Two Years
Two years ago I sat in a waiting room with Trevor. We weren’t sure they were going to let him, in but thankfully they did.
I was there to get my 24 staples removed and to find out the pathology results.
The surgeon nonchalantly starts reading my surgical report without making eye contact, like he’s ordering his lunch. He says, “Now did it spread to the lymph nodes? I can’t remember… let me look…here it says…”
I held my breath and squeezed Trevor’s hand.
The surgeon’s pocket buzzes.
He stops reading, pulls out his pager and says “Oh! Ha! Have to get this because I’m on call” He proceeds to type in a bunch of things, chuckling to himself.
Meanwhile I feel like I’m going to pass out and I can sense the anger rising off of Trevor and I am almost sure he’s about to deck the guy.
Eventually the surgeon goes “Oh where was I… uh yes it’s spread to the lymph nodes”
I can’t breathe. My world, as I knew it, has ended.
He rattled on… “You will need for radiation which will be difficult and chemotherapy as well but I don’t know what else and we will refer you to an oncologist and now the medical assistant will come in and take out your staples- goodbye.”
I laid there as she plucked them out one by one into a container and my mind raced but I couldn’t speak.
That was the worst day of my life.
That is also the day the person I was up until that point ceased to exist and a new me began.
It is horrifying to hear you have cancer, even worse to hear it from someone so callous. It is awful to drive home to face your three young kids and know you’re going to have to tell them that their world is being upended. It’s painful to sit next to your spouse knowing all that they are about to carry, feeling a crushing guilt and sense of burden.
But I am here. I am not the same person. I’ve changed. I don’t like things I use to and I like things I never did before. I went through a dark night of the soul but found the light again and I carry my wounds with me to places I never could have entered before.
I have seen the goodness of the community of God in a way I could only thought I had before. I have lost friends and gained friends. I have battled anxiety and depression. My body is foreign to me, the side effects that are seen and unseen are a daily battle for me. The person in the mirror often looks like a stranger. We are still getting to know one another, giant scar down my abdomen and all.
I’m still figuring out what prayer is and what it means and I don’t have all the answers, but I’m here. I’m not at a place where I can say I’m thankful for cancer and what it’s brought me, and if I’m honest I’m not sure I will ever get there but I am thankful that God never left me even when I was sure of it. And I’m thankful that God is using me despite my doubts and anger and frustration.
So we celebrate today with cake. Not because today was a good day two years ago, but because I’m still here despite it all. Nice try Stage 3 Colorectal Cancer. I won.
Good Job Not Dying.
#cancerversary
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