Strange Timing Always

Have you ever watched  Major Payne? 
"What we have here is a failure to communicate."
Maybe not my most favorite line from there, but a good one.
Trying to navigate this specialist system is just not as fun as let's say a corn maze, or a root canal for that matter.
So the surgeon's office was responsible for scheduling the Cardiac MRI. The surgeon told me last Wednesday that it would happen in  seven to ten days. 
Big Cat Daddy is the cardiologist and he specializes in having a nurse practitioner who is my teaching partner's friend and is about to  become my BFF. I'll just call her AngelCakes.  Big Cat Daddy is in charge of determining the blood thinner, but the Primary Person is in charge of seeing it through the insurance hoops.  Are you still with me?
So, by my recollection, which may or may not be trusted, it is day seven since the surgeon's message with no MRI date on my special, bought just for Handy Man, Psalms ( well that might have been for me) calendar.   So I look up the number of the office today and no one ever answers.  I return to my partner in crime-Google,  and low and behold find a second number for his office- disconnected.
Though I hated to drag her into to yet another thing that isn't really in her domain, I texted AngelCakes.  In a very short period of time I get a text from her that says, "They received the authorization yesterday, but said it could take up to 72 hours to schedule the appointment."  I quickly responded my thanks, which was sincere, but tacked on an additional message, since an ounce of sarcasm impedes a flood of tears. "Thanks so much. Guess it is good that he isn't critical.  Umm wait...."
Within the next hour I get another text- May 10.  Wish everyone had an AngelCakes.
So sixteen days is not ten days, but what are you going to do?
The timing is always interesting to me.  This year was a whole new state testing, that went on without me.  The MRI is on the day of our big Mother's Day Program that my fifth graders and I make treats and set up.  If you've read my blog much you know I've come to approach Veteran's Day with caution. Now it will be May.
One week and two days.  Still, we won't find out anything then. The person who oversees the MRI will have to go over it with the surgeon, then we'll be called in to hear the results.  The test is on Friday, so who knows when. Likely have to sing the blues to AngelCakes to get an answer. This waiting is unnerving.
Handy Man and I took a longer walk this evening, watching a big snake in the creek, checking out the neighbors.  He continues to look good, have a good appetite and is in better spirits today.

His sister brought supper when she came to visit. A sweet friend at work volunteered setting up a meal train.  I'm so glad for that technology.   I told her I'd like to wait on that.  This is quite a different experience from my usual critical care patients.  He isn't or hasn't been in pain, in a coma, on a vent, unable to as much as wipe his own nose, so since we've been home, cooking is a good distraction for me. Still, it is nice sometimes for supper to appear on your table.  I don't know how it will be if we have a big surgery. 

I've had a hard time reading, a hard time praying more than constant breath prayers.  Sometimes, a lot I guess, I read about four books a week.  All kinds.  I've always wanted to love poetry, but I just can never stick with it for long.  Mary Oliver is the exception.  Her writing is in one way plain and straightforward, but in another way, deep. 

From Devotions by Mary Oliver

Prayer

It doesn't have to be

the blue iris, it could be

weeds in a vacant lot, or a few

small stones; just

pay attention , then patch


a few words together and don't try

to make them elaborate, this isn't

a contest, but the doorway


into thanks, and a silence in which

another voice may speak.

Not a contest, a doorway into thanks, Wow
I'm thankful for the love and prayers being poured out on our behalf.
Thankful for a peaceful place and lovely weather to watch the world go.
Thankful for the hand I have to hold.