Sunday, September 8, 2019

When the Going Gets Tough - the Tough Run to Jesus


March is Colon Cancer awareness month.  I never knew that before.  Until, coincidentally, in March of 2016 I was diagnosed with stage 2 colon cancer.  Up until then I think I only knew that October was breast cancer awareness month.  Its ribbon color pink.  (I love seeing the big NFL players rocking pink jerseys and socks in support.)  My ribbon color is blue.  I know that now because that’s what happens when your diagnosed with a major illness.  There’s a moment when everything changes… almost instantaneously.

Looking back my moment before was 36-year-old wife, mother of three. Daughter, sister, friend.  Extrovert!  Introvert depending on my mood.  California girl, reluctantly turned southern belle.  Lover of Oscar parties, fashion and Target runs.  A BELIVER.

And then suddenly your told you have Cancer and... well...yeeeaaah.  Still all of the things listed above but you start to worry and wonder about your mortality.  Well your family be ok if something were to happen.  Target runs are exchanged for CT scans, blood work and iron infusions.  You feel sick because you are sick, and you have pain and you’re tired and your “normal” is replaced pretty quickly with a “new normal”.  One that is riddled with doctor’s appointments, surgeries, insurance companies and concerned family and friends.  You begin to really miss your old life, you begin to forget what your life was like before.  “Was I always sick?”  You ask yourself.  “Surely there was a time when I was healthy.”  It’s all a bit of a blur.

I’ve gotten ahead of myself though so let me back track a little.

I started to get really sick in December of 2015.  The first time it happened I chalked it up to food poisoning or maybe the stomach flu.  But then it kept happening.  I couldn’t keep much of anything down, most of what I ate made me really sick.  On the plus side I lost 20 pounds!  On the downside I’ve since gained it all back.  But I digress.  Lauren my person and fellow blogger suggested I see a doctor…because perhaps 5 episodes of “food poisoning” in one month isn’t’ actually food poisoning.  We would joke later that she saved me life, but in fact she just may have.

So, I saw my doctor and within a few weeks I was scheduled for an endoscopy and colonoscopy.  Hooray!!  Not once during this process did I ever suspect cancer.  My mom was battling parotid cancer, my sister had just been diagnosed with breast cancer.  The chances of me having cancer, well that would just be cruel.  Or suggest we grew up on a nuclear power plant.  Besides, I had Web MD and my very own nursing expertise to rely on.  Crohn’s disease, IBS, stomach ulcers, or possibly a food allergy all seemed like some proper diagnoses’, although, none of them fun.

The morning of my procedure, my husband Greg and I joked and laughed that it took a colonoscopy for us to have a date.  We left our children in the care of my parents and planned where we would have lunch after I was done.  When I woke up from surgery, I was loopy and happy.  Apparently, I announced to all the medical staff I was married to a doctor… Greg is not a doctor.  The actual doctor entered the room forlorn and serious.  “I have good news and some bad news.” He said.  I couldn’t believe that was actually a thing, it felt like a line out of a movie.  “The good news is your endoscopy was clear, the bad news there is a large mass in your colon and its cancer.”  That was it.  I didn’t even get to choose what news I wanted to hear first.  “Is it serious?”  I asked.  (That was the drugs talking.)  “Yes!  It’s very serious.”  He said.  “Well at least I’m already bald!”  I joked. (Drugs again…I had shaved my head two weeks prior in support of my sister.)  The doctor did not find it funny.  We were told we would hear something in the next week or so about surgery, more tests other doctors and that was it.  We were sent on our way, my new illness in tow.  No other information.  What stage was it, had it spread, would I need chemo, radiation…was I going to die?

Looking back that was the hardest part.  The not knowing.  The waiting.  It was like I was in limbo.  Not knowing cancer purgatory.  It was also the part that threw me into the arms of Jesus.  I would imagine myself at his feet, weeping, tears wetting his toes, clinging to his robes and I felt his presence.  His peace, his calm, his LOVE.  Why does the hard stuff build so much character, why do we have to grow and be challenged?  I say to God all the time…” I really, really love you Lord.  I’m not going anywhere I promise.  If you just want to make life really easy for me, that would be fantastic.”  But the reality is I take my eyes off of him daily but he never loses sight of me.  Going through the fire stinks!  But going through the fire with Jesus can bring us so close to him.  It makes our relationship with him and others rich, and deep.  It can make us faithful and God is always faithful.
My cancer was stage 2.  No chemo or radiation needed.  They removed my tumor laparoscopically and I recovered relatively quickly.  I have been in remission for two years and continue to see my doctors regularly.  I know that is not always how the story ends.  I don’t know why my story ended this way and others don’t.  Those are the really tough questions in life and perhaps it’s not for us to know and understand.  What I do know is God is with me, you, us.  Whatever you are going through, whatever troubles you, rub to the arms of Jesus, weep at his feet.

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