Friday, August 21, 2009

Plans Plans Plans, but first ...

Kids 1, 2, and 3 go back to school Monday. If all goes well, then kid 4 goes back to her two-day school on Tuesday. And Wednesday, I go to my school. Daytime classes! How exciting!

But, I do have to put the caveat of "if all goes well," in there. Because what is also happening, what I carefully put away in a little box on the top shelf because I had a memorial service to officiate, is that on Monday, whilst The Husband is getting the first three all set up in their classes, Little Warrior and I will be down at the hospital. It's scan time.

You know how sometimes, everything just seems to be flowing? Like your boat is on a river with no rocks, no sandbars. Like you're headed in the right way. You use your muscles to paddle, and the effort is rewarded.

I'm there. I'm in the river. I'm impatient, sure. I began seminary 5 years ago. I've reached the point of C'MON ALREADY, LET'S GET THIS SHOW ON THE ROAD.

I still haven't had my first ministerial interview. First, because my church didn't have a minister, then ... well, Cancer Part I. Much later, I had an appointment set up for the ministerial interview. I also had an appointment set up for the field rep interview. And then ... the phone call. That there was a little dark spot on the scan. Cancer Part II.

Rabbi Shaman has recommended that I be interviewed by a local minister. There's one whom I've been dying to meet. I plan on calling her to see if she can fit me in.

But I wait until after Monday.

I'm all set up for classes. Paid the tuition, bought the books, read much of them already. But my cautionary mind says, well, the timing is good. If there's Something, you should find out before Wednesday, so you should be able to get a tuition refund.

No sandbars, please. No rocks. Because right now, I can only think of it in terms of another slowing of the journey.

I avoid thinking of what it would mean in the larger picture. I've cried too many tears and suffered too much heartbreak, allowing my mind to wander into horrible scenarios. I've lived enough horror. There is no need to manufacture more nightmares. And I've learned that there is no way to prepare for the worst.

I can see the path unfolding before me. Step, step, step. Phone call, an interview, print the forms, set up the assessment, schedule the RSCC.

Hopefully, achieve candidate status.

Monday, 8 am.


A Conversation in a Guns 'N Roses song. (What, you think God only talks through Handel?)

Shed a tear 'cause I'm missing you
I'm still alright to smile
Girl, I think about you every day now

Was a time when I wasn't sure
But you set my mind at ease
There is no doubt you're in my heart now

Sad woman take it slow
It'll work itself out fine
All we need is just a little patience
Said sugar make it slow
And we'll come together fine
All we need is just a little patience


Sit here on the stairs
'Cause I'd rather be alone

If I can't have you right now, I'll wait dear

Sometimes, I get so tense
But I can't speed up the time

But you know, love, there's one more thing to consider
Sad woman take it slow
Things will be just fine
You and I'll just use a little patience
Said sugar take the time
'Cause the lights are shining bright
You and I've got what it takes to make it

Need a little patience, yeah
Just a little patience, yeah

I've been walking these streets at night
Just trying to get it right
It's hard to see with so many around
You know I don't like being stuck in a crowd
And the streets don't change but maybe the name
I ain't got time for the game
'Cause I need you

God: (Just a little patience)

LE: Yeah, yeah well I need you
Oh, I need you

God: (Take some patience)

LE: Whoa, I need you

God: (Just a little patience is all we need)

LE: All this time....


RoadieRyan said...

Oh, scanxiety. How I hate it - for me, for you, for all of us. There are no words to describe it to someone who hasn't been through it, and I can only imagine a mother's perspective of it. Wishing, hoping, praying that the scans will be boring. I LOVE boring scans.

Kristina said...

Oops - this is Kristina, and my husband (Ryan the road cyclist) has been using my computer! That last comment was from me.