No Words

I posted this image on Instagram earlier this week, thinking it might take the stress from someone who barely did more than exist that day.

Ironically, it is where I find myself at the end of this week.

A phone call from someone, who is supposed to help me, had the voice of robot as she kept repeating the same thing… no matter what questions I asked.

Heart begins to break, but I hold it together.

Then, more medical tests. I’m very tired of those and the number of medications I take. Unexplained high blood pressure for over a year, and every round of labs seems to pop with a new, “We need to test this.”

Meanwhile, I just want to sleep.

I honestly cannot keep up with the checks I mail to various medical agencies. I shove the portion of a statement “above the perforated line” into a box and never look back. I even overpaid someone once and Quest Diagnostic sent me a $5.00 refund.

Just keep it.

Then, tomorrow (2/23) begins the one-year anniversary of my brother’s death. The two agonizing days we waited for him to die.

But, the worst thing this week that put everything else in a shadow, were the words, “I have cancer.”

She’s my friend. She is like a natural leader, a faithful servant, never losing patience, a female MacGyver, always helping others, a constant problem solver, consistently positive, and loves all kids like I do.

Where I’m the pushover, she can see when they are playing us. It’s funny.

She has offered wisdom and friendship when I needed it most, and I had nothing to say when she told me this news.

I was just blank.

There was really no need to say I would pray for her, and we are way past any cliche response. Sometimes, people don’t need to hear Philippians 4:13. I’m just being real.

Here’s the problem…she is a fighter. A problem solver. I have never seen a situation she could not work out, with safety pins, band aids or duct tape.

This cancer though, it isn’t treatable, except to treat the symptoms. It won’t let her, or us, fight back, but it moves slow. I pray it crawls to a stop.

I do thank God those symptoms seem to be minimal now. As long as it doesn’t spread, she will just have a special therapy 1-3 days a week…maybe forever?

Obviously, from all of the blog posts I have written, I know what God says about trials, hope, healing – and I do believe it. My friend is a believer also, and she knows.

It just takes your breath away for a moment when hearing something like this.

I can only be silent and listen to my Lauren Daigle mix.

And wonder.

And pray.

And ache in my chest.

And want to sleep.

The sun will shine another day.

Some days we just need to be silent.

Copyright © 2018 Keysha Thomaston

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