This morning, I found myself wishing that I was anywhere else but there… in that sterile environment, awaiting my turn at the scan machine. The milky cocktail I was given to drink (at least a quart by my estimation) messed with my stomach, more so with my mind. The “IV”? Just another reminder to me that pricks and pokes and prods will be the order of the day for the season to come.And it was cold. And I was shivering… even through the two layers of warm blankets kindly extended to me by the radiologist.
Tears found their way down my cheeks on several occasions, and when I went into the round doughnut to play “dead” for at least forty minutes, my arms were strapped to my side. I had to remind my radiologist of my recent double-mastectomy that currently limits my range of motion. Holding my arms in the normal posture (over my head) was out of the question, thus the large velcro binding that fastened them to my side. And while I know in my head that this is nothing compared to what is coming in just a few days, it all felt too much, too scary, too “out-of-the-way” for the path that I’m on.
And I wished that it was over. All of it. That, perhaps, I could skip this “layer” and let my heart “catch up with the last layer” before moving on. That what is would quickly morph into what was and that my life didn’t have to walk this particular bend in the road.
But then ten o’clock arrived. Needles were removed; warmth re-established; hunger abated by a cookie at the cancer lounge before my departure. And I was thankful for the finish, for completing this layer and for its finishing work in me. I’m not keen on repeating it, but something tells me it’s now woven into my story and should it require an encore somewhere down the road, it will hold less mystery and more normalcy for my pilgrim heart.
Thanks for your prayers. Thanks for allowing your heart to walk this layer with me. I want to leave you with a beautiful “gift” my Uncle Bill gave to me this week… another poem! Laura, I know you’re laughing out loud, because you know my penchant for poetry in general. But this one is special—written from a tenderness and depth of understanding that pulls at my pain while alleviating it… all in the same breath.
What layers are you living this day, my good, kind, and compassionate friends?
Live them with the end in mind. As always…
Peace for the journey,
~elaine
Layers –
whether it’s a cake
or a life,
layers.
Time takes time
to do its thing,
layers.
Chapters, changes,
just-around-the-corner
challenges,
layers.
Sometimes they stack up
too fast, too high,
and when we try to peel them back
the new ones get in the way,
layers.
Lord, please hold the next one –
I would like to catch up
with the last one.
I’m lost in the
layers.
From a far,
the strata of my life is textured
with beautiful pain
that cries me to sleep
into a perfect dream,
a dream of
layers,
of colors that will not quit,
of sound and scent
that usher me toward the Holy
and helps me lean into the morning,
into the
layers
of a new day
where awareness whispers
My gratitude is greater than my pain,
my attitude is whole, and I shall remain…
Elaine – now and forevermore –
layered with a joyous childhood,
enriched through study,
toughened by circumstance,
blessed with romance,
fulfilled by family,
and completed by faith –
yes, I am Faith Elaine Killian Woods Olsen,
and don’t you forget it!
In those five names,
there are enough
layers
to carry me for a thousand years.
{written by Bill Killian, Sr.
a poem for Elaine Olsen, my niece
Sunday, September 19, 2010}
