Football Games Offer More Than Just Football

I don’t like football.  For me, any sport that has an ambulance waiting nearby cannot be good.  As the team’s finest line up face to face on the battlefield, the crowd roars in anticipation of the assault.  Someone yells, the ball is snapped, and everyone goes into action.  Most of the time the activity will be very short-lived, ending in a pile of different colored uniforms on the ground. 

However, every once in a while a player will break free and run. The crowd stands screaming out instructions as if their voice was the only one that could be heard.  The band plays, the cheerleaders cheer, and the dance team members add their talents to the excitement. Everyone on the field runs in pursuit of someone's son whose only crime is that he is carrying a ball.  Those wearing uniforms different than his own will not be content until he has been thrown to the ground and tackled.

Men in striped shirts race over and make a call.  If they are able, the players will get to their feet and repeat the process until the clock, which seems to start and stop for no reason, says that the game is now half over. 

At halftime the announcer reminds of us the score and the crowd stands and cheers as the players, even those who have stood on the sidelines, run from the field as if they had just been declared the victors, returning just a few minuets later to complete the dance.  It was a good game if the umpire’s name was not taken in vain, no one left the field on a stretcher, and the police were not called in to break up a fight.

Football.  For many it is a sport.  For others it is a passion.  Fans wear their team colors with pride and can tell you the facts, flaws, and future of each member of their team, including the coaches.  They stand around water coolers, boardrooms, and parking lots discussing the latest victory or defeat.  Armchair quarterbacks with answers to even the most difficult questions of strategy.

I have watched this phenomenon for years from a distance.  I was convinced that I would NEVER be able to enjoy a football game.  Between the violence, noise and my confusion over the rules of the game, sitting in the stands and having a good time was something that I thought would never happen to me…I was wrong. 

Last night my family and I attended the Northwest Rankin vs. Clinton High School football game.  My son, Phillip, plays the tenor drums for the Northwest band and his sisters had made a weekend return to see their brother march.  The stands were tightly packed, but we managed to find a seat.  As the game began, my attention was drawn from the field. 

I could not help but notice that there was much more than a football game going on this Friday evening.  The game of life was also being played.  There were shouts and cheers from the crowd mingled with conversations.  Men discuss the strategies of the game.  Friends who hadn’t seen each other for a while were updating one another on the changes in their lives.  Children could be heard begging for money to visit the concession stand as a parade of people walking by shout hellos to their friends in the stands. 

There were families enjoying an evening out together. An elderly man helped his wife maneuver the climb up the bleachers; you just know that they have done this before.  The young children dressed as football players or cheerleaders. School logos were being worn on everything to show the spirit and pride of the team. 

Love was in the air as young couples walked arm in arm and stole kisses when they thought that no one was watching.  Younger children felt much older and more popular being seen at a high school football game.  Some played while others tried to imitate the behavior of the teenagers. 

Parents slapped hands in mid air to celebrate the accomplishments of their boys on the field, and babies enjoyed the outdoors with so many people to amuse them.  Parents, who had given freely of their time and money, watched their children with pride as they played, danced, cheered, and preformed. 

I learned something Friday night.  Football games are more than just two teams struggling for victory.  Football games are about family, friends, and spirit.  It is a time to renew friendships, support your children, and have that common bond that comes from yelling your lungs out in a victory cry.

While I am still not happy about the number of injuries to our young athletes I have soften my opinion about football.  Although you will probably not see me dressed in the colors of my favorite school or buying season tickets, I must confess I do get it.  I understand why a Friday night football game may offer just a bit more than football.  I love supporting the band, cheerleaders, dance team, and football players. So who knows, maybe on day I will go to a football game and actually like it…nah

AM I the Only One Who Is Afraid To See Passion Of The Christ?

When I was about twelve years old I found myself in a love/hate relationship with a daytime television show. It was called Dark Shadows.  Every afternoon after school, my brother and I would turn on the

television to be scared to death. The show always began with eerie music and scenes of the cast. Barnabas, who was a vampire, was the star. Of course, the cast had no idea about his well-guarded secret.

Barnabas was in love with a woman name Angelique. She had died hundreds of years before, but his love for her never died. We watched in horror as Barnabas planned to woo a woman who looked amazingly like Angelique. He planned to bite her on the neck so that she too would become a vampire. The scenario was always the same. Barnabas would invite his unsuspecting victim over to his house or some other place so that they could be alone.

We wanted to warn her. We tried yelling at the television set, "Don’t go in there! He’s a vampire! Stay away!" But of course she could not hear us. As the suspense grew, the music changed in order to reflect the new, intense mood of the plot. I found myself squirming in my seat. I just couldn't SIT THERE and watch this poor woman be bitten by a vampire! So, I did what every red blooded American kid would do…I RAN!

Leaving the room really didn’t help. I wasn’t able to make myself go very far, just barely out of the room; out of the view of the television set.  I could still tell something was going on. That music! I will never forget

that music! I peaked around the corner so that I could see. Fridays were especially frightening. I wanted to see, and yet I did not want to see.  My brother, a year younger than I, thought my behavior was down right

stupid. He just didn’t understand! If I watched the show from around the corner I was well prepared to run if anything really bad started to happen. Week after week, Angelique somehow escaped the bite of the

vampire. Whew! I get chills just thinking about it!

Okay, you’re laughing at me. I can hear you from here. I’ll just bet you have a movie, or TV show story of your own to tell. When we sit before the screen and watch as a well told story unfolds; we are drawn into it as if we were there. Our intellect tells us that it is all just a show, actors portraying parts, lines memorized, a story acted out with makeup and wardrobe worn. However, if our hearts become involved we loose all sense of reality. The story can bring tears to our eyes, cause our blood to boil, or make us cheer out loud.  

Somehow, we allow ourselves to be lost in the story. Transported to another time and place, we connect with the characters and share the experience as if we were there ourselves. It is that deep emotional connection that keeps us coming back for more. We watch TV, and attend movies to be frightened, amazed, inspired, made to laugh, and cry all at the same time. It is a fantasy world in which the good guys always win and  problems can be solved in just a couple of hours. 

As we leave the theater and step out into the fresh air, reality returns and reminds us that it was "just a movie." Now, that is how movies are supposed to be.  Mel Gibson has produced a movie that is more frightening for me than any episode of Dark Shadows. It is more moving and more powerful than any movie I have ever seen. I have not seen the movie yet, but I have seen the previews and they scare me to death! Why? Because when I step out into the fresh air afterwards, reality will not comfort me with its’ normal, "It’s just a movie." No, on the contrary, reality will hit me square in the face and remind me that this story is REAL!   

The cruelties, the injustices, the love, the hate, the struggle, death and resurrection actually happened. Not only will I have to face the fact that these things happened; I will also have to accept my role in this story.

This time I am not a mere bystander. I am as much a part of this story as any character on the screen. I am the reason these terrible things happened to an innocent man. I am the reason that Jesus was beaten, spit

upon, and mocked. I am the reason that he suffered and died on the cross. ME! He suffered and died for me!

Entertainment, not hardly. This movie is a look into a reality that few of us have ever dared to take. It is not the purified version of Christ on the cross with a few well-placed trickles of blood running down his face. It is not the modern civilized version of what a scourging and crucifixion looks like. It is the raw, uncensored look at what Jesus experienced. It is cruel, harsh, powerful, dramatic, and moving. Can I handle the truth? Can I really see for the first time what my sin cost the Son of God? Can I live with myself knowing His blood rests on my shoulders, my head? I don’t know. 

I do know this: I am going to see this movie; and when I do, I won’t be able to run. I won’t be able to hide from the truth. I won’t be able to yell at the screen. All I can do is sit there and watch as an innocent man suffers and dies for me. Frankly, the thought scares me to death!

Are You a Good Witch or a Bad Witch?

Don't you just love the movie The Wizard of OZ? I was so excited to know that it was being shown again. I was taught many life lessons huddled behind my pillow as I watched Dorothy trying to find her way home. I learned that the right shoes really make a difference, that strangers become friends through adversity, and that the answers to our struggles are always closer than we think.

           

I also learned the value of having someone watch over me; a good witch or fairy godmother, if you will. Someone who would appear whenever I needed her, wave her magic wand and make all of my troubles disappear.  She would have all the answers, believe in me, and want only the best for me. But good witches and fairy godmothers don't exist in the real world do they?  Perhaps they do.

             

Have you ever reached down and given a hand to someone who is struggling?  Have you ever shared life experience with someone younger, or taken an interest in someone who shares your dreams but is just embarking upon their journey?  Have you ever done a good deed just because it was the right thing to do?  If you have answered yes to any of these questions, then you my friend are a fairy godmother, a good witch, a mentor.

In this world we may call you by a different name, but the impact of your selfless deeds are still the same.  You have given of yourself to improve the life of another.  By your actions you have made the world a better place just by sharing what you had no matter how small or insignificant this act might have seemed at the time.  No matter who we are or where we have come from, we all have something to offer.  It may be as simple as an encouraging word or a smile or as complex as the answer to an overwhelming problem.

           

In the movie Glenda, the good witch, appeared as Dorothy stood crying and struggling to reach the balloon basket that had just left without her.  Dorothy believed that she had missed her only opportunity to go home. She was crying because she had struggled for so long, worked so hard, and now all of her hard work seemed to be floating away in a balloon. However, Glenda was not upset. You see, Glenda knew that Dorothy did not need to kill the witch or take the broom in order to go home. She knew that Dorothy did not need to make that long difficult journey to Oz dragging three strange companions and a dog along with her. She also knew that Dorothy had always had the power to go home. So why didn't she just tell her that and save us all a lot of trouble? It was not enough for Glenda to know it; Dorothy had to know it, too.

          

That is what being a mentor is all about…encouraging others to reach for their dreams…knowing when to step in or when to allow us to struggle through the problem… understanding that some things must be learned by experience and cannot be told…believing in us, wiping away our tears, and loving us even when we are unlovable…helping us see the potential that lies inside of all of us and caring enough to take to time to do it.

When Dorothy finally clicked her heels and went home, she was not the same person who dropped a house on a witch. She appreciated what she had all along and also understood the power of believing in herself. She realized that no matter how many storms she endured, enemies she defeated, or challenges she might face, it was the people she loved that were most important.  She also realized the value of a friend and mentor.  She was forever changed by the lessons that Glenda taught her during her journey.

  

 I must confess that I too have been very blessed with a good witch, a mentor.  Her name is Marcia Oden, and she has done more for me than I could possibly put down on paper.  She has given me the courage to make my journey over the rainbow and pursue my dreams.  I am grateful for her encouragement.

        

Dorothy and I would like to thank all of you good witches out there. Without you our dreams would still be waiting.  We would still be standing on the farm gazing at the sky wondering what was over the rainbow.  Your love and encouragement makes our journey possible.

       

May we not only be inspired to follow our dreams, but may we strive to mentors as well.  Then the next time that we drop a house on someone and a woman comes to us and says, “Are you a good witch or a bad witch?”  We can proudly answer, “I’m a good witch, I’m a mentor!         

Why We Do What We Do!

On any given day we make hundreds of decisions.  It actually begins before we get out of bed.  As we make our way through the day some decisions will be rote, routine.  Other decisions, while important, will not be life changing.  And of course there are those truly critical decisions that can change the course of our lives forever. 

Have you ever given much thought as to WHY we do what we do?  Well, I have.  While I am NOT a physiologists, scientist or expert of any kind on the subject, I do have some thoughts.  (You are shocked, right?) 

           

I believe that we make decisions using three criteria.  First, personal preference….whether WE like something or not.  This factor comes in handy when trying to decide what to eat, or wear, or what movie to see.  However, personal preference is not always the best tool to use for every decision.   Sometimes the most difficult thing to understand is how someone would NOT love what we love!

Just because we love something does not mean that everyone else will.  Such a simple concept and yet we all struggle with it.  How many of us have enrolled our children into something they did not want to do because it sounded great to us?  We are convinced that once they try it they will like it…but did they?  Just ask my girls about Girl Scouts.  I loved it!  They hated it!  Go figure!

The next criteria is our belief system, our personal views.  As a Christian I have a clearly defined set of rights and wrongs that guide me in my decision making process.  However, II Tim 2:15 reminds us that we must “rightly divide the word of truth.”  As our understanding of scripture increases our view of right and wrong may also change. 

Take women’s clothing for example.  There was a time that a woman without a hat was considered scandalous! How many hats did you see this Sunday?  Pants were also an issue.  Just a few years ago women were strictly forbidden to wear pants to church.  Today jeans are seen on many church pews.  What once was considered morally wrong in the 1950’s seemed silly in the 1990’s and beyond.  What’s my point? 

While the Bible never changes, our understanding and beliefs may change.  Realizing that we are all on a growth journey may allow us to have better peace with our own decisions and those of others.  Of course I am not referring to the core beliefs, but those some refer to as “matters of opinion.” 

The last criteria in our decision making process is what I believe to be the most critical; information.  How many of us have made a decision only to look back with regret and think…if I had only known that!  While we laugh as the man on the commercial slaps his forehead and proclaims, “I could’a had a V8!” it’s not nearly as funny when it happens to us. 

Have you ever voted for a politician purely based on commercials?  Made a major purchase solely based on the salesperson’s eloquent pitch?  Bought food at the grocery because the box made wonderful claims you later learned were marketing hype?  Assumed that something was going to happen just because “it always has” and then it didn’t?  Have you ever made a snap judgment on emotions, not facts?  I think we all have.  But I believe that taking that extra effort to do the research can make the difference between long term regret and soaring success. 

I began by asking if you had ever given any though as to why we do what we do.  It wasn’t a mere conversation starter.  I believe that understanding why we make the decisions that we do can greatly increase our ability to make good ones. 

So, let’s give it a try.  You have a decision to make.  No, I’m not talking about buying shoes or ordering breakfast.  I mean a REAL decision.  First, ask yourself, what do I like?  In a perfect world if I could have anything I wanted, what would I choose?  Next, ask yourself is this biblically right, morally right and fair to others?  How will my decision affect those involved?  If those two answers are in agreement, move onto the last and most important question of all. 

What are the facts?  Do I know enough to make this decision?  Taking that extra effort to do the research may change everything.  Once you fully understand your options and outcomes, then you are ready to make a well informed decision. 

Yes, we make hundreds of decisions everyday.  Some are mundane and routine, others life changing.  However, understanding why we do what we do can make all the difference!  So, the next time you need to choose, ask yourself, why I am doing this…then smile and think of me.  J 

That’s what I think…so what do YOU think?  

Be STILL and Know That I Am God

When I was a child one of my favorite cartoons was The Jetsons. The show began with a catchy theme song accompanied by pictures of the life that the Jetson’s lived. As they sang, "Meet George Jetson… daughter Judy… Jane his wife… his boy Elroy…" we saw glimpses of what life would be like living in the distant future.
Beds folded up in the middle and spit out the occupant, food rolled out of a machine in the wall, hot and ready to eat, space cars zoomed in out of midair traffic jams, and a robot named Rosie completed all the household chores, such as they were.
There was the loveable oversized dog, Astro, who "talked" in a barking kind of way. Every morning, Astro had to be taken for a walk. Of course in this futurist world one would not simply take his dog to the park, he would walk on a treadmill right outside his apartment. High above the city, man and dog took their morning walk, and the results were always the same.
The treadmill would somehow spurt into a ridiculous speed that was impossible for George to keep up with. So, at the beginning of each episode there he was, dangling off the end of the treadmill, high in the air holding on the dog’s leash screaming for Jane to rescue him. The dog of course was trotting merrily along and we somehow found humor in the fact that not only was Astro enjoying his run, he was taking pleasure in the fact that George was NOT enjoying the trip.
One was left to wonder why George didn’t learn from his mistakes and change his routine to prevent this seemingly life threatening experience. Someone once said that doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results is the definition of insanity. That may be true. However, I must confess that there have been many times in my life that I have been George; repeating a process and praying for a different result.
Modern technology has changed our lives. Hanging laundry on the line, washing dishes by hand, or spending a full day preparing a meal are now things of the past - parts of the story of our grandmothers.  Our stories are tales of hurry. Like George; we take on more than we can handle, and wonder why we find ourselves simply holding on for dear life.  The sad part is we are all on the same treadmill... but, there is no "Jane’s" to rescue us.
Is this lifestyle good for us?  Doctors have now determined that women who are always in a hurry suffer from depression and health issues many times more than their non hurried counterparts. One cannot live in crisis mode 24/7 and not burn out. But we already knew that, right?  Is there an answer?  Are we, the women of the new millennium, doomed to a life of treadmill experiences? I don’t think so.
I believe that key to having a full yet non-overwhelming life rests in our hands. If we are the captains of our own ships, then we need to grab the wheel and steer!
Psalms 46:10 shares a powerful message to all of us. It says, "Be still and know that I am God." I must confess that I do fairly well with the second part of this verse. I am fully aware of God and his magnificent power. However, it is the first part of the verse that I truly struggle to achieve. "Be still." What does it mean? 
I believe that each of us needs time to reflect on God’s glory and realize that we are not the movers of the universe. The world will NOT stop turning if we took some time off.  The things that we were killing ourselves to do would either be accomplished, or maybe done without. Either way, it would be okay.
Now, I can hear the collective gasps of all of you type A personalities out there. To somehow suggest that life would be okay without our list and schedules is nothing short of blasphemy! However, before you get the tar and feathers, let me explain. In 1999 I was diagnosed with breast cancer. For a full year my life revolved around survival. All of the things that I had spent years doing now fell to my children and my husband. Guess what? They did okay.
That’s not to say that they did it the way that I would have done it, but it got done. Oh, there were a few things left undone, but that was okay, too. Through that trial I learned to let go. I learned that the ones that I love need me very much, but they are stronger, more resilient that I ever imagined. I learned that if I needed to take time for me it is okay, they will be fine.
All of us need to be still. It is not something that we do very well, but it could be the difference between making it to the finish line and collapsing along the way. We must allow, no…demand time for ourselves. Those whom we love need us and love us, but they do not always realize the sacrifices we make just being wives, mothers, daughters, sisters, and friends.
It is imperative that we find a way to find quiet time with God. This accomplishes two things. First, we can relax and realize that we are not in control, God is. He is the master of our lives and He will take care of everything. Second, it renews our strength. Sound familiar? For some of this the goal of being still can be accomplished on a day to day basis. We find time to study the Bible and pray. For others, our life’s demands are such that the only way to spend time with God is to get away from our obligations for a brief period of time.
A retreat can be a wonderful way to accomplish some still time with God. Although the time will be short, the benefits can last much longer. For a few brief hours we are not "in charge." Our focus is not on doing, but rather on being; being a child of God, being aware of His blessings, being renewed and restored. In other words…”Being still and knowing that He is God.”
George Jetson may have been funny to watch as he struggled to keep up on the treadmill of life. However, a woman struggling for footing is anything but humorous. “Be still and know that I am God.”… Not just a verse, a life’s mission.

Relay For Life- a Cause Worth Supporting

In October of 1999, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.  Just three months earlier my mammogram had been clear.  Now the cancer was almost the size of the palm of my hand.  Four centimeters by four centimeters, it was a monster.  I kept replaying in my mind over and over the commercial I had seen about breast cancer.  You know the one where they show a blueberry and tell you if your cancer is this size you have a chance.  Then they roll out a raspberry and say, “Don’t wait until it gets this big.” 

As fruits go I suppose my cancer had to have been a small plumb.  Afraid?  You bet I was.  Terrified is more like it.  I was forty-three years old and in no way was I prepared to die.  My phone never stopped ringing.  Friends and loved ones came out of the woodwork to say that they loved me and to offer their help.  Eventually though, they all ended with the same question; what are you going to do? 

           

I feared that question almost as much as I feared the cancer itself.  I wanted to scream, “Let me go to medical school and I will get back to you in about six years!”  Of course, I did not have that kind of time.  Actually, I didn’t have any time at all.  As aggressive as my cancer was, I needed to do something and fast!  There were so many choices, so much information, and as many opinions as there were people in my life to have them.  I needed to make the most difficult decision of my life, and I was almost too overwhelmed to even process the questions.

           

For the next ten months, my life would have one purpose and one purpose only: to survive.   Six months of chemo, surgery, and six weeks of radiation treatment wrapped themselves around my day to day existence.  At every holiday or special event in my life, I was painfully aware that it could be my last. 

Throughout my cancer treatment, I made friends with other cancer patients, some of who lost their battle with this monster.  It would also hit very close to home. My sweet mother would pass away with pancreatic cancer in 2008, and my first cousin, Sandy, died of breast cancer years before.  In each case I grieved their deaths, but I also found myself wondering why I was here, and they were gone.  Of course, there is no answer for that question, but sometimes I find myself asking it just the same. 

However, my experience with breast cancer was not all bad.  I learned more about myself that year than anytime past or present.  I realized just how much I was loved.   I found strength and courage inside of me that I never knew existed.  I also learned that when you’re in trouble, there are people out there who really care and are concerned about you regardless of whether you are a friend or a stranger.

 I know that this may sound strange, but I am grateful for my journey though cancer.  You see, it was a real growing experience for me.  I no longer get upset about the small stuff.  I appreciate my family much more, and I am thankful for every day that the Lord gives me.  I am grateful for the experience, but I would not want to repeat it… of course, therein lies the problem. 

There is a deep dark secret that many cancer survivors must hide.  It is the fear that the cancer will return.  It is not something that you talk about, but it is there.  Since we do not fully understand what causes cancer, prevention is quite difficult.  A healthy lifestyle may help, but even athletes can fall prey to this monster.  Once you have experienced cancer, you are painfully aware that it could happen again.

In 2007 I was diagnosed with Follicular Lymphoma.  This cancer is slow-growing and not very aggressive.  It is also non-curable.  I have undergone yet another round of chemo and still have a port in my chest wall.  I will be monitored for the rest of my life and will repeat chemo treatments if the cancer returns.    

Why am I telling you all of this?  Do I want your pity, or your sympathy?  Certainly not!  I am telling you because there is something that YOU can do to help.  Every year The American Cancer Society will holds Relay For Life events.  While each community may offer different entertainment, or decorations, the goal is always the same.

Typically there is a reception for all cancer survivors, and a special place where survivors can meet and share stories and encouragement.  Then the relay begins with a symbolic lap taken by only cancer survivors.  In the second lap, they will be joined by all of the people who have served as caregivers to cancer patients demonstrating that cancer is never a journey taken alone.  Then on the third lap, everyone will be invited to join in the relay uniting us all in the battle against this terrible disease.

All through the night, there will be someone walking the track at all times.  I believe that the American Cancer Society’s motto says it best: Cancer never sleeps so for one night neither will we.  One of the highlights of the evening will be a luminary ceremony to honor the survivors and remember those who have lost their battle to cancer. 

It is always an evening of hope and celebration, a time to demonstrate what can be done when we all work together for a common cause, a time to honor those whose lives have been touched by this terrible disease and give hope to those who are doing battle with it right now.

I am grateful for the research and treatments that saved my life.  I pray that one day cancer will be among the diseases like polo that children must read about in history books to understand.  Until that day though, we must never stop looking for and praying for a cure. 

Yes, I am a cancer survivor.  I have now fought and won two battles with this monster.  I have also lost my mother, cousin and friends to cancer.  But while I am afraid my cancer will return, I also have hope.  Hope that comes from faith in God, faith in loved ones, and faith that when we all work and pray together great things can happen.

If you are interested in joining a team you can go to the American Cancer Society website about the relay.  You will find it @ www.relayforlife.org to find an event near you.  If cancer has not touched your life, it will.  Let’s all work together to kill this monster before it can take any more lives! 

  

Waiting on the Lab Report

We’ve all been there.  You finally get around to making that doctor appointment that you have been putting off forever.  There is a problem.  It hurts. It’s swollen.  It looks funny.  Or just doesn’t work right. You didn’t want to call, but your loved ones and your body insisted upon it.  It’s frustrating.  After all, you’re a busy person!  People depend upon you! You don’t have time to be sick.  Besides, it will go away!  Just ignore it!  Take some pain meds!  Think positive thoughts… but it doesn’t go away. 

So you call, put the date on your calendar and try not to think about it.  But then the day arrives.  As you pull into the parking lot you grumble to yourself.  I’ll be here forever.  I should charge the doctor for MY time.  This is stupid.  The doctor will laugh at me.  I am being a baby.  I’m just getting older.  I’m not staying…I don’t have time for this! 

           

As your mind screams for you to escape, you emerge from your car and make your way inside the minimally decorated waiting room.  You sign in, take the clip board, find a seat near the person who looks the LEAST sick in the room, fill out the forms and wait.  Old worn out magazines, a flat screen TV playing infomercials or some guy talking on his cell phone are the only distractions.  So, you sit.

           

As you wait the reality of the situation hits you.  There is a possibility that this problem could be life changing.  Maybe it is worse than you think.  Maybe that little problem is just the tip of the iceberg.  You are strong, mighty, invincible, but you know what icebergs can do, right?  They thought the Titanic would never go down and look what happened!  Who would take care of you if you really were sick?  How would you survive financially?  Would you lose your job, your house, your lifestyle?

           

Lost deep in your own thoughts, you suddenly feel yourself rise to your feet and say, “I’m fine” as you make your way to the door.  How did that happen?  You never heard her say your name.  You’re on autopilot now; greeting the nurse, scales, blood pressure, temperature and a brief overview of why you have come.  The nurse doesn’t want the whole story, just the basics and that is what you give her.  When she has finished her report, she tosses a gown upon the examining table.  “Remove your dignity and put this on,” she tells you, “the doctor will be in soon,” and then she leaves. 

           

With clothes nearby wearing a paper thin gown you wait.  There is no escaping now.  What do you say when the doctor enters the room?  How long HAVE you had this problem?  WHEN did it start?  Does anything make it worse, better, does anyone in your family have this?  You don’t know!  Until this moment it has been more important to ignore it, than concentrate on it. 

           

But now it is test time and you didn’t study!  You don’t want to look stupid.  You are here now.  You’ve come this far.  But what if you say the wrong thing, leave out the details or miss a symptom.  What if the doctor looks at you and says, “There is nothing wrong with you!  Why are you here!  You are wasting my time!”  Don’t think…just don’t think… you tell yourself.  So you look around the room. 

Why are there so many charts and pictures of the human body? That plastic model on the table is a bit creepy, too.  Are they there for me to see or does my doctor need a cheat sheet?  Good grief!  You know what they say…fifty percent of the doctors graduated in the bottom half of their class.  Which half did I get?  This is a mistake.  Can I get dressed and get out of here without them seeing me?  But then, two short knocks on the door and the doctor enters to room.  It’s show time!

You’re poked, prodded, questioned and finally patted on the back.  “Well,” the doctor says, “this is what I think.  It could be this; it could be that, it could be nothing at all.  We need to run a few tests to be sure” As soon as you hear those words your mind begins to race. More tests!  More missing work! More expense, waiting rooms, poked and prodded!  And what did you say it might be?  “So, what happens if it is this…or that” … you hear yourself stammer. 

“It might be nothing”, the doctor says calmly.  “Let’s see what the tests say then we will take it from there, OK?” …. OK?  OK?  No, it is NOT OK!  I came here for answers!  I want to know now!  What do I tell my loved ones!  What do I tell myself?  How do I know what to worry about!  What do I Google?  “That’s fine” you hear yourself say.  “Thank you doctor, I appreciate it” …and then you leave. 

Days later the whole process is repeated; parking lots, waiting rooms, clip boards, ugly gowns and waiting.  Waiting… Waiting… Waiting.  That problem that was so easily brushed aside refuses to give up center stage.  Now your life rests squarely in the hands of the lab. 

Do they know that they hold your life in the palm of their hands?  Do they understand that the results of this test are not mundane, routine, or insignificant?  It is not merely one test in hundreds that they do each week.  You are not a number, a slide, an x-ray, or biopsy.  You are flesh and blood.  You are someone’s family member, friend, co-worker, mentor and leader.  Your life matters.  You have goals, expectations, and dreams.  But all of that is on hold as you wait for the lab report. 

People look at your differently now.  There is gentleness in their voice.  “Have you heard anything?”  They ask.  And you wait.  What your life will be over the next few days, months and years all hang in this one phone call.  You know it and everyone around you knows it.  Will this waiting ever end!

And then the phone rings.  Caller ID tells you it is the call that you have waited for.  This is it.  The call you have both longed for and feared.  While other’s watch you pick up the phone.  What will they say?  Will you hang up the phone happy and relieved, or with fear and more questions than answers?  Do you really want to hear what they have to say?  There is only one way to know.  You slowly push the button to answer the phone and hold your breath. 

“Hello” 

“Yes, this is she…”