Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep,
If I shall die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.
I taught my daughter this poem last night. I talked to her about talking to God. Intuitively, she asked, "Why do some people talk to God before they eat and some people don't?" I did not really have an answer. So, I just said, "It is just a matter of preference, I suppose."
Except for on holidays, typically, we do not pray before a meal. However, in typing this now, I think I will show her the prayer that Pappy Ellis used to say before every meal. I have a laminated copy on my refrigerator, given to me years ago by my Aunt Anne Laura.
Generally, I do not write about my religious beliefs in this blog, but yesterday was a good reminder of my need for faith, as I had another visit to the ER.
Around 3:00 p.m., symptoms that had been plaguing me all day came to a head. While I thought it was the sudden change to cold weather, chills had riffled through me since the night before. I had taken two hot showers and still, was not able to warm up. I also had a low grade fever and a rash stemming from the area surrounding my new port placement. Yoga had been particularly hard for me yesterday and not because it was a hard class, but because I could not relax. All in all, I was just feeling odd. So, seeing as though I am a chemo patient and had surgery on Thursday, I called an advice nurse. I was sent to the ER.
Allowing Steve to stay home and grade papers, my dad drove me and sat with me for the two hours it took them to take blood samples and put me into a room. I had a very nice room indeed, complete with a new T.V. It was very much worth the $50 co-pay I was going to be charged. They started an I.V. and drew all sorts of blood, mainly testing for sepsis. They also took a chest x-ray.
I had a very handsome, extremely nice doctor. He said that my "levels" were all fine and I should be able to fight off or handle any sort of a virus/cold. The rash on my chest is more than likely from something they used during surgery that my chemo-sensitive skin did not like. What a relief. Steve came to pick me up shortly after 7:30.
For an ER visit, it was a pleasant experience. However, I could not help but be reminded of a couple of ER trips ago when they first told me my cancer had returned. Last night, walking through the ER on my way to check out, I saw the hallway where my bed was at the time I heard the frightful news. Shivers went up my spine as I passed this location. I do not think I will ever forget how I felt that day or the nurse who held my hand.
With permission from my handsome ER doctor, I am off to "Race for the Cure" this morning. Saddened by the chaos that I caused yesterday, I know that the "Race" will lift my spirits. I am looking forward to crossing that finish line.