AND NOW FOR THE LUNACY PART. . .

MS. PAC-MAN RIDES AGAIN!

First off, let me say that I am DEFINITELY NOT a video game aficionado; my kids are. Once the games got past the skill set needed for Tetris and Mario Kart, I was outta there. (And I’m not very good at Mario Kart either!) However, I have been going to the gym daily in an attempt to get stronger for when Ray needs me after whatever he is going to do to fight this cancer. I have my own medical issues. I am in pretty good basic health, all things considered, but was left with some mobility problems. So strength training is a must if I want to be a full and Godly help-meet for him.

So there I was, kicking some serious tushy at the gym and, as frequently happens, my mind started to wander. As usual, I was thinking about hubby’s cancer. It sorta kinda occupies my thoughts these days. I’m not petrified or even really scared anymore. I guess I’m just somewhat nervous about it. So even though I should be taking it a bit easier on the torture devices. . . ooops, I mean gym equipment. . . I was really pushing it hard.

All of a sudden, I am seeing black spots before my eyes. HUH? I grab for my pulse. It was right where it should be for that level of activity. What gives? The spots increase. Now I’m really seeing things. UH-OH, they're growing legs!!! By now, I’m pretty sure I’m not getting enough oxygen so I start slowing down my pace, but . . . oh, no, they’re looking back at me!

They’re taunting me, laughing at me, coming after me. Now I know something really bizarre is going on or present circumstances have totally pushed me off my rocker. . . provided I had one to begin with. I inch closer to the evil things and then it hits me. These aren’t some freaked-out floaters in my line of sight. They’re not little spiders coming at me from the woods surrounding our home in some warped day mare. These are. . . RAY’S CANCER CELLS!!! Well, honeeeeeeeeee. . . now I’m mad. I turn into Ms. Pac-Man and attack! I start gobbling them up. I start beating them up. I start tearing them up. I’m all over those things with every inch of my being! How dare they attack the one I love!!! I’m gonna show them a thing or two!

Then, as I’m having a grand old time in super destruction mode, out of nowhere comes a huge, black gun. It’s big and heavy. I can barely lift it. Still, I drop into a proper crouch position and heft it onto my shoulder. Looks like just the perfect thing for a little wholesale slaughter on those cancer cells, which, by the way, are still coming at me, mocking me, laughing at me, threatening me, my husband, my family. I pull the trigger. BOOM! The recoil almost knocks me down. But then. . . where’s the ammo? HUH? Who gives someone a gun with no ammo? (Even in a fantasy this is a big no-no.) Is this a bad joke, only a bad dream after all? I still have cancer cells to kill. I NEED AMMO!!! And then, floating above me, I see the ammo. . . only it wasn’t a bullet, it was a prayer! The word “prayer” comes flying out of the gun. It lands on one of those black, ugly, disgusting things from the pit of hell. The black thing goes up in a blaze of glory, shrieking as it literally gets smoked out of existence. Now THIS is fun! I quick grab up the gun again and start firing as fast as I can. I’m really gaining on them now. I am thoroughly enjoying the insane shrieks every time I hit one and how their creepy bodies writhe as they go up in smoke. TAKE THAT!!! AND THAT!!! AND SOME MORE!!! It was like the original Batman show of my teens. . . SLAM!!! SPLAT!!! KNOCKOUT!!! KAPOW!!!! I actually see the words in the comic bubbles, just like on that old TV show.

I drop the gun and start chasing the few that remain. I am simply gonna jump on them, beat the snot right outta them and finish the job. NO MORE CANCER!!! WOO HOO!!! And then I feel a tap on my shoulder. “Hey, leave me alone, I’m havin’ some righteous fun here!!!” I feel it again. My eyes snap open and. . . the lady next to me is wanting to know if I’m going to move off the machine so she can use it. Then, as she tries to giggle quietly into her hand, she asks me, “What did that machine do to you?” What's she talking about? She says, “It sure looked like you were trying to kill it from over here.” She giggles some more as I sheepishly climb down off the machine so she can have a go at it. It is only then that I realize I have been fighting Ray’s cancer cells in my mind. It was a very real and colorful visualization, albeit a humorous one. It had to be humorous. That’s how I handle everything, by laughing. If not, I’ll start crying. The laughter keeps some of the pain away. Ray always says that life is way too important to waste it taking it too seriously. He’s right. :)

I finish my workout. I am assured I will not be barred from the gym, despite my attempt at destroying their equipment. They know what I’m going through. They are all supportive. It’s a God thing. However, they did request that I post the following disclaimer, for future reference:

PLEASE NOTE: NO GYM EQUIPMENT WAS HARMED IN THE WRITING OF THIS BLOG POST!