just enough light...

It's my sister-in-law, Missy, who comes to get me on Wednesday for my MRI scan.  Its the first time someone else has taken me to a scan and it feels fine. Superman has been so dedicated, but I need to let him work as much as he can.  

So we arrive right on time and I hurriedly start my paper work. I think I need to start carrying a map of all my biopsy clips, surgical scars and radiation tattoos.  My form is so marked up with arrows and side notes, its like making a user's manual so the radiologist can make sense out of my scans. 

Luckily, I am called back right away.  Its the same tech that always takes care of me while I lay waiting for my sedation drugs to take effect.  

I hurry to dress, still giggling at the sight of me once I am adorned.  I almost took a selfie.  Its that amusing.

I have on a ginormous gown, with my back sticking out because no way can it be tied tight enough to fit.  I then put big grey gripper-slippers on my feet, and the one-size fits all blue shorts with elastic built in the waist.  They don't really stay up, so I just hold them, knowing I won't move much once I lay down.  

We go to put my clothes into a locker.

But this time I'm gripping something new.  

Its not being left behind.

I just have to figure out how to take it with me.

(Not only did all of you with prayer requests fill one whole side of a notebook sheet of paper?  But you filled the whole other side as well with your prayer requests.)

So I scroll it up tight under my one prayer bracelet (my "make my life a prayer" bracelet- holding all my prayers) I am allowed to wear because it has no metal in it.

The sedation nurse comes in next and instantly recognizes me.  We don't have to do the "dance." 

She makes sure my allergies haven't changed or my medications, then hands me two pills right away.

Here we go.

I roll to the side clutching my list.

My breath catches as I read each name.  Each request.  Each need.

cancer,

cancer,

oh, and more cancer,

loss of a child,

grief,

clarity,

healing,

major surgery,

and so on.

All valid.  

Over and over again I cover in prayer.

Till suddenly the tech is asking if I'm ready to go back?  

Already?

I nod yes.

She disappears then comes back to tell me, 15 minutes more.  I go back to prayer without skipping a beat.  

Finally I am taken back to the tube.  

As they reach for the key on my arm for the locker, they notice my crumpled list. 

"Medications?"  They ask.

I smile, "well, noooo." But sort of I think.  Prayer is quite possibly the best medicine.

The MRI machine begins to thump away.  Its like a jack-hammer going off and the ear plugs hardly squelch the sound.  

Then suddenly she is telling me its time for the shot of contrast.  I shudder a little, my veins roll so bad.  But I lay quiet and let her work.

She places the needle perfectly in my wrist and in no time I'm back in the scanner for the last few minutes.

Soon its the tech walking me back to the dressing room.  She hands me my clothes. Then my note.

I smile as I put it in my purse.  

I go home and sleep, deeply, peacefully, all night.

Monday I will see Dr. Foster for my results.

Today, started out rainy, and gloomy and cold again.

As I went to put my list down near the open window to photograph it, I looked through the lens only to discover sunlight streaming in over the paper.  No matter where I moved it?  The light seemed to follow.

Finally, I understood.  To just let it sit, in the light, while I soaked in the power of prayer.

And all shall be well.