I wasn’t
satisfied, so I did something I don’t necessarily recommend, but which turned
out to really help. I looked up the term
he gave me on the internet and found that it didn’t just FAVOR a pre-cancerous
condition, it actually WAS a pre-cancerous condition. Now maybe that just sounds like splitting
hairs to you and you’re wondering why I didn’t put that together in my head –
but this was MY body and MY brain trying to absorb the news and I didn’t get it
until I saw it on the internet. After
all the internet is ALWAYS right, right?
J
Armed with
the information, between the time the doctor gave me that news and the time I
had the surgical procedure, I’d had time to accept the fact that I just might
have to have the thing OUT before it became actually cancerous.
During the
procedure biopsies were taken and I was told the results would be in in 3-4
days. Well, they weren’t, and it seems they
never are when we’re waiting for potentially life changing news. So I waited an entire week without
hearing. I lost some sleep, I lost some
peace of mind, and I played some mental ping pong. “No news is good news.”, I told myself,
except when I told myself that not hearing must mean BAD news!
I remember
when the call I had been waiting for finally came. It was the last day of summer camp for my
granddaughter Emma, who was 7 at the time, and we were at this great day camping
place in New York State where there was food and games and Emma could swim with
her friends. I had a great day in the
sun doing some needle work, and chatting with other parents and grandparents,
periodically checking my cell phone, which never rang, just in case THAT day
would be THE day.
Around 3 PM
we boarded the buses to go home and then the calls, which hadn’t reached me
before because we were in the woods, set my phone buzzing like mad! The first message didn’t bode well. It was from the doctor’s nurse telling me to
contact the office immediately for an urgent message. That message was followed by a few other
equally urgent sounding messages from the doctor’s office. I called back right away but by then the
doctor had left and was actually on his way to a vacation in Cape Cod and would
call me himself with the results. More
gut wrenching waiting! It’s the worst,
isn’t it?
I will never
forget that particular weekend in August because for weeks we’d been planning a
long weekend away in Pennsylvania with our daughters, their husbands and our
granddaughter. If this was bad news, and
it obviously was, it could ruin the weekend we had all been anticipating. So, while waiting for the doctor’s call, I
decided that whatever it was, we would not tell the girls until the end of the
weekend. So Jim and I packed up the car
and with dampened spirits, headed out to Pennsylvania.
And then the
phone rang, not even a mile from the house.
I already anticipated the gravity of the diagnosis, but still the words
sent shock waves through me – “I’m so sorry to have to tell you this Mrs.
Elwood, but you have cancer.” I could
see Jim’s face go white as a sheet as he drove and I listened to the rest of
what the doctor had to say. I would need
a hysterectomy as soon as possible but we wouldn’t know the extent of the
cancer until after the surgery.
The doctor
was on vacation but, bless his heart, he had already taken the liberty to
schedule the surgery for that Wednesday, and he would return from Cape Cod for
a person to person consult with him, and pre-surgery testing for Tuesday.
It seems
crazy now, but the first thing I remember feeling was relief that we wouldn’t
have to cancel our plans with the kids. And
then the fear set in. How bad was this
going to turn out to be? Was I facing
the start of end of my life? I could see
the impact of this news on Jim’s face and my heart went out to him. When we stopped for sandwiches to eat on the
way I can remember saying something to him about how we were going to trust the
Lord in this and not give way to fear, all bluster for his benefit, because I
was scared to death!
The start of
the Bible Study Fellowship year was just about a week and a half away and as
the teaching leader, I was responsible for conducting an all day training
session for our class leaders, so I started making phone calls – to the area
advisor who would have to do the workshop for me, to other leaders who would
pray for me, to family members who were waiting with me for the test results.
And then
something happened that can only be explained as a supernatural working of the
Holy Spirit - faith kicked in and with it peace filled me, the kind of peace
that settles like a blanket and immediately calms the heart and mind. I was definitely afraid of all the unknowns
ahead, but at the same time I was suddenly also confident in the Lord. The Lord was with me, He knew this was
happening and He knew the outcome. I
could trust Him, for myself and for my family.
I had
decided that I would say nothing to the family until Monday, our last day in
Pennsylvania and amazingly, the Holy Spirit kept me so completely at peace that
I enjoyed every single minute of our time - in the pool, playing mini golf,
having meals, and spending a day at Hershey Park. Every morning before anyone else was up, I headed
out to a cozy, quiet place in the lobby and spent time reading God’s Word and
praying. Those times with the Lord were amazingly
calming.
On the day
we went to Hershey Park I had a call from the hospital arranging my
pre-operative testing and one of the girls overheard, so I had to tell, a day
before I wanted. And it did change the
remainder of our time together. The fun
was over for them, and fear and anxiety set in.
It’s funny to think back on it now because everyone else was upset while
I was at rest in the grace of God so I was doing the comforting!
The next few
days went by in a blur. The day of the
surgery everyone was with me beforehand.
I would be out for what lay ahead, but they’d spend an anxious time
waiting for the doctor to come with the results. And when he came, they were good. The cancer had not broken through the
abdominal wall, and in the end, I wouldn’t even need chemo or radiation
treatments.
I don’t know
when exactly a specific Scripture struck me, but when it did, it was from the
gospel of John, chapter 11 where it says:
Lazarus, brother of
Jesus’ friends Mary and Martha was sick and the sisters sent for Him saying:
“Lord, the one you love is sick.” When
the servant arrived with the message, Jesus heard it and said: “This sickness will
not end in death. No, it is for God’s
glory, so that God’s Son may be glorified through it.”
That’s how I
felt about the cancer that I had and then just as suddenly, didn’t have. God didn’t plan for it to lead to death, but
to glory, His glory, so that Jesus might be glorified through it.
And I hope
He was. I hope that when others marveled
at the incredible peace they saw in me they knew it was Jesus, the Prince of
Peace, pouring out His grace on His child.
One day I will
receive a diagnosis for a sickness that will end in death. On that day, I trust that the grace and peace
of Jesus will be just as evident in and through me, settling my fears with the
comfort of His presence. I hope that on
that day what will be remembered is the love of Jesus for His child and He will
be lifted up and GREATLY glorified.
“I eagerly expect and hope that I
will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as
always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me, to live is Christ and to die is
gain.” The Apostle Paul, Phillipians 1:20-21
