That's All Folks!

Recently my mother called to say hello. She asked "How are you?" I said I was good. "Really, how are you?" I assured her I was fine. She then said jokingly something about "Liar, liar, pants on fire." 

I wasn't lying per se. Physically my body is in pain, me though I'm okay/fine/good and soon my body will catch up to my mind.

Today was my nineteenth radiation appointment out of twenty. I met with the oncologist for the last time for about a month or two. In about six weeks my hip should be all healed up and me off the crutches. I'll be getting more CT scans, blood tests and whatever other fluids they see fit to test. 

THE CALL came about four months ago. A tumor the size of a kiwi was found on my hip. Later we learned I had plasmacytoma, a cancer. There is no numbered "cancer stage" for it, just something you have or don't have and some tumors are bigger then others. My oncologist said it was possible it was there for five years more or less. Of course there is no way of really knowing. 

For days and weeks after THE CALL my head was spinning. At times I just wanted to die and wanted to live to be 103; run away or never leave my room, scream, be silent; wished that no one knew, yet I wanted to talk to EVERYONE about it; prayed, wondered what the point of prayer was. When I watched TV I wanted to be literally absorbed into the screen and get to say witty one liners at the right time, then after watching I would vow to never watch TV again. 

Within 48 hrs I wasn't interested in going over all the details anymore to whomever called. I was glad people cared, however to no fault of anyone, it simply withdrew more energy than it gave. 

Those thoughts and more would swoop through my mind in a nano-second or two. It was exhausting. Just thinking about that whirlwind now is too stressful to relive. 

A day or two after THE CALL I was mid conversation with a friend, I said "I'll blog about the details and send you the link." It made sense to blog about my doctor appointments to keep my family and friends in the loop if they wanted to be. Several conversations I have had with some of my family and friends clearly indicates they don't read the blog - so whoever you are I'm glad you have read and shared this journey with me. Expressing what I was feeling about my appointments and new life, made the surreal real and was the most therapeutic thing I did.

Being diagnosed with a very rare form of cancer that mainly senior citizens get (two out of three who are black) struck me odd. For those that don't notice things like age or race I'm only 33 years old and white. 

For the past months I've been wondering what went wrong. The easiest answer is bad things just happen. Though it's true that bad things happen my gut said there might be more to the story. I've never been a drinker, smoker or drug user and whether I did or not, it seemed like I ate healthier than the average person. In short, I believe that my diet wasn't helping me.

With all the medical tests I got, one of the things found out was that I was getting adult-onset diabetes (Type 2). That's news worthy in itself, but I never brought it up because it pails in comparison to cancer and there was no need to worry more people (Mom and Dad). I already have non-alcoholic fatty liver disease (NAFLD) and hypothyroidism for people to worry about (Mom and Dad). 

Instinctually after THE CALL I cut back on junk food and within a month I lost a few pounds. Then I saw a nutritionalist and adjusted what I ate some more and lost a few more pounds. 

Type 2 Diabetes is usually for 45 years and older. If your reading comprehension is low or memory is short: I'M ONLY 33 YEARS OLD! 

I have only one body and this one body I have needs to take care of the only family I have. There's plenty of theories of why people get cancer, but Type 2 diabetes is due to a combination of lifestyle and genetic factors. I can't change my genetics, but I can change what goes in my pie hole. Dieting has never worked for me, hence getting adult-onset diabetes at 33, so I have made a switch to less processed foods, more raw and organic - that's it.

My 30 pound weight loss is from my change of diet, not from getting cancer. I have only lost my lunch once during the radiation and that was about 4 weeks ago. 

Food is just one thing that has changed since THE CALL. My value system has been refined some and I truly look at the world differently. I have questioned and reevaluated every aspect I am aware of about my life, from my address, faith, family, friends, entertainment, money, education, the roles I have in peoples lives and theirs in my own life. Simply, how I think just is not the same. Thank goodness. There are certainly things I have changed and things that I am improving.

After today's appointment we went to a beach, I sat down and Myrtle walked everywhere. She picked up rocks, a small dead crab and dried seaweed. The scenery was picture perfect and the weather even better.  These are the moments I am living for.

Myrtle, first day of summer 2011

Today is the first day of summer and tomorrow is my last radiation appointment. This to me is an end of a chapter and the beginning of a new one and I want my life to reflect that. As of now I'm not interested in writing about my tumor, no matter how hip it is. My head is no longer spinning, I don't quite feel so confused or like my life is up in the air. In fact I feel more grounded now than I did pre-diagnosis. 

There are boundless things I want to write and talk about, but I will keep that between my journal, family and maybe friends.

For the record I know that prayer has worked miracles in more ways then I can express. Thank you for those that have prayed on my and my family's behalf. In return I have prayed every single day for those that are praying for me, that their burdens may be lifted and know that they are loved. Still, I don't understand the mechanics of prayer, meaning how it works, just that praying has helped my family and I. Thank you Mom for teaching me how to pray.

Thank you for reading, thank you for caring. For old times sake perhaps one more prayer for Myrtle's dad.

Lots of love, 

Ruban

Feel free to email me rebalkin@gmail.com

I Have To, I Am Her Dad!

I've heard Myrtle gets a lot of mentions on this blog, on my Facebook, in my conversations and in the comic book series I write with her as the heroin fighting crime by softening hardened criminals with her electric smile. I didn't know I was Myrtle-fying my all my conversations so much. Granted it took me a few months to mention her name without tearing up, so maybe I do mention her a fair bit.


In my defense Myrtle is awesome.


My view on the world changed when she was born. Not so much in logistics of life, but in my very mind and soul. I remember my Aunt Robin asking me soon after Myrtle's birth how my life had changed, my reply was "I didn't know how self absorbed I was before."


Today is Myrtle's birthday and at radiation one of the tech's, Julia, had a gift for Myrtle, a small stuffie pig in a ballerina outfit. Myrtle loved it and carried it around as she bounced down the halls smiling at all.

I was moved by Julia's small gift, as it was hugely thoughtful.


After radiation I met with my oncologist. Our meetings are brief and it seems like he's quite happy to be out the door ASAP. Though he does fully answer any question asked. Today I asked when will I have a clean bill of health. My optimism mixed with my naiveté wasn't mentally prepared for him to nonchalantly state "maybe" and "if". What got me was him saying it might pop up years, maybe a year or two, later as multiple myeloma (that's not a good thing). Statistically radiation has about a 9% of success. All I could think was my time with Myrtle is limited.


How lucky Myrtle is to have no idea why we go to the hospital everyday. How lucky I am to have a reason other then myself to be healed.


I cried on the way to the car. I cried driving to our stroll on the boardwalk. I cried on the boardwalk. I cried as we picked up Myrtle birthday cake and cupcakes. Coming home and sitting down I cried on my trusty recliner as Myrtle and her cousin Montana were colouring in the kitchen.


Faith had wrapped up gifts we were to give her at her party and I knew she would love them. But I learned something from Toy Story 3 and that is kids grow up. Incase Myrtle ever wondered if her father loved her I started writing. I then printed it out and taped in her birthday card.

Tribute To Myrtle On Her First Birthday

Myrtle when you were born it woke me up
Was I really asleep for 32 years?

Eagerly I have lost countless hours of sleep staying up late
Hoping you’d awake from yours
Losing sleep to gain memories was an easy choice
Especially now that you sleep through the night

Many mornings still asleep I hear you are awake with Mom
You make the cutest sounds with your “words”, “Dadda" being the sweetest
I get out of bed and say “Goooooood Morning! Helloooo Myrtle!”
No matter how tired

Your smile is too bright sleep through
The thought of missing out on your “firsts” easily rolls me out of bed

Mom will sometimes plop you on my sleeping body
Waking me from silly dreams
Usually you grab my face and I see your smile
Now I get to live out the dream of being your “Dadda”

Your personality is joyful and magnetic
This has made naps and bed time hard to do
Whether it’s yours or mine
Awake with you I get to experience this world I have missed

Perhaps I had been asleep for 32 years

May you always wake me up Myrtle

My life is for Myrtle, everything I have is hers from my time to what is on my plate. I never quite understood my parents' love for me. I rolled my eyes way too long about things I didn't like hearing. I didn't get "it". Regarding helping out in this time of need, my parents emailed me offering all they had, whatever they have to help, even if it meant selling their home to help. I thought it drastic at the time, but now understand how I would do ANYTHING for Myrtle, my parents too would do ANYTHING to help me. And they would.

Myrtle it's my hope one day you read this, you come from good stock.

Something my old roommate/cousin Andrew would say was "Celebrate success, no matter how small." Sometimes it was just "Celebrate success!" with a fist pump. Like most things, Andrew was right.

As I mentioned, today is her birthday. It felt it right to go all out, to really celebrate. We went to our favorite beach, had balloons, food and gifts. Though it was cold and rainy earlier in the day the clouds parted and sun shined on the part of God's earth we stood. Us three plus thirty-seven of our friends and family came to celebrate Myrtle. She may never have more well attended birthday party. Everyone had a great time, especially the Birthday Girl.

What the fuss is all about!

Leaving the beach I cried again. I wasn't sad, just so very grateful to have had such a fantastic time celebrating life - the life of my daughter. Yes, the party was for her and it was also for her parents - with all our faults somehow we produced Myrtle!

While the I'm going through the actual radiation all I think is "Where can I can take Myrtle after this?" When I pray for my health it's that I may live long that I may raise Myrtle. When I choose to eat healthier I eat to help my body heal so I can be Myrtle's father. Etc., etc., etc..

I know I am also a friend, nephew, cousin, uncle, brother, son, and husband. Frankly, all of you don't need me the way Myrtle does, she's barely a one year old and I'm her father. One day she'll plan her own birthday parties if she wants to and she might roll her eyes while saying "Oh Dad! You just say that because you you have to, you're my dad." She'd be right, I have to, I am her dad!

Doing it for the Sympathy or Empathy?

Yesterday I remembered when in grade three braking my arm riding to fast on my brother Jason's black and yellow BMX bike. I was too small for it. My brother Dion wrote on my cast "Did you do this for the empathy or sympathy?" 

Ever wonder if you're the only one going through _________? I was yesterday feeling out of sorts in a way - I wanted sympathy or empathy. I have been open and rejected the idea of support groups. What I have learned from those that have or are going through cancer is that a similarity has been our reaction and others reactions upon learning of the diagnosis. But since my cervix isn't been removed; a mastectomy isn't required; and chemotherapy or surgery aren't on the agenda it seems others journey's are on another planet. Plus, it feels like out of the cancer options I was lucky overall. Nonetheless I wanted to see if there were others in Victoria with plasmacytoma so I Googled "plasmacytoma support groups, victoria, bc". 

The first link had nothing to do with plasmacytoma. The second and third were support groups for women (maybe ones I dated?). Which brings us to the forth and fifth ...ME! So it seemed like my support group is a mirror.

It got me thinking of what real support is. Nothing wrong with strangers being acquainted over cancer, but for me I think it might be just too time consuming and depressing (maybe). However yesterday my mother called before bed to say "Hey, how are you? Talk to me." My dad dropped by with some produce. My niece Montana is visiting and helping around the home, made me grilled cheese sandwiches. Myrtle, well she is an angel with a radiant smile and a goofiness that lifts my spirits beyond words.

I also considered what came in the mail yesterday.  I saw on the customs slip that inside was a "blanket" and "pens".  Pens? The blanket part I understood, the sender was from Sandy, Oregon, my Aunt Lyn,  a world renowned quilter (well in my world she is). Why she would send pens though was a head scratcher, "Well... she is getting older... but she not THAT old, is she?" I thought.

Nope, she's not. The quilt has patches for family and friends to write on, the "pens" are a bunch of permanent markers. Some of my American family had already signed some patches. A quilt wasn't a surprise per se, but being able to have people sign it was! Once more a quilt made me cry.

Over the weekend I had some side effects that were to be expected, just not welcomed. There was no radiation on Monday and today's was at 8:00am. In short I was anxious and had a hard time falling asleep. Open the window. Shut the window. Lie on my tummy. Lie on my side. What time is it? 12:40am! Okay no more looking at the clock. Lie on my back. Do I have to pee? I've been here more then an hour, I better go now. Have the window opened just a crack. I'm thirsty. 

On the way back from the glass of water I saw the quilt I've dubbed my "Sympathy or Empathy" quilt. I grabbed it and brought it to bed and thought of what was written by some of my support group. That I was loved and I could do this. It calmed my troubled nerves and I had a great sleep. Thank you Aunt Lyn!

When I received the quilt I wrote her this:

Dear Aunt Lyn,

Any Guesses what is keeping me warm as I type? I know it might take me a few days to think of something better than THANK YOU! All I can say is I look forward to when Myrtle can enjoy the quilt and comprehend the love you and the family shared with her daddy. 

Thank you and THANK YOU!

Lots and lots and lots of love,

Rube

Please if you are ever by and you want to sign it, please do, I could the use the sympathy or empathy. 

Myrtle showed she approved of the quilt in her own way. Montana encouraged her no doubt. 

In Myrtle's room.

When Is It Okay To Slap Ruban?

A while back my niece Kathryn came for a week to help Faith out with Myrtle and me. It was a huge help and a new face was a welcomed change in conversation too. A little after that my oldest brother Dion texted me regarding his daughter Montana.

All kidding aside it was nice to know help was coming. Myrtle is the most social baby I know, she loves people and extra attention. Sometimes I'm not always having enough energy to play or help out with Myrtle when she's ready for it. So Montana here will be a welcomed addition. 

She arrived last night flying from Salt Lake City to Seattle. From there she took her first cab ride from the airport to the Clipper ferry which brought her to the island. My parents picked her up and dropped her off here. Knowing that Montana is a voracious reader (she's read the dictionary) I asked "So do you play Scrabble?" Before I knew it I was playing with a real live person (online Scrabble isn't quite the same). Caught up in the excitement of it all I realized mid-game I ought to let her dad know she arrived safely.

Montana has only played a Scrabble a few times, whereas I have played hundreds upon hundreds for about ten years. One might think I went easy on her, one would be wrong. One might think my I wouldn't gloat in my victory, one would be wrong. 

Montana: 169 & Uncle Ruban: 298

Truth is I was scared, the game started out with her winning and my guess is that she'll be winning in the end before she flies back home.

I'm blogging all the above for me to remember what sacrifices have been made on my behalf. It's not a cheap trip for Montana to make and I doubt not every 17 year old is willing to spend two weeks of their summer helping out their families version of Uncle Buck. 

After I blogged about the quilt my sister-in-law Colleen made me, the next day we had an hour long Skype video chat. Colleen showed me what each square on the quilt meant. She said that since we live far away from each other, dropping off meals, visiting or watching Myrtle of course wasn't possible. However, making the quilt was a way for her to contribute, to show love and support.

Dion echoed Colleen's sentiments; wanting to help but being 1,580 km's away he wasn't too sure how. He said "Well in the olden days a family would send over their daughter to help." Who knows, maybe in 17 years Dion will be sick and I'll be sending Myrtle down. Maybe I should start a quilt now incase Colleen ever gets sick.

We never know when someone will need help or what to do when that happens. I know prayer of others has helped me tremendously. I'm not sure still how/why it works, just that it has. My cousin-in-law Dana asked how I knew I was being prayed for and I didn't have a great answer. There are outward manifestations: having great health (considering I'm in the middle of cancer treatment); people crossing my path that have aided in my my healing; kind emails and phone calls; having not worked since September yet still eating and putting gas in the tank (thank you to those who donated). The inward/spiritual manifestations have been peace of mind, stillness of heart, faith and hope. Our soul needs that as much as our bodies require food and air.

My cousin Emily wrote "I will be thinking about you and Faith and Myrtle ...and praying for you as well since prayers are even better than thoughts... I will also be praying to know what I can do for you and your family. "

Sometimes the "do" is visiting, emailing, forgiving, more praying, phone calls, texting, paging, faxing, smoke signals or giving me a three pound bag of quinoa (thanks Cindy, I can't wait to Google what to do with it!).  Asking what can be done is appreciated and sometimes it's just as exhausting to answer too. 

On Thursday I had one of those days where I wondered how is life going to really work. Where is my dignity? How am I going to make ends meet? Will I really heal? Can I be the father that Myrtle needs? It doesn't matter what happened.  I suppose what "happened" was life plans didn't seem to be panning out and I was lacking faith and lost some perspective.

After all the help I've been given please slap some sense in me if I ever see another's lack and I not share. 

Generally speaking, the most miserable people I know are those who are obsessed with themselves; the happiest people I know are those who lose themselves in the service of others...By and large, I have come to see that if we complain about life, it is because we are thinking only of ourselves." 

— Gordon B. Hinckley

Here I am with energy to write, but too sore to play with Myrtle and there's Montana playing with Myrtle. My brother saw that I was in need and sent his daughter to do what I can't. In fact while I was writing my Aunt Lyn emailed me "Isn't it amazing... when you need help... help arrives..." 


Yes, it is amazing!

The 9th Caller!

Whenever I wake to Myrtle crying and her momma is up with her, I swear she's saying "Daaa Daaaaa waaa waaake up!" That is how today started. Faith said Myrtle was crying because she slipped in the tub, but I knew better - it was time for Dadda to wake up. 

Before leaving I made sure I had everything for our trip and Faith made sure Myrtle had everything to hold the fort down as we left her behind with her Great Grandma Hazel, Aunties Joan, Lois and Ennyd. It was hard to leave Myrtle behind as she brings me so much joy, but today's errand was different and it was best she stayed back. Besides, Myrtle was in very good capable loving hands. 

First order of business was dropping off 24 hours of "business" at the lab. Walking from the fridge to the living room with a container holding 24 hours of my urine with three aunts and my grandma near by was personally awkward. I don't know if any noticed and doubt any would care; still odd though. Today I was the first moment I was glad to be on crutches, as it meant Faith carried my day's supply to the lab for me.

After the lab deposit, we went to Victoria General Hospital to have my skeletal survey (head to toe x-ray) done. The head medical imaging technicians's name was Ruby and our name similarities was the only highlight of my 20 minute x-ray. 

Faith waiting outside the x-ray room.

Our last and most important stop was at the Royal Jubilee Hospital. The help desk directed us to the wrong end of the hospital and the wrong floor. We then learned where to go and quickly made our way to the 5th floor and were whisked away by someone wearing a smock. "Bone marrow biopsy? This way" he said without even asking who we were. Part of me wasn't even sure if he was a hospital worker (how hard is it to get a smock in a hospital?), but soon it was established that he was legit and we were where we needed to be.

The doctor came in and she was very pleasant like our nurse. Upon being asked if I knew why I was getting the bone marrow biopsy I replied with "I won a radio contest, I was the ninth caller." That broke any ice and it was a friendly atmosphere with lots of joking from all four of us. 

Laying on my side in a fetal like position I was prepped for the biopsy. A pinkish solution was applied then freezing needles were poked in. The freezing fluid had a bee-sting type of sensation. Soon my back right upper hip was frozen and the biopsy procedure begun.

Faith had asked if she could take pictures. Soon after it begun I hear "Faith, Faith, Faith" and saw Faith in the corner of my eye as she fell forward on the the hospital bed fainting. I tried not to laugh, but she was safe and well, it was funny.  Faith sat down and the nurse took over her photographer duties.

This photo was taken by Faith

This was taken by the nurse.

If you grab your bottom teeth and aggressively move your jaw back and forth that is a little of what my hip felt like as the biopsy needle worked its way into my hip bone. Then the marrow was sucked out. After it was done they asked me to describe how it felt. One patient, they said, answered by saying "it felt just wrong." It certainly did hurt and is quite tender now. I had no answer for them then, but hours later and napping on their question I would say it was very disagreeable. 

All done.

To the right is my bone marrow and the right is a core sample of my hip bone.

My bone marrow. 

All the red is yours truly's bone marrow.

While laying on the bed recouping, different nurses came in to take some blood samples and before I knew it we were home in 3.5 hours. Walking up the stairs and seeing Myrtle content on my aunts lap was fantastic. Soon after, I was napping and now I'm blogging. So you are about as caught up as one could be.

At least five viles of blood taken here. 

The doctor said that the bone marrow of multiple myeloma tends to be cloudy and mine wasn't, so that could be a sign I have plasmacytoma. They will know the results for sure in about two days and I'll know within ten days. 

March Madness Indeed

March has been a memorable month for our family. Finding out there's a large tumor inside of me that might be cancerous and then waiting 26 days to find out that it is cancerous was a real challenge. Now we're waiting for more tests and biopsies to determine whether it is plasmacytoma or multiple myeloma (both blood cancers).

It was strange to hear Faith pray tonight that I would have plasmacytoma. Multiple myeloma from what I gather is less fun between the two cancers. I've concluded earlier in the month that it's easier being the family member in need than it is for everyone else. Hearing that prayer, talking to my brothers (Andrew included) and my parents only solidified that conclusion. I'm so grateful that Myrtle is in baby bliss, unaware of it all.

Quickly I've learned that my high school biology classes 16 years ago haven't helped me understand anything about what is going on. The only thing plasma I knew of are in TV's and Star Trek episodes. Plasmacytoma? Even my spell check doesn't recognize it. Grasping that my blood is cancerous ...unfathomable. Currently I'm about as ignorant as one can be on plasmacytoma and its implications.

If I knew all of life's outcome I would have no faith, learn nothing or gain wisdom. I'm not quite yet grateful for having plasmacytoma, however I'm grateful, really grateful, for the focus I have on life and I that I get to find out what I am made of.

Some that know me, know my affinity for ice cream and my love for jalapeno chips. Those two vices got me through fifteen years of break-ups and disappointments. When I got THE CALL I knew there was not a chip bag or a tub of ice cream big enough that would bring real comfort or provide any solution.

Let food be your medicine and medicine be your food. 

~Hippocrates

Something had to change. Tuesday I met with a competent nutritionist and learned of a few tweaks and adjustments to help me be in optimal health for this new chapter in my life. Far as I'm concerned my road to recovery has begun.

Another important moment happened Tuesday. I walked in my bathroom, looked at myself in the mirror and spontaneously said loudly "Ruban you are going to beat this!" After that I felt like I just did, the doctors just don't know it yet. The rest of the day it felt like I was carrying a secret bagging to be told, so I went to my Facebook profile and broadcasted how I now felt. It was so liberating to click on the "Share" button that I let out a very loud whoop accompanied with the classic fist pump. Poor Myrtle was so startled by it she almost cried. Faith ran into the room to see what was wrong. 

Have you ever ran or exercised until you hit that mental wall, thinking in near tears that you'll die if you keep going? Mentally that is how I feel (but with full blown tears), except the difference is that I will die if I don't keep going. 

Today someone thoughtfully dropped off a gift that now graces our living room and I want to share with you too.

Thank you E.H.!

Really, truly, with all my heart thank you for all the well wishes, good vibes and prayers! Smiles, hugs, handshakes are most welcome, but please just save the sorry's and sad faces for the cancer and not me. Capiche?

Are You There God? It's Me, Ruban.

We've been staying at my brothers home for eight days now, a few more days than we thought we would. I've been asked to stay off my hip completely which equals bed rest.  Day one I watched lots of TV, but by 2:30pm I had enough of Oprah and her Dr.'s. Plus, soon after my niece and nephew came home from school, they are more entertaining anyways.

One out of the three isn't hamming it up.

Through out the week I dabbled watching a little more TV. I tried reading things called books, but my attention span seems to be as long the throbs of dull pain in my hip. Every throb reminds me why I'm lying down on a foam mattress in my brothers living room. 


Right now the house is quiet as the family is at church, Faith is upstairs getting ready for the day and Myrtle's napping beside me. Now as I feel that dull pain throbbing in my hip I can't help but wonder about her future and literally what will tomorrow bring when I get the biopsy results.

Hopefully Myrtle is the only that sleeps through this blog.

To be a Christian without prayer is no more possible than to be alive without breathing.

~ Martin Luther King, Jr.

Prior to THE CALL I have been more or less the praying type. Since THE CALL my prayers have increased and intensified somewhat. I certainly have had a moment or two of "Why me?" That attitude though interfere's with having faith and really living life. 


Prayer is something I have given much thought of lately. Mainly because I have never quite grasped how and why it works, just that it does. Considering the variety of responses to my request to pray for me, it sounds like I am not that only one who doesn't understand.

Pray as though everything depended on God. Work as though everything depended on you. ~ Saint Augustine  Roman Christian Theologian and Bishop of Hippo from 396 A.D. to 430 A.D.  I was reading a book review for Promptings or Me? Recognizing the Spirit's Voice, by Kevin Hinckley. And I thought to myself "Looks like an interesting read. I wonder what the author's thoughts are on the how and why prayer works." So I emailed him and he graciously replied: If Aunt Tillie needs a dose of divine intervention and I, in my nightly prayer, forget to mention her because I had too many other things on my ‘prayer list’, does she go without? Would a loving Heavenly Father withhold blessings He intended for Tillie, simply because I missed her in my prayer? Again, what do we hope to accomplish in our conversations with our Creator? The Children of Israel stood with the Red Sea before them and charging Egyptian army behind. Had they simply been content to a 1) narrow down my decision to two choices, 2) choose one, 3) look for burning or stupor, and then 4) follow, they wouldn’t have made it. Their two choices probably wouldn’t have included “ask the Lord to part the Red Sea!” More likely, it would have been: We narrowed our choices down to going North or going South. We decided on North. Can you confirm this? Imagine Israel’s frustration when they couldn’t get an answer either way: no stupor, no confirmation, no answer at all! Doesn’t He care? They’d wonder. Can’t He see we’re in trouble here? The truth, obviously, would be that the Lord had a completely different plan in mind. His plan included options the Children of Israel could not even conceive of. So, in looking at our own prayers, are you more interested in your solutions or His? Do you really want to be limited by your mortal, myopic solutions to your problems or would you be more blessed by learning his panoramic perspective? In short, why do we pray? To learn what it is He wants us to do.  We pray to be filled by the empowerment that comes from divine communication.  We pray to learn His will, not to tell Him what He needs to do for someone or something. This might include “what would you have me do for Aunt Tillie? Heavenly Father, you love Aunt Tillie. She’s your daughter and I know you will bless her according to her needs. How can I help? Is there something I can do for her?” I feel comfortable praying for the tumor to be benign and for a swift recovery that I may provide for my family. Additionally I pray for support that I can handle this well.  Praying is seemingly an intangible thing. There's been plenty of times I have not wanted to pray, or questioned if there was anyone to pray to. But I've been fortunate enough to have recognized answered prayers and this makes the intangible tangible.  For example I know myself better than anyone, so I know that the burden of the implications of the tumor for me are heavy. Prayer answered: that burden has been lifted. My earning power this month was taken down a few notches. Prayer answered: my brother's business partner had a 50/50 draw at a bar he spins vinyl at to help out with our travel expenses. Someone at the Workers Compensations Board noticed that I was underpaid and sent me the difference.  I can't play with Myrtle as I used to or help Faith around the house. Prayer answered: my dad comes by and cleans our house scrubs the shower and picks up groceries. Here at my brother Jason's, he and Colleen and their kids play all day long with Myrtle. Of course there's a hip tumor the size of a kiwi weakening the bone. Prayer answered: I have one the best doctors in the whole world working with a team on my recovery plan. I've had a few sad moments, but somehow felt comforted. Prayer might not make me invincible, but it sure has calmed my troubles, kept me focused on the positive and open to miracles.