And So We Celebrate!

I had my 2 week post-op check up today and the doctor said 3 good things. Number one, he observed that Byron is obviously taking good care of me. (As is my mum!) Number two, the wide smile of my abdominal scar is healing nicely. And, best of all, number three, the pathology report says all was benign. We're all so happy about that!

This evening I went out with Byron, Heather and my folks, leaving the house for my first outing since I arrived home from hospital on 15th. We went to the really delightful Technique Restaurant at Le Cordon Bleu College of Culinary Arts here in Pasadena. Wow! It was a lovely experience! The food (we chose three course meals) was delicious. The students and staff were friendly, helpful and attentive. The setting was very attractive, yet informal, and the price was amazing.



Tonight I'm thankful for food and family, healing and health.

I'll raise my glass to all of that!

Feelings? What Feelings?

How does WHAT feel?

Are we talking about graduating a second son with his degree and everything that accompanies this season of completion and launching? Are we talking about what it feels like to look at him and contemplate the man he has become? Or are we talking about the suspended time and reality of being in the States for a couple of months instead of being in East Africa? Might we talking about trying to figure out how to celebrate life in the midst of painful realities when my little niece gets pregnant, then married, then has a baby at just barely 17? Are we talking about having a total hysterectomy (ovaries, tubes, uterus and all) when I wasn't expecting one? Perhaps we're talking about that I'm still getting frequent notes from readers about "my little book"? Or are we simply talking about me being home sick for my dusty ramshackle town and the friends I share life with there?

These things have all been happening on top of each other in the last couple of weeks so it's all a jumble to me.

I will say this about surgery... I'm thankful. I've received incredible care and expertise. My doctors and nurses were tender and smart and good. Always the joker, God gave me a West African doctor who spoke with humor and wisdom and called me Sleeping Beauty when he stopped by my hospital bed. While we have to wait 2 weeks for the lab report, he didn't feel anything looked more ominous that benign fibroids and cysts. I can't say I like the waiting, but I trust the gentle God who thought it was funny to take me out of Africa to be treated by an African elder.

Do I feel weird about missing some significant parts of me? No. I'm extremely pleased with the work we did together. Together with God and with Byron, my bits and I made four amazing people and I'm now well retired from all of that. African through and through, Dr. Ajilore asked if I was certain I was done having children. I'm 48 but, hey, thanks for thinking to ask.

Recovery is Madeleine L'Engle to the fragrance of lavender and roses. It's Egyptian Licorice tea and "Say Yes to the Dress" with Heather. It's trying desperately not to laugh when my mom's stories are shaking my sore abdomen with giggles. It's a warm duvet and time to ponder.

And as for graduation, I'm still kind of speechless. This I can say: Trevor Byron Borden, I am astonished by who you are.

Yes, that's how it feels.

(Photo credit: Jasmine Guerrero)

Africa Wounded

Yesterday was World AIDS Day.

Yesterday a baby girl of 11 months old died in the Democratic Republic of Congo. She died of internal injuries because she had been raped the day before.

Everyone is saying that we still need better prevention (which I assume includes many, many things) and better treatment for AIDS, most especially in struggling countires like those that cover this continent.

They are right, of course.

But there is something much deeper and more basic needed. A gaping wound of violence needs to cleansed, closed and healed.

Standing on that healing, prevention and treatment will make headway. Or maybe they all come simultaneously, I don't know. But they won't come if one of them is not addressed.

I don't know how to help.

Prince of Peace, please come.