’s voice, I heard Dr. Spillane saying, “…Give me a call back.”
I wondered, “Um, what was that about?”
A second message.
Kevin checked his voicemail. Another message.
I didn’t sleep so well that night.
The next day, I tried to call back, contact his medical assistant, but had to leave a message. So, I asked my husband to pop over my doctor’s office and see about talking with them. He did, and then I found myself talking with him and Dr. Spillane over speaker phone about my test results.
Apparently there’s a Part Two to this journey.
I had my uncertainties about the CT scan of my torso, but because of the results of my last MRI, I thought that all my concerns about cancer in my head were over.
Nope. Not over.
The CT scans looked good, but the MRI showed the presence of numerous tiny lesions throughout my brain. Too many to count.
That blow certainly came out of left field.
Today, my husband and I found ourselves at the San Luis Radiation Oncology Medical Center, sitting in an examination room, waiting for my radiologist to talk with us about my treatment plan, answer our questions.
Three weeks of daily low-dose whole-brain radiation sessions.
Cheeze. And my hair is just reaching a length that’s starting to look like an actual style. Ugh. I know, super important. But I have to admit, it was one of the first-ish thoughts that came to mind. :o)
Back to thinking about how awesome my special day was, how my family helped me celebrate, how much fun we had together.
And thank you for all your prayers that I know you’ll be sending up on my behalf. I love that, and am so grateful to you. I know I am so loved.
Found this this morning. So fun . . . and couldn’t be more true.
Can’t quite completely explain why, but for most of this past year, I’ve just wanted to be quiet. Hardly listened to music — except when I was in the car driving with my family, or when my son had his YouTube favourites playing. Haven’t danced much, either. It’s kind of a mystery to me since music and dancing have always been such an important part of my life. ‘Course to be fair to myself, it was a couple of months after I got out of the hospital last December before I could even stand for more than a few minutes. On oxygen 24/7 until well into January. Had a wheelchair with us for a few months when we went out. Just being able to go for a walk of any distance has been a reason to celebrate.
Somehow during the last couple of weeks, though, I started turning on the CD player when I was bouncing on my mini trampoline. (Rebounding is great for the lymph system, by the way.) We haven’t tried to play any CDs for quite a while because they were skipping a lot, but my husband decided to turn on the player at the beginning of said last couple of weeks. It actually worked. So, the next day I put on a french album we picked up at the Santa Barbara Zoo ages ago. Gently and sweetly, that part of me has been reignited. Yes, sweet to be sure.
When the player completely conked out a few days ago, I, without hesitation, headed to Amazon to find me a new, improved model. Meanwhile, I’ve been getting caught up with current pop hits on my phone with Amazon Prime Music and making up for lost time.
Crank the tunes! And dance!