"His Eye Is on the Quail"--and on the Lady in Port Surgery

Nearly every day this week has been dubbed a name by me. There was Hummingbird Monday, Beautiful Beulah Tuesday (she's our sweet next-door neighbor who wore a matching top same as one I had worn earlier), Didn't-Know-What-to-Name-It Wednesday, Peaceful Pool Thursday, and Quail Day on Friday.

Friday was the day  I was to go in for port surgery at 10 in the morning. No food for 12 hours beforehand, and no liquids 2 hours before, despite Arizona heat. I hydrated as well as I could early in the morning, coming early to the kitchen window where my gaze was surprised with the sight of a whole quail family out on our brick patio!

 God knew this little lady was unnerved about this procedure, and He sent this beautiful gift from nature to capture my attention so that I spent the morning enthralled instead of nervous.

Although I have to admit, for one awful moment, I was afraid I was not trusting God.

I had tried so hard to fight this cancer in ways that were not invasive and did not require cutting my body up, but I just couldn't do it anymore. And I ended up crying on Jonathan's chest just a little, about my fears, about how I had felt, when I had turned desperately to God for guidance in the past months, that He had guided me to the things I was taking and doing already. I had not felt total peace about coming down here until we got down here and started into the program, meeting another Christian couple in the same clinic!

Jonathan and I both knew where my doubts were coming from now, though, and it was not from God. So I dried it up and scurried around getting my things together.   

And then, what should meet our incredulous eyes a moment after pulling out of our drive but this family of quail crossing the road in front of us! 

 Now I don't know about you, but I can count exactly seven baby quail there with their mama and papa!

Just like Jonathan and me and our seven littles (who aren't little anymore!)

We slowed down and stopped and got pictures, and then discovered another family of quail in the yard there and by the cactus, and then a third family up at the corner as we slowly drove along!

This papa quail stood sentinel for a bit, just like our heavenly Father, and just like Papa Lucas watching over his little wife and keeping track of all the kids (three of whom are flying down next week). 

I was breaking down into tears as we pulled into Circle K for Jonathan's daily coffee. (That is his daily fix, just like mine is writing or blogging!) Jonathan reached over to console me, and I whispered, "I'm okay," so he went into Circle K wiping his eye, too, not realizing I was crying because I felt so cared about. 

I sat there hearing God's voice saying, "I know that you are trusting Me!" 

Even in this situation with your cancer. 

Even when you don't understand why nothing worked for you like it had worked for people you knew, one of whom had exactly my kind of cancer, stage 4 as well. 

Even when I had to do what I did not want to do. 

g

As we pulled into my clinic first to grab my breakfast they always serve before going to CIC, a surgery clinic, I discovered a dove on the power line above us. And it stayed right there even when I got out of the car and took a picture. 

I confided to my daughter Rose later how one thing I lacked when I arrived here was peace about this whole thing of coming down and going through the program here at the clinic. 

I arrived with my head almost clear in my lap, almost in fetal position with dread and despair, but how that has changed!

The temperature is still well above 110 every day (today it was 113), but so much has changed. 

We met a Christian couple at the clinic on the day we were given our first tour, and that totally changed our perspective. 

And then God dropped this condo near Avenue of the Fountains into our laps, and there has been nothing but quiet, peace, beauty, wildlife, and warmth, with time for quiet and peace and each other.  

And especially, there have been doves!

Doves at the fountains coming into the condo, doves on the neighbors' roofs, doves flying around, doves cooing in the distance, and walking on the grass. 

Doves are a sign of peace, and God knew peace was what I needed most. 

And there one was again just as I arrived at the clinic on the day I had to get my port put in!

Well, there I was, blue cap, hospital gown, and all. They wheeled me back to the surgery room as if I couldn't walk, and lifted me onto the surgery table as if I couldn't move--because that is how they do it, and you are not supposed to help because you will be a hindrance!

Ha!

Ask me how I found that out. 

I had the greatest team in the world--kind and cheerful, informative, professional and skilled. 

The lidocaine shots were the worst part, and then not a bit of pain. I had conscious sedation.

Here was what met my eyes when Jonathan helped me out to the car, me still whoozy after surgery, me with titanium hardware in my right chest under my collar bone.

 It was over. My time at the clinic had helped me realize this is just one more step in my cancer journey.

IPT chemo is starting Tuesday, the nurse told me.

I feel scared about that, too, because it requires 24 hours of fasting ahead of time, and then I am given insulin until my blood sugar is down to about 50. Then I get chemo, because the cancer cells think sugar is coming and open up wide to gobble up the sugar, and instead, they get the chemo.

With this innovative process, only 10-20% of the usual amount of chemo is necessary to have the same or even better effect.

"The man who came up with this procedure is a genius!" one of my doctors said. 

 The port surgery is behind me (only had to take a few Tylenol in the last 36 hours) and now I wonder what God has up His sleeve as I try to keep up my courage for the tougher treatments coming up, including Herceptin and chemo treatments?

This week He sent doves, flowers, fountains, and quail. 

I am looking forward to more of His goodness in this unexpectedly beautiful place!