The next person who says, “God only gives you what you can handle” is going to get an earful, even if that is The Man Himself.

I came home Friday from school not feeling well. I wanted to be certain I wasn’t putting James at any additional risk, so I took a home COVID test when I got home and it came back negative. But, I was worse overnight, so I isolated myself and scheduled an “official” test at Walgreens on Sunday. And, because my plate apparently appeared to have some empty spots on it, it came back positive.

So far, James hasn’t had any COVID symptoms. He was tested as well and it came back negative, but his oncologist had him take the PCR version today to be certain of the negative diagnosis (it would, after all, make quite a difference to the man undergoing immunotherapy,) and so we await those results, but at least so far, he seems to be symptom free (that’s really hard to say with any authority as COVID symptoms and the side effects of his treatment have many similarities) but, he has at least one semi-official test say he is negative.

I have have lived in the guest room for the past four days. Up until today, I have barely gotten out of bed. I have never been more sick in my life or felt more miserable (well, other than when I was four days past due with Jacob, but that’s a whole ‘nother kind of miserable.) Today, I seemed to have rejoined the land of the living. I even checked on the girls in the coop and I think they were genuinely surprised to see me.

For now, James’ next treatment is still a go for Tuesday (every two weeks), but that would change if he has a positive diagnosis. The way I see it, God can allow me to have the damn COVID virus and I’ll take it, but if he allows it to affect James, That Man and I are going to have some very serious words.

Two years ago, perhaps even to the day, James was diagnosed with COVID. That’s all the way back to what felt like “the beginning” of the pandemic. We were scared out of our wits. With the exception of one night when his breathing was worrisome, he came through it unscathed. Looking back now, as worried as we were then, we had no idea what would be in store for us in the upcoming months. A year later, just about this time, he found out he had melanoma. And now, here we sit, praying that he doesn’t have both at the same time.

My plate, Lord, is quite full. Quite. We could sure go for a large helping of grace and miracles, though.