A Pilgrimage Through Cancer

October is Breast Cancer Awareness month.  I posted this poem a
 year ago on Facebook but want to share it on my blog in honor of this month and all those who have walked this journey and for those who will in the future.

“It looks suspicious,” said the doctor.

Minutes later as my husband and I sat in the doctor’s formal office

He details my options if the biopsy reveals cancer.

Mastectomy and chemotherapy, lumpectomy with radiation.

My mind says, “I’d do anything to save the breast.”

Denial and anger wrapped into one.

Next comes fear.

Almost like a vessel filling up with water, I can feel it rising and I swallow to keep it down.

I discipline my mind into another channel and the fear subsides.

Preparing for biopsy, I feel like I am reluctantly walking in a charted pathway.

Every other step is hope, fear, hope, fear.

Nurses and doctors going routinely about their work give an air of calm and assurance.

Kind words and hands help to keep back the panic.

Common sense arrives to lend a hand – “What is, will be, no matter what the frame of my mind.

So it is best to relax, trust and hope for the best.”

I walk into the grocery store and feel like I am a spectator of life.

I feel like shouting, “Hey, I have cancer!”

Everyone goes about in their own world oblivious to my unspoken cry.

Waiting, worrying, hoping, five days of limbo.

Then the phone call from the surgeon.

Cancer.

But then he says, “This is not a death sentence!”

Good chance of fighting this enemy.

More tests to see if the cancer has spread.

Lab for blood tests; x ray for total body bone scan;

Admissions office.   Another wait for results.

Return to work.

A vase with a rose on my desk.

A card with a Bible promise, signed

“I love you daughter, Jesus”

And the tears come.

Jesus really does love me!

Jesus confirms that I am one of the Family!

The tears bring a release and a cleansing.

Others bring support and love

I am reminded that when Jesus faced His cross,

He turned to his friends.  Being God was not enough.

Test results showed no spread of cancer to the bones or lungs.

We celebrate by making love.  I think, “What will it be like when the breast is gone?”

Tears come to my eyes and we fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Day of surgery.  Mundane things like lunch money, school picture day.

Walking resigned steps into the hospital.

Waiting for the operating room stretcher to come.

Feeling so small and helpless as my grown children and husband follow me

To pre-op.  Watching the ceiling as we pass through corridors and elevators.

Hooked up to I.V., nurse comes to prep.  Reality sets in as she shaves the breast

And Steve and I join the nurse who is silently weeping.

Her husband recently died of cancer.  We share each others’ pain.

Wheeled into the O.R., the surgeon comes in and gives assurance.

“We are going to take good care of you.”

As the anesthesiologist places each arm straight out from my body,

I think – “This is how Jesus surrendered on His cross.  I must do the same.”

I return to my room to find flowers everywhere!

And my family surrounds me with love.

I sleep away the pain –

More in the pit of my arm where the lymph nodes were removed

Than across my chest.

Next day – I feel great!  Walk the halls, entertain visitors.

Second day – bandage comes off.  Experience grief like a death.

My breast had died.  The scar was ugly and I cried.

The kind of cry that releases and allows healing.

Third day – good news!  Cancer was contained in the breast.

Lymph nodes free of cancer.  Good prognosis for total recovery.

Chemotherapy prescribed as an added precaution.

Six months – nausea, weakness, slight hair loss.

Now twenty-four years – cancer free.

Scripture promise was true-

“I know the plans I have for you.

They are for good and not for evil that you may have a future and a hope.”