Then came the pathology reports. We waited a long time for those reports. In fact, after everything running like clockwork at MD Anderson, suddenly we felt ourselves waiting inordinately long hours. First, Gary, Kim and I waited three hours for a pre-op consultation. No problem – we just got giddy with Gary doing impersonations and Kim laughing so hard nothing came out of her but tears! Shooey…can you imagine what people were thinking as they passed by?
Situation – cancer patient waiting for surgery, laughing so
hard tears were streaming down her face.
Diagnosis – crazy as a bed bug!
Then on Monday morning, my surgery was scheduled for 10:30
a.m. I made sure to get to the hospital
a little early just in case. I was not
called until 3:00 p.m. During those 6
hours Gary did his best to make Kim laugh as I was busy intermittently holding
my breath (emotionally) and praying. I
felt like the proverbial nun, shushing the two of them, giving Gary dirty
looks, and finally taking him aside and having a talk. They were seriously as bad as school
children. Lord only knows what they did
after the “nun” was in the operating room.
I did notice a lot of the custodians and service personnel seemed to
have a familiar rapport with them as we walked down the halls afterwards.
So, yes, we had grown accustomed to long waits – and waiting
for the pathology results was par for the course. The first call came an entire day late. Kim, C.E., Jeanne, Gary, and I were in the
family room. I heard Gary’s phone
ring. The sound of his phone had become
more like an alarm as I had begun to imagine all the possible scenarios play
out in my mind. I began to realize the
good news is God is in control – not my mind, or anything or anyone else for
that matter. Whatever information was
coming from Houston had already been filtered through God’s will. And God loves me more than anyone. What He wants for my life will be for my good. He will give me the grace to accept whatever
comes my way. I knew if the news was bad
I would eventually have a peace just as He had given me with my initial
melanoma report.
Dr. Soliman asked how I was doing. As I told her I was getting better each day
and answered a few of her questions, Kim was thinking “Spit it out, doc! What does that report say?”!?!? Crazy calm, unexplainable peace was with me
as I walked to our patio doors and looked up at a most beautiful evening
sky. I felt His presence. Dr. Soliman said, “Although we have not
received the pathology report from the sentinel node (the first lymph node to receive
drainage from my lesion), all the other lymph nodes are clear and we removed
all of the cancerous tissue.” I said, “I
could not ask for better news.” The
family room erupted in cheering and clapping.
We all hugged, cried, laughed, gave God thanks, toasted with a glass of
wine – basically did everything we could to celebrate God’s answer to our
prayers. Reluctantly, everyone left one
by one, realizing we couldn’t jump up and down (well…they jumped) and cheer
forever. Someone asked if I was now beginning
to feel concern about the sentinel node biopsy.
Strangely, no, I was not. I could
not get over God’s kindness toward me at that moment. Like a child who wholeheartedly trusts on her
Daddy’s decisions regarding her welfare, I knew whatever the outcome, I was in
His loving, caring, tender arms and I was so safe and secure.
I had to wait five more days for the final pathology
report. Gary delivered the news unexpectedly. I was lying in bed when he called. Somehow, after our initial exchange of
helloes, I knew he had the news and I could tell by his voice it was good! 100% clear!! Amazing! I cried so hard. If someone had walked in the house at that
moment, they would have thought I had received horrible news. I was sobbing so hard. All the waiting was over and all my prayers
had been answered with a resounding, “Yes”!
How do you express inexpressible joy? Where do you find words when there are no
words to explain your gratitude? Silence
was what came over me for a number of days.
Kim asked me what I would do if I got such a great report. I said I’d sprout wings and fly. Instead, I sat outside the next day –
stunned. What just happened? It was as if I had been carried down a river
by wild rapids the past six weeks (and I can seriously say that Kim and Gary
figuratively carried me everywhere and I thank God for them) and suddenly
landed in a pool of calm, gentle, peaceful water…floating as if nothing ever
happened. “Please, God, don’t EVER let
me forget what You have brought me through,” I prayed. Why am I not bouncing off the ceiling? Why am I so quiet before the Lord? Am I in shock?
I’ve come to realize my inability to express myself, my
stunned quiet – just like that Wednesday evening before our prayer service – is
a part of my praise. It is my response
to a deeper level of intimacy with the Lord - to a deeper level of gratitude
and acknowledgment of who He is – an understanding of, or a better
understanding of His majesty and that I have been in the presence of such great
love and majesty. All of us, when we are
happy, thrilled, and excited show our emotions with screams, laughter and leaps
of joy. I expected that same response
out of myself. But when you come to the
precipice of the possible end of life here on earth, not knowing if you will
stay or leave, there is a newfound sense of seriousness. I did not “dodge a bullet” as I used to enjoy
saying when I escaped a possible trial.
I entered into a deeper relationship with my Creator. I will never be the same again, thank God!
One day I will go home to be with Him…and what a day it will
be! For now, I am here with my loved
ones, enjoying each beautiful new day He gives me here on earth. Enjoying every life He places in mine. The poignancy that it is Easter week end has
not escaped me. I am eternally thankful
for my Savior, Jesus Christ! His love
for me in dying on the cross as a substitute for my sins brings me to my
knees. I can only go to heaven and have
an eternal relationship with my Father because of Jesus’ sacrificial love and
obedience. My heart overflows with
tremendous love and great joy. 