You got a lot of living left to do...

This week I went to the doctor to follow up on my hearing test and I learned that while some hearing has come back, I still have the problem that my eustachian tube is blocked, I guess that's why I feel like I have a cotton ball stuffed in my hear blocking my hearing still.

The doctor's "prescribed" me to pop my ears several times an hour to try to force it open.  

In the month that it has been since I had this happen I'm learning to adapt and live with only hearing certain things and by having to ask "what's that?" over and over.  And actually I find myself listening even more attentively that I did previously because it takes just that much more concentration to focus on what's being said.

In thinking about this, sometimes I feel sad.  I don't sing anymore because my hearing has changed so much it's like when you have a cold and you can hear everything you say extra loud in your head?  That's how I feel all the time, so singing... it makes me realize just how bad of a singer I am.  

And I realized I miss out on a lot of the stuff my kids say when they are passing by not directly looking at me when they talk.  I guess I say "Huh?" so much that they've gotten to just saying, "Never mind mom."  Instead of actually answering.  Maybe that's good, maybe its not.

As I was thinking about this loss of hearing, I was taken back to just a few months in my life when things were hard, horrible, not good in so many ways.  I had been doctoring for some things I was extremely afraid of and I just happened tonight to be looking back at some pictures and I found these.  I had taken them when I was at Mayo waiting for a CT scan with IV contrast to see if I had what the doctor cautioned me they were checking for... the C word. 

I remember sitting in the room waiting for them to come get me and I felt pretty down.  I thought in my mind, how do I get through this one.  How do I try to put on a brave face and move forward if this is what they are concerned about?

I remember taking the pictures and negotiating with God that I really didn't want this to be that.  I remember feeling angry and wanted to remember this moment because I felt like it was again another fork in the road.  

I stared at the floor of the waiting room and I allowed my mind to wander.  Most of the time my mind wanders to the worst case scenario... I think its so I can come up with a plan and figure out how to solve it, just in case we need to.  

Soon they called me back, the test was quick, painless, except for that feeling when they inject the contrast and I swear I peed my pants.  They told me I would feel that way and that I wouldn't actually do that, but I was convinced they were wrong.  Thankfully, I was wrong and it was just the silly sensation. 

When I was finished I was seated in another waiting room and they gave me some snacks.  A kind older gentleman, who of course was from Iowa too, sat down next to me after his scan.  He said, "I sure hope you're here for good news."  I joked, I hope we both are.  

We talked about the crackers, how the graham ones were the best.  He asked me about my family, told him I had 4 kiddos at home.  He looked at me like I was crazy.  Said, "you're too young to be here for one of these tests.  I don't want to see you back the next time I'm here.

I've lived a long life" he continued, "You still have a lot of living left to do." 

After he said that the nurse came in and told me I was okay to go.  I wished him well and as I left the room he said, "You go live a great life young lady!"  I smiled and headed toward the lobby.

As I walked outside I looked up at the sky and the pretty clouds.

Something about the breeze that day, the fear in my heart and the all-knowing in my brain that what had just been done could change the course of my life.

I walked away and heard the man's words over in my mind.  "You got a lot of living left to do young lady."  

I'm trying to be more mindful in finding things in my life that bring peace, cause less pain and bring moments of pure happiness.  As I left the clinic, I still had the fear in waiting to hear the results, but I felt peace.  I tried to soak up the beauty, the gentleness in the breeze and I tried to soak up the moment.

The next day I got an email that said my test results were posted by my doctor in the online portal.  As soon as I saw it I logged on.  The pit in my stomach sank and grew.  I could feel the anxiety, the dread, the true fear as I put in my name and password.  I clicked on the message from her and read it.

"Angela your test came back clear.  No signs of lymphoma. Repeat blood work in 6 weeks."  

RELIEF.  

PURE Relief.

I thought back to the gentleman in the waiting room we shared together for a few moments.  I wondered what his report from his doctor was like.  I pray good.  

"You got a lot of living left to do young lady"

I logged out of my computer and hear Madelyn yelling "Momma" from around the corner.  She had been eating blueberries and when I turned to see her, I found the blueberries spilled all over the floor and that her water had been dumped down her shirt.  

You got a lot of living left to do young lady.- I told myself.  

While these days I can't hear as good as I used to, I still hear that man's voice in my head.

Just a few months ago, I didn't know how I'd feel going forward when life had been so hard.  And while those hard days still come and take my breath away, I try to remember the wise words shared by a stranger.

"Yes I guess I do have a lot of living left to do.

So that's what I'm trying to do, even if I say, "Huh?" a lot more now.

Until next time,

Angie