I know everyone knows how misconstrued information can become. Like a game of telephone. I've had it happen to me constantly throughout the years... you know... all 27 of them. With Patty getting cancer, it's made me so conscious about what I say. I don't want the wrong information to get out there about her. Gossip is a vicious weapon. With my divorce, it was (still is) AWFUL. Why I tried to not talk about it. Painful too. I've had "close friends" and other couples twist information about me for the sole purpose of gossiping. I have an amicable relationship with my now ex-husband. Words can be used to hurt or heal. I've never become more aware of that fact.
These things seem so petty now. I wish the biggest problem I had was telling a gossipy ex-friend to get their facts straight about my personal life, not worrying about how sick Padre is or how much time I may or may not have with her.... which makes me want to tell the story of why we call each other that.
When we moved to Atlanta from Summit, we lived in a tiny apartment and were forced to store our belongings in a storage unit until our house in Deerfield sold-OMG SO MISERABLE. When it finally sold, we bought a house still under construction. So, by the time we were finally able to move in- it had been A WHILE. Jerry hired a moving company to speed up the process. In south Georgia, there are a lot of Latin Americans- specifically those from Mexico- which was the majority of the moving team. Obviously, there was a lot of Spanish spoken. As they are moving our things in, me and Patty couldn't stand it we were so excited to finally have a house, we kept following the movers around. Leslie was away at camp, and Graham and Jerry were outside doing stuff I'm sure. With every box brought in, there was a string of Spanish spoken followed with a "where to compadre?" directed at me and my mom. Compadre means "buddy" in Spanish. Of course, me and Patty picked it up and started calling each other compadre. Which, we still don't know how, it shortened to "Padre" over the years. We have been calling each other "Padre" since I was 16 years old. Sometimes, Jerry literally can't handle all the Padre's being spoken, because we say it in every sentence to each other. Pretty sure when I lived there I had a "OMG YA'LL CANNOT SAY PADRE ONE MORE TIME" spoken to us on more than one occasion. With every new boyfriend I brought home (like all 3 or 4 of them), he would warn them of the amount of Padre's they were going to hear to prepare them.
"Glorify ye the Lord in the fires."
Isaiah 24:15
If there was ever a new favorite verse of mine, it's that one.
Margaret Bottome
Triumphing over sickness, death and other adverse circumstances in them- that's the real deal- the real triumph.
I still wish my biggest problem was catty girls and watching my mouth- but either way- I pray I can glorify God in any fire.
Patty got her port put in Wednesday morning... then straight to chemo for 3.5 hours. Yuck. Her chemo will last for 18 weeks :( and they're using the drugs Taxol and Carboplatinum. They alternate using the Carboplatinum every other week. She wasn't sick from the chemo until today. Leslie got home from Starkville and has been with her all day. When I moved out, so did my bed, so I'm going over there tomorrow. It's a lot when me and Oliver are there- you remember what I said about Jerry accusing us of disrupting his dogs? So we are waiting until tomorrow to cut down on the chaos. Hopefully she won't be as sick... she said she had not thrown up any- just that famous chemo nausea.
Just for humor purposes- that time Baxter ate blue jeans and Jerry googled the fastest he's ever googled to avoid another ER Vet visit. Hydrogen peroxide will make your dog vomit if you're quick enough- and he was. Puppy time was not a happy pup... This is how I will compare Patty's chemo treatments and how she's feeling.
When each earthly brace falls under,
And life seems a restless sea,
Are you then a God-held wonder,
Satisfied and calm and free?
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