"Be Strong And Of Good Courage"

Here’s why there hasn’t been a posting since March 31st:

Writing about getting scary health news on April Fool’s Day would have been so clichéd, I’d have made myself puke. So I decided to wait until my nerves settled and I had plenty of time to ponder what the experience meant. Now, I’m ready to resume blog mode with a post about the scary health news I got on April Fool’s Day.

You see, I was standing in the checkout line at the local Giant Supermarket minding my own business, trying to buy some raisin bread and ginger ale, when my Bluetooth earpiece started buzzing. It was a cheery-voiced woman named Vicki, from my OB/GYN office. She just wanted to let me know that the Pap smear I’d had back in late February, before heading to Nigeria, had come back positive for the presence of HPV. And because a positive HPV test can indicate cervical cancer, Vicki chirped, they wanted me to come in for something called a colposcopy, so they could collect some cervical cell samples to biopsy.

Now, I’ve survived Northern Uganda, which toughened my hide considerably. I’ve survived losing my beloved sister-mother Julie--and 3 other immediate family members--all in fairly rapid succession. And I’ve survived lizards crawling up and down my freakin’ walls every day and every night. In other words, I have earned the title of “Warrior Woman Supreme.” There’s not a whole lot that scares me these days.

But I gotta admit, I have never in my entire life felt as scared and alone as I did when that call ended. Never. I’m not talking just worried, or anxious. I wasn’t just feeling stressed or perplexed. I was as frightened as a 5 year old waking up alone on an empty school bus. I started shaking. My knees wobbled, which probably made me look like I was drunk as I headed to the Giant parking lot. While I sat there clutching my steering wheel, the only sound I heard was like the roar of the ocean, and it kept building, and building. Bright spots flashed in my eyes, and I almost passed out.

So much for the Warrior Woman motif, huh? Even though I’ve written a few times that death would be a no-lose proposition for me, because I’d get to see Julie again, all of a sudden , I found myself praying to Julie to just wait a few more years--say 30 or 40. We will have a blast when I do see you again, girlfriend, but just be patient. I guess being with Julie when she passed had the dual effect of toughening me up and scaring the bejeezus out of me at the same time. I know what cancer looks like now, and I ain’t trying to go out like that, at least no time soon. There’s still too much I want to do. Like go on at least one more date.

Anyway, I was able to schedule the colposcopy quickly, within 2 days of that phone call. The nurse practicioner who wielded the medieval, uterus-scraping torture instruments during the humiliating, legs-to-the ceiling procedure assured me my test indicated only a mild level of HPV, much closer to normal than abnormal. She said they were only doing the colposcopy to confirm that I was okay. That calmed me down considerably, but I’d still have to wait a week and a half for the biopsy results to know for sure.

To make a long, emotionally harrowing story short, the test came back okay. Nothing to worry about, I was told. Just come back next year for your regularly scheduled Pap.

Piece o’ cake. Except for the part where I had to acknowledge that instead of being completely indomitable, as I’ve been billing myself of late, in the clinches I’m actually quite able to behave like a sniveling weasel. I know, I’m probably being too hard on myself. It’s just that I felt really embarrassed about how scared I was. Especially since for at least the past 5 years, I have made the following Bible verse my official mantra:

“Be strong and of good courage. Be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed. For the Lord thy God is with thee, withersoever thou goest.” Joshua 1:9

I tell you, I’ve found myself in so many scary situations over the past 5 years, I’d have gone stark raving mad if I didn’t believe that a force greater than me is active in my life. I’ve stepped out on faith so many times that if some power called God, The Universe, Higher Power, or the Archangel Julie hadn’t been guiding me, I’d have been roadkill on the Highway of Life a long time ago. There’s a reason I’m still here, and a reason I keep doing what I do…..jetting off to Africa, gnawing on goat meat, cringing in shithole lodgings, courting malaria constantly.

Actually, there are several reasons. One is that doing journalism training in Africa gives my life meaning. It makes me feel like I’m making a difference in the world. Another reason is that I’m convinced a force greater than me is with me always, protecting me from my own naivete and hapless good intentions while I’m out there trying to make a difference in the world. It’s really the only thing that makes sense to me.

It also helps me keep my sniveling weasel episodes to a minimum. I’m definitely gonna need every drop of strength and good courage I possess next week. You see, I’m headed back to my hometown of Cairo, Illinois to give a speech. But that’s not what I’ll need courage for. I’ll also be visiting my sister Julie’s grave for the first time.

I think I’m up for it.