Where was I? …oh…a doctor, whom I had never met before, told me I had the deadliest strain of an already deadly disease… Talk about the bitter icing on the mouldy cake that had been my life for the past year. Death… Death…Cancer.
What the hell did I do to deserve this? I mean…, I’m not perfect, but this?
You see, as different as we all are, this sentiment is pretty common. Why me? Instead of an answer what I have is another question. Why not you?
I realised, what I did or did not deserve was irrelevant. This is the hand I was dealt. Which lead me to another question; “what are you gonna do about it, curl up in a ball and die or FIGHT?” I decided to fight. If I died fighting…at least I tried.
Don’t misunderstand; this epiphany did not happen instantaneously. Remember, my first few weeks are a blur, that life changing meeting I had with the strange doctor is a blur. I am sure she used words like ‘carcinoma’ and she even staged the disease growing inside me but I can recall none of that. Our ‘conversation’ (if it can be called that) could have lasted from 10 minutes to an hour, I was so far gone I can’t say. I believe I had so many emotions vying for control at once my brain couldn’t handle it, so it simply shut down. Who wouldn’t be angry or sad or confused or resentful or ….?
So… after delivering the news to my husband and family and shedding many, many, many tears, I began to pray but my prayers were a little strange. I didn’t ask God to heal me; I asked Him to make sure that whatever happened, He alone would be glorified.
No, I’m not lying, I really did. I did not want to die but my head was still in the place where that was my likely outcome. Therefore, “God could not have allowed this to happen to me for no reason” “there has to be something greater at work so whatever it is to God be the glory.” However, as enlightened as I thought that was, it isn’t really different to curling up in a ball and dying is it? As believers, we tend to throw our hands in the air and say things like ‘God is in control’ and ‘God knows best’. While all of this is true, we have some measure of control over our lives and we must be willing to FIGHT for them.
How do we fight? The answer to that is different for each person. My fight was a combination of conventional medicine and faith. My doctors had a treatment plan in place; chemo -> surgery-> chemo-> radiation therapy.
I did my first round of chemo. I wouldn’t bother with the gory details, let’s just say; it wasn’t fun. I then continued on and had my first mastectomy. The lab results from the mass removed showed scar tissue and nothing more. There was no longer any cancerous cell present and my lymphatic system had not been engaged.
I am once again sitting in a doctor’s office waiting to hear results (my husband is present this time, as he never left me to attend these visits alone again; even now, six years later), but this time I hear; ‘you are NOT going to die.’ Now I have a decision to make…
Where do I go from here?