I don't know if I'm angry.
Or if it's just me being sad. Selfish.
I think I'm a little mad, but I don't know
I don't feel like I know anything right now.
I spent minutes mad at the Divine,
until I want to sink back into the hands of Christ.
Then I repeat my anger fits. I am childish.
"Kyrie, eleison", I whisper over to myself.
Again and again and again.
It calms me, but only for a second.
I want to hold my children
and tell them that I'll be there forever
but I know that's not true.
Even if I live many more years,
we will be separated at some point.
I want to tell them that I'm sorry
I haven't played lately because
I've been so sick. I feel it.
I think about our church community.
How do I tell them? Should I just hide it?
But there's no way to hide the pain
on my face or Ema's.
I want to talk to my friend Brandon Hora
but, then I get sad again. Cancer beats people.
We are going to beat this cancer, I say.
All the while knowing that I can't make
a statement like that. In truth.
I HOPE we are going to beat this cancer.
I trust that Christ can beat this cancer.
I trust that the doctors can beat this cancer.
I trust that the cancer doesn't have to be
my final movement in life.
But, yet I sit here in a hospital bed
a bit afraid, a bit angry, and sad.
I trust that hope will come in the morning.
UPDATE: an oncologist believes that a tumor in my chest cavity is cancer. Tomorrow we will [hopefully] find out if this is definitely cancer (though the doctor believes it to be based on the CT scan) and where it has spread if at all. They will be doing CT scans on my lower body as well. I'll be in the hospital a few days while they figure this out. Everything at State Street will be fine as we have completely competent, Christ-loving, and energetic people all around.
This is sobering news for my family and I. We believe in the doctors at Memorial Hospital. The director of oncology really believes that whatever I have can be treated with chemo. So, we are hopeful.