I’m Not In Remission Anymore

Here I am, in therapy again – writing out / working out what’s in my brain.

This morning as I was preparing an aloe/honey concoction that is supposed to kill tumor cells, there was a knock at our door.  There was our neighbor Joe, looking weary, worn, emotional, asking if Dave was also around.  Dave must have heard, for he was at the door with me in an instant, and Joe told us his father-in-law, also our neighbor, was killed on the 605 FWY early yesterday morning.  We had not watched the news, we hadn’t heard.  We spent about 30 minutes with him, listening as he grieved, and shared the shock that they were all experiencing.  I promised him dinner tonight, and he was so grateful.  I wish, rather, I could have turned the clock back for all of them, and kept Joe (father-in-law) off the freeway.

In light of the pain of this sudden, horrible death, my prognosis seems like such a blessing.  Being wrenched out of life without the chance to ponder and love one last time; vs knowing you have some time?  Give me the warning.

I heard from the oncologist early evening yesterday, and surprisingly the CT Scan did not show the tumor we suspected... but it did show irregularities to my T10 vertebrae and ribs.  That would suggest bone cancer mets.  He said a bone biopsy would confirm that, but it is risky – so I may forego the confirmation.  We meet with him next Thursday, and will get greater detail on plan of attack.  I want to also explore ‘natural’ ways to deal with this.

He’s not sure why I have all the abdominal discomfort that I do.  Perhaps I take after my mom in this way, as she often has similar pains.  I guess this diagnosis explains my hurting back.  I figured it was “the tumor” that was pressing on my back and causing the pain.  But I suppose now, it is actually the bone cancer that is causing the pain.

I asked about prognosis, he says if treatment does not work - maybe 2 yrs,  if it does work - several years.

How am I feeling?  Actually kind of grateful.  I had begun thinking that I’d be facing 3 – 6 months.  Two years suddenly seems like such a huge gift… and there is the carrot dangling that if things work, “several more years.”  I recently asked God for 20 more years, and then we could have this conversation again.  I wonder, after I asked that, did he already remove an abdominal tumor that I surely thought I had?  Is He already at work, healing?  Nothing is too hard for God.  I recall during this Resurrection season, that even Jesus asked that “this cup be removed” from him.  Not my will, but His.

Of course I ponder Joe Sr.  What happened to him can happen to any of us.  None of us know the time or the season that we will be suddenly snatched.  Two years, several years, tomorrow at 9 a.m.?

I feel most acutely for my husband, our kids, my mom.   Not that I am all that important; yet my absence from these special people will profoundly affect their lives.  Not even that I’m that great of a wife, mom, or daughter – but we do get rather accustomed to that wife, mom, and daughter that we have.  I know that God will show up for each of them, and bring his presence and help.  However, the practically is it will be pretty difficult; it will be an adjustment.  I really don’t want them to have to face that adjustment.

I also feel for the extended family,  so much loss this past year or two.  The funerals have been sadly, quite regular, and unexpected.  And I must ask, for what purpose?  Since I believe that God will bring good out of all bad,  He will not let evil prevail.  Yes, it appeared satan won when he took Jesus out… but look who really won!  All of us!  This is the greatest example of taking something bad and turning it to good.  We all need to look with expectation to God when these things happen.   Rather than asking simply, “Why God?”  We should be asking, “What are you up to now God?  What do you want me to learn?  Who do you want me to better understand?  Who can I serve?”  And then be ready for the good.

So, today, my bottom line is pretty squiggly.  I’m feeling grateful, expectant, sad, confused (not about life, but about all the options of care and treatment we’ll have to figure out).  Please pray for all of us.  This is surely not just about me.  It affects everyone around me.  Pray for healing; and/or wisdom in choosing the correct treatment plan.

(And pray for out neighbor Joe, and his family.  Pray for my mom too.  Moms take things hard when it affects their kids… write her, encourage her.)