Living
Today marks seven weeks that I’ve been out on disability; what once was my every-day now feels so far away. I have not been sitting around eating bon-bons like Kevin feared, though. My days have been full. I traveled to Richmond, DC, and Florida and gave three speeches to raise awareness about metastatic breast cancer, as well as my current treatment with the new drug Ibrance. The Richmond paper wrote an article about one of my events: http://www.richmond.com/life/health/article_f7701d7a-fcab-55e2-8d3c-64859a8aa26c.html
I joined in the celebration of numerous family birthdays, as well as a surprise party for a dear friend’s 40th. I fostered a dog until she found her, as we rescuers like to call it, "fur-ever" home.
I joined in the celebration of numerous family birthdays, as well as a surprise party for a dear friend’s 40th. I fostered a dog until she found her, as we rescuers like to call it, "fur-ever" home.
I accompanied my niece to the hospital to have her tonsils and adenoids taken out and cared for her at my house afterwards.
I went to a Rwandan bridal shower.
Kevin and I hosted my parents for Thanksgiving.
As you can see, my time hasn’t been idle. I’ve been living life.
And having cancer. That bugger. While it may seem like I’ve been busy, my energy has actually been at its lowest to date. Doing something like traveling to give a speech exhausts me and takes several days to recover from. Even hanging out in the waiting room while London had her surgery took a big toll.
I don’t say these things because I want people to feel bad for me or that I “sacrificed” to be there for these events. I say them because there is a common misconception that you have to look sick to be sick.
And that’s not just something people with cancer deal with; people with fibromyalgia, Lyme’s disease, etc. have expressed feeling the same way. You just never know what someone else is going through.
I also had some scans last week. These are always anxious times for me, and since my back pain has increased lately, I was especially nervous. In addition, my doctor decided to deviate from our usual bone scan every three months, CT scan every six, and ordered the CT this time, too. And I hadn’t even told him about the increased pain. My mind immediately thought that my doctor must also suspect something was wrong, even though I had just had a very positive appointment where he said how well I was doing. All the positivity from my appointment – gone – because of something that was probably completely inconsequential.
I don’t think healthcare providers understand the enormous magnitude of their influence on patients. I was nervous for weeks, wondering why we were deviating from the plan to add an extra scan. And then, on the day of my scans, when the radiology tech saw me out, I thought I saw her avert her eyes when she said, “Goodbye and good luck.” Did she see something on my scan? Is she saying “good luck” because she thinks I’ll need it? I instantly worried. Healthcare providers, we see every move you make and, in our egocentrism, assume it somehow relates to us.
When I didn’t get a call with my results right away, I worried that the reason for the delay was that my doctor had to call rather than my nurse, because he is the one who relays bad news. And when I heard his voice on the other end of the phone when I got that much-awaited call four days later, my stomach dropped. But he was just as cheery as could be, calling to tell me that my scan results looked great. Whew! If only he knew how much anxiety he had just alleviated!
I know God holds my every tomorrow but I also don’t know what that tomorrow holds. While I ultimately rest in His sovereign hand, the “great unknown” has always been difficult for me. I live in the tension of faith and my humanity. These lyrics come to mind as I write this: “When darkness seems to hide His face, I rest on His unchanging grace. In every high and stormy gale, my anchor holds within the vale. His oath, His covenant, His blood, support me in the whelming flood. When all around my soul gives way, He then is all my hope and stay.” There will be darkness, high and stormy gales, overwhelming floods, and the world crashing in all around me, but yet – He is there.
But that is not right now. Right now is full and happy and resting and good scan results. Praise God.
WOW! I needed to read this post today! Really puts in perspective my daily anxieties! Thank you for sharing! Goint to save your blog site to my home page!!
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