Hi folks, I'm back. For a few days, at least.
One minor surgery down, one major surgery to come, but no date is set for that yet, and it doesn't really matter. The doctor in Iowa City called several days ago to say there was no sign of cancer in the biopsy, so it doesn't matter when the surgery to get rid of that fibroid tumor will be. I'm happy.
My mind told me I was well enough to come back to work between surgeries, but I gotta tell you, my body begged disagreement. Still, knowing cancer is not part of the equation made it easier to overlook other aches and pains. And I've heard from so many women who say how well they felt after a hysterectomy, I'm actually looking forward to it. I haven't felt really well in years.
It's difficult to find the words I want, the words to say how amazing, how wonderful it was to hear from so many people when I was gone. Every day more cards and letters - many from people I don't even know.
That kind of love can mend a broken heart, let alone a tired, old body.
And each card came with a note that I was in that person's thoughts and prayers. The prayers overwhelmed me, and I'm sure all those prayers on my behalf helped take away the severe pain I felt at the beginning of this odyssey, leaving me with dull aches and pains that can be overlooked if I set my mind to it.
Many people talk about the power of prayer, and as a believer, I've seen it happen. I've just never felt it happen on my behalf. I've never thought to ask people to pray for me. In fact, it's extremely difficult to ask anyone to do anything for me, especially something as emotionally involved as praying.
But that has changed. Hearing from so many people has driven home the fact that asking for help, whether moving boxes or saying prayers, makes them happy. People like to help. They like to do something that makes others feel better. And from now on, I'll like to let them.
Hmmm, I wonder if I could sneak those basement boxes into this offer of help. I'd try, but doggone it, I'd have to dig around in them, too, and that sounds like work.
I've got a faux diamond crown I wear occasionally - like when anyone stops to visit - so I could wear that and sit in a chair and watch others work. I'd thought about doing that when my daughter was here from Denver, but we had too much fun playing to drag ourselves into the basement to work.
She started a charcoal drawing for my sister, and while she did that, I started carving a stylistic horse. You can tell it's a horse from the beginning cuts, but since Dana's gone, I don't feel creative enough to continue. She brings out the best in me, makes me feel like I can do anything.
That's how the cards and letters made me feel - like getting well was the easiest work in the world.
I thank you for that.
So long friends, until the next time when we're together.
Contact Sandy Mickelson at (515) 573-2141 or firstname.lastname@example.org