The Test is Now History

Well… I’m home now. They tell me I should consider this a recovery day… Carolyn drove me home. As I left the Surgery Center, they told me not to drive. If I got caught behind the wheel, they said, it would be a certain DUI. So I sat in the passenger seat – relieved and thankful.

As I regained consciousness, Dr. Bali told me that the one polyp discovered by Dr. May several months ago is all they found. The colonoscopy took the scope all the way up into that abysmal internal tunnel; no more polyps, I’m told. No suspicious evidence of any other complications. The test confirms that I’m basically healthy. The polyp got snipped and sent to the lab. The good doctor expressed her doubts that the tiny growth is cancerous; the biopsy will confirm that view. That will take some two weeks.

We’ve not talked a lot about this little sidetrack in our regular schedule, mainly because there is no real news here. I went in for a routine inspection with our family doctor last May. Guys my age should do this, I’ve been told for a decade or so. Sure enough, they found a tiny polyp – which is not a trigger for a declaration of war on cancer cells – but is a cause for concern and warrants more thorough testing. That’s what was scheduled for today.

For both procedures, the preparation is worse than the test. If you’ve been there, you know what I mean. If you haven’t, I’ll spare you the detail.

All to say that this morning, I’m feeling relieved and grateful. While I’m still a little foggy… after one of Carolyn’s first rate breakfasts and a cup of hot coffee, I’m sitting here with the laptop, feet up in a comfortable chair, filled up with gratitude that I’m done with this (at least for the next three years). I know people who are fighting the good fight… and after a day’s journey through the system, I’ve got just a little taste of what life is like in the world of sterile machines and monitors with graphs and beeps and needles and open-backed gowns and IVs and people buzzing around in royal blue scrubs and caps and white masks and badges and stethoscopes and pointless, muffled jabbering on the other side of a curtain as you lay there contemplating your eternal destiny.

It’s a world I rarely observe from a mattress and pillow inclined on a bed with rails… until today. The work of the anesthesiologist was a welcome exit as the beeping droned on in a darkened room and doctors snapped rubber gloves over their wrists and chattered on about the traffic on the 57 and then it all faded gently into a relaxation state one rarely finds unassisted by some sort of chemical.

It feels incredibly self-centered to be so thankful for good health. All God’s gifts are good and his blessing of grace extravagant. Somehow it’s just a little easier to feel it now that the doctor looked me in the eye with a smile and said, “looks like you are clear.” Not everyone gets that word. But there are other reasons to be thankful at a time like this; mainly people. Like my life-long partner, Carolyn. She’s there with me. And our kids… their spouses and their children. And then my colleagues in ministry and partners in Kingdom work and many friends who in their own way show how much they care.

It causes one to be humbled and grateful for God’s goodness; and the blessings of each new day.

So thank you for caring enough to read this little blog entry. I’ve got to add one more thing – some time ago, I committed Psalm 23 to memory. David’s words are inspired; and as I repeated it over and over again on that hospital bed, IV attached, eyes closed, surgical center clanging and chattering as ambient noise, I did indeed experience that peace that passes all understanding. My sister told me over the cell this morning that she would pray that I would know it… and I did.

Because the Lord is my Shepherd, I have everything that I need
He makes me lie down in green pastures
He leads me beside still waters
He restores my soul.
He leads me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil – for you are with me.
Your rod and your staff – they comfort me.
You prepare a table for me in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil. My cup overflows.
Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord
Forever.

It’s for real.

Thanks for your prayers and your friendship. It means more than I can say.

Ken

Dennis and Emily tie the knot

Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Butteris!

Watch the video. Enjoy. You'll hear Louis Armstrong... "Let's Fall in Love"... the song that played during the recessional as Dennis and Emily celebrated their new status as Mr and Mrs.

It was a terrific event.

Dennis and Emily at the River Hills Community Church

The rehearsal went well... it's a Hunerdosse family reunion. As you can see, Emily and Dennis are very happy. Today's the wedding. More to follow. More about Dennis and Emily.





Here's the bride with her sisters and Maid of Honor...

Festim Gashi - Visit to Festim's Family

Just prior to our week at English Camp in Shengjin, Albania, I visited Festim's family in their village about forty five minutes south of Pristina in Kosova. I've got a series of photos from that visit on the site. Also, if you aren't familiar with Festim's story, he wrote a compelling summary you can download.

The Gashi family welcomed me warmly. Check it out.