I bet you’ve been wondering why.

Dear Readers:
I have missed all of you. I have missed your comments, your emails and your encouragement.

I bet you’ve been wondering why this lady who is normally an avid poster has been so silent this week. Or maybe not. Either way, it has grieved me to not share new recipes, new projects and my thoughts with all of you.

Here is the “why” behind my silence.

See this naughty little white girl? She has been a pain in my butt.

It’s been doing this a lot. A LOT.

I think I heard it cough once or twice and sputter something out about “I’ve had a good life…”. Seriously. My little computer was in a bad way.

(Photo Source)
Apparently, I only have one of these on my computer and I need at least a family of four.

I’m waiting patiently for it to arrive by mail. So, I’m keeping my time on this old girl to a minimum.

I hope you can handle a few days’ more of Rebekah’s quietness. I know it’ll be tough, but I’m sure you are tougher and can push through.

Sincerely yours-

Rebekah.

Today, I rest.

Yesterday, during the lecture portion of my Bible Study, it began to happen. I got that horrible itchy feeling in the back of my throat that I tried to ignore.

If I let it have its way, it would turn into a full-fledged, coughing-up-a-lung, hack-fest. Since I was sitting on the fourth row of the sanctuary, I didn’t want to make a scene racing for the bathroom-and so, I held my ground. I suppressed the urge with a new piece of gum and a few tears.

Of course, being the idiot that I am-I kept going with my day. I had errands to run, Christmas cards to get out, dinner to make, lunch to pack, laundry to do and leaves to rake.

By the end of the night last night, I was hugging the throne and upchucking all that I had just ingested for dinner. But, it was just one small puke. I’m not sick, I said to myself.

This morning, I was not convinced to take the day off-just look at this list of to-do’s. And these are just the things I know I’ll forget if I don’t have them written down. They don’t include studying, doing the laundry, making Christmas present, vacuuming rugs, prepping dinner or any of my other daily chores.

But, on the way back from dropping Biceps off this morning, I nearly had to pull over to upchuck the piece of toast consumed for breakfast. Toast is not tasty the second go around and I wasn’t having it. Ick.

I made it home in time to puke in my personal toilet, called my Mommy (because who else truly cares when you’re sick but your Mommy?) and after a quick prayer, crawled into bed.

This is where I’ll probably stay until I pick up Biceps this afternoon.

Or until Crossfit.

Today, I rest.

How my faith can be tested.

We’ve had Maxwell for a little over 8 months. He’s the craziest, most rambunctious cat that I’ve ever owned. He loves to charge at things without a real plan and attack whatever may be in his way.

His blue eyes tend to get him out of a lot of trouble.

I’ve become so accustomed to him screeching around the house at 90 m.p.h., that I no longer think there’s a boogie man in my house at 2 a.m. I know it’s just this guy blowing off steam.

He also rests at 90 m.p.h.. It’s either full-on tackle mode for him or full on sleepy-mode, complete with whisker twitches, weird lip movements and tiny noises as he dreams.

I am fully in love with him-which was hard to do after we lost my buddy of eight years, Cowboy.

I’ve opened my heart to him and can’t imagine my life without this little bugger.

Two days ago, he started laying around and wasn’t eating. He threw up three times and made horrible sounds before he did so. I decided to take him to the vet and we found out he had a 105 degree temperature (4 degrees above normal for a kitten). He then received an antibiotic and a anti-nausea shot, which is presently at work in his tiny little body.

Here’s the thing. I’m going to be real. I don’t know if I can handle doing all of this again. It broke my heart to give Cowboy almost daily IV’s and watch as his body wasted away. Losing him was extremely difficult for me. I didn’t understand why God didn’t heal him. I know God cares, I know he’s faithful, I know he’s good. I still ask “why” from time to time.

I know it’s just a cat to most of you and to the rest of the world, but he’s become my little sidekick. I hate to see him in pain and I miss his rambunctious ways. We need your prayers, blogosphere-him for healing and me for peace and understanding. Thank you!

Defeated, Pampered and Waving the White Flag

I hate being sick-show me someone who likes it and I’ll show you a first grader trying to get out of a spelling bee. And I hate taking medicine. Taking medication is almost like admitting defeat to me-plus, it usually leaves me very wigged out-tired, dizzy and nauseous.

So, I do everything that I can naturally before I start to pop those pills–hot baths, eating foods like blueberries and oranges, steam inhalation, chiropractic adjustments and prayer (usually with a lot of begging involved).

But, when the coughing, hacking, mucus, and muscle aches get to be too much for me to just “tough it out”, I wave the white flag and call my doctor. His first question is usually, “WHY DIDN’T YOU CALL ME SOONER?!”, and I make up some lame excuse that we both know he’s not buying.

Due to some unknown infectious carrier that contaminated my otherwise holy immune system, these four items have been my BFF’s for the last week. (Well, these, my bed, hulu and my favorite yellow Ponca City t-shirt.)

The one upside to being sick is the amazing amount of clout that I have to eat my favorite snacky foods. Biceps runs to the store at the drop of a hat, so carefully I make my requests known all at once.

This is one of my favorites when my throat is scratchy and stomach is upset. My mother instilled in me that this was a miracle food (it’s not) and that it’s good for me (it’s not). But, it does make me feel better…

Oh, dear. These salty, cheesy, little whales are heaven. Add a glass of red wine and you have a classy evening ahead of you.

When my stomach is really upset, this is all that I can stand to eat…simple and good.

This is a new treat for me. I could only eat half of the can-meaning Biceps reaped all the leftover rewards. He is one lucky man.

And finally-my “vegetables”. So dang good.

I am on the upswing of whatever it was that I had, and I lovingly shared this infectious nastiness with Biceps. He is in the final days of recovery himself. The weird thing is, he never needs any “treats”. He wants to eat oatmeal, oranges and drink healthy smoothies. Doesn’t he realize this is his one chance to get out of the guilt associated with aforementioned treats? Geesh. Men….