by Donna Poole
I was just a thought of God, four years from being born, when Bing Crosby crooned “Swinging on a Star” in 1944. I loved singing that song as a kid; I especially liked the verse about the pig. I giggled when I sang,
Or would you like to swing on a star
Carry moonbeams home in a jar
And be better off than you are
Or would you rather be a pig?
A pig is an animal with dirt on his face
His shoes are a terrible disgrace
He has no manners when he eats his food
He’s fat and lazy and extremely rude
But if you don’t care a feather or a fig
You may grow up to be a pig.
I little guessed then that when I became an old lady, I’d want to be a pig. . .a guinea pig that is.
A guinea pig isn’t really a pig; it’s a rodent. Though not often used now for scientific experiments, guinea pigs were common subjects from the seventeenth through part of the twentieth centuries. They played an important role in medical research; in 1890 scientists used them to find the antitoxin for diphtheria, and who knows how many millions of lives that spared?
Since 1920 “guinea pig” has been a metaphor for anyone involved in a scientific experiment, and now I hope to be one.
Don’t be alarmed, I’m sane, well as sane as I ever was. I’m not off my rocker yet. That’s another fascinating idiom, don’t you think? It’s been around since the late 1800’s and may have originated with the idea of an older person being so unstable that he or she fell out of the rocking chair.
So, why do I aspire to be a rodent? Doctor K, my chemotherapy oncologist at University of Michigan hospital hopes to get me accepted into a drug trial called BiTE. It’s only in its second phase so the study is far from complete, but it looks promising for people with certain cancers, including lymphoma, that stubbornly resist other treatments.
Doctor K showed me my latest PET scan. He doesn’t think radiation helped; he thinks Morticia, my stubborn lung tumor looks bigger than ever. Since I’m considered chemo and radiation resistant, treatment options are limited.
He told me about the drug trial. “If I were you, I’d go for it,” he said.
I hope they accept me into the trial. I haven’t heard yet. So once again, we wait; we pray, and we live each day God gives us. This is the God who loves each one of us as though He had only one to love, the God who calls each star by name.
I don’t know if this new drug will help me or not; if it doesn’t, maybe my participation will help someone who comes after me who also has a stubborn Morticia.
I’ve done a bit of research about BiTE, and our daughter, Kimmee, and I were discussing some of the not so pleasant side-effects.
“I hope I don’t get the bloat,” I said.
Kimmee laughed so hard she could barely talk. “Mom! All these horrible side-effects and all you can say is you hope you don’t get the bloat?”
Yep. That’s it. I’d like to swing on a few more stars, be better off than I “are,” see some more beautiful springs, and sit around many more crackling campfires with family and friends. To do that, I’ll be a pig, guinea that is.
But I don’t want the bloat. Said tongue-in-cheek—that idiom you can look up yourself.
Thank you for walking all these backroads with me, and happy spring!
It’s a pleasure walking these backroads with you! God wants you to continue blessing your multitude of friends with these blessed stories you crank out every week! I get so excited when I see your name… and, a new story.
Judy, thanks for walking with me and singing your own song! God bless!
Donna Lynn and I really appreciate your words. God BLESS you and keep you and all the family as well. We have enjoyed traveling down these Backroads with you immensely.
Joe and Lynn, let’s keep walking each other Home! God bless!
So funny! I remember singing that song many, many times! And I have prayed for your healing many, many times! Whatever our Lord chooses to use is great- but I hate for you to endure to terrible side effects. So, I’ll pray many more times! Love you! Psalm 34
Donna, my young old friend, I still haven’t thrown my ring out the window, so all is well. Thank you for your prayers! Sending love from John and me to Bob and you!
Donna, you certainly have way with words. I so enjoy your stories! Sending prayers for new journey.
Thank you, Bonnie! God bless you as you walk your roads!
Hi Donna…. I happily walking, along the back roads with you. 😊🚶
And you already are, a star and in many ways..
You are, a star within your family… Who awe you say by day cope with discomfort… And still you smile.
You are a star regarding your church family…. for you shine The love of God yo all there.
You are a star to your readers.. From. Your books to your Facebook page… Again you tell it as it is…. But in your shining way… That gives others HOPE!!
And you shine like, A STAR to me….. In my daily life
Tha k you for being such a special loving star. Hugs
Jennifer, my friend across the pond, thank you for your prayers and encouragement. Let’s keep walking each other Home!
And if you get the bloat, Kimmel will find you some yoga pants with pigs on them! Hang in there and keep filling our buckets with your ramblings. God bless!
Mary Morgan, you made me laugh! I’d look bad enough in yoga pants without the bloat! You have a way with words. Ever think about being a writer? (For anyone else reading this, Mary is a rather famous writer. Check her out on Amazon!) God bless!
And I hope there’s many more backroads to walk with you.
I hope so too, Debbie. Thanks for walking them with me. God bless you!
Thank you for sharing your latest update, as well as making us chuckle at the same time. I understand your desire to skip “the bloat.” I also like Mary’s suggestion above, about getting some yoga pants with little pigs on them. Perhaps they could be Flying Pigs – those always make me smile. There’s another idiom to research: “I won’t be doing that until pigs fly! No way! No how!” You are daily in my thoughts and prayers, dear Donna. May our loving Heavenly Father and our precious Lord Jesus keep you ever aware of the joys and beauty of your back road ramblings.
I love flying pigs! Thank you for your prayers, Deborah!