The Birds and the Bees and the MRI

It was kind of a weird day around our residence as Bob and I fought off a case of a cold, allergies, boredom or self-pity. Thank goodness for my Good Morning Girls or I might still be rolling around in my bed. It’s one of those days when I don’t feel good, but I don’t really feel bad either.

We went to the hospital for Bob to have his scheduled MRI. It hopefully will prove that he has a brain. According to the doctors, they will use the results to help determine how best to aid his battle in maintaining his figure and his memory. The whole idea is eerie when you realize people are examining your brain’s ability to work. I had many of the same tests when the origins of my migraines and vertigo were trying to be obtained up at Mayo. I feared that I had bombed the one memory test, but I had actually done quite well “for a woman of my age.” I’m still a little unsure about the qualifier, but the psychologist was smiling when she said it. Facing our limitations and faults is not an easy task. Along with an ok memory “for a woman my age,” God gave me a healthy dose of vanity and a strong defensive attitude. Bob and I will work through any physical or mental problem thrown at us; we’ve been doing that for a while now. It’s just really hard to see the person you love so much be the victim of all the tests. It’s just one more discussion topic I’ll bring up with God tonight.

One of the remarkable aspects of today occurred when we made it home. As I walked by our largest saltwater tank, I noticed that the pair of black clowns had been listening to the birds and the bees while we were gone. They had just begun the process of procreation. That’s a long word for a romantic escapade. Mama Fishy was in labor, and Daddy Fishy was just swimming around going crazy. How fascinating to watch the female lay eggs while the male followed spreading sperm over the small fry. You could see the size of the “nursery” for the orange eggs grow while the two fish frenzied to complete what they had begun. Their fins were wiggling faster than my head spins. The process was long, taking more than an hour. It was amazing to see their large carpet anemone pull back to allow room for the fresh caviar while curling up when any fish dared to swim too closely. I was able to capture a great deal on my phone’s camera as I marveled at nature’s power. It just showed God’s presence in our family room as we dealt with our own medical worries.

Papa Fishy is now babysitting the eggs. He swishes his cute little tail and blows on his babies to keep them aerated. Mama Fishy is resting so unlike many of the mommas in real life. Their family structure is a little different than mine, but God’s hand is obvious in both our homes. They’ll soon take turns watching the kids, united in their efforts. I guess they sound more like Bob and I than I first realized.

God Uses Chronic Pain to Prove Life is Good: - My slower mobility has me notice God’s handiwork in more things around me. Thanks God for giving me a life that is so very good. By the way God, I have a couple of things I want to talk to you about.