Saturday, February 09, 2013
I try to laugh at the thought that comes to
mind, as tears stream down my face, that God is going to have to find a bigger
bottle for all these tears I’ve been dropping.
The news is still just hours old. My mind is trying to wrap itself around what
is happening. It reminds me of a traffic
jam. Hurry up to stop and wait.
It started three weeks ago. I saw a tiny
little sun spot/mole like thing on my left breast. I thought, “That’s new.” So I touched it, and
I felt a bump in my breast. Although
I’ve come to learn that in the medical field they call it a lump. So to avoid confusion, I’ll go with
that. At the same time, I knew that in a
matter of days because of what should be an every month cycle but my body makes
it an every other or every three month cycle, I would soon live in constant
pain for two weeks. And knowing what I
know about mammograms, this lump would have to wait. After the pain subsided and I could go down
steps without pain, I called and made an appointment with Dr. Burroughs. Side note:
If you are looking for the most caring and compassionate OB/GYN in the metro
area, he is it. The end. I am most
familiar with Dr. Burroughs because of the infertility path we’ve been on, but
I’ve seen more of him than my general practitioner, so I called his office and
made an appointment for later that day, January 31st.
He confirmed that there was indeed a lump and
I should get it checked out. As soon as
possible. The scheduling department
called me and we set up a diagnostic mammogram with breast ultrasound. This is where is started to get weird. I work in mammo support at the hospital. All these terms and mammo lingo that began
floating around me, were words I hear and use frequently. But now they were personal. I left Ella with Papa who was going to take
her to her favorite restaurant, Olive Garden, and my mom and I headed to the
breast center. I went in at 11:20 for my
baseline mammogram. I think her name was
Liz. Or Elizabeth. Or Beth.
Maybe it was Lizzie. She was
fabulous. Healtheast would be proud to
know that she has perfected AIDET. For
something that she does all day long, there was nothing about this routine for
me. I accepted the Oshibori towel, only
because I wanted to smell the lavendar! Oh, so calming! I put on the official mammogram attire. For those of you trying to picture it, think
of a hospital gown, but no gown part.
Just the shirt. And missing a
button. On purpose. I did like the white robe though. After the squeezing was finished, (Ouch) I
got dressed and went with my mom to get a Red Machine Naked Juice. We sat by the fire and talked. I love my mom. She is the most patient person I know. My
sister Jamie is next in line. (If you
want to avoid the lines at rides and character greetings in Disney World, bring
my mom with you. That way, you go and
ride the other rides in the area, come back forty-five minutes later and it’s
your turn!) So we waited about a half
hour, went back and put the mammo attire on again and went in for the
ultrasound. I ended up waiting a while
for the Radiologist, and thankfully the ultrasound tech didn’t sit there with
me trying to engage in small talk, but left me alone with my thoughts and my
phone. The words to a song I had heard
earlier in the week kept floating through my mind, “I will bring praise. I will bring praise. No weapon formed against me shall
remain.” Can you name that tune?! When my mind tried to wander to a dark place,
I would repeat those lyrics over and over.
I don’t think I got the tune right though, and I didn’t know any more
lyrics to that song. What do you expect
from a girl that can’t clap and sing at the same time! I checked my phone and was encouraged by the
texts and e-mails from the few people that I had shared this information
with. God has blessed me with some truly
great friends. That’s what happened in
my life between 12:35 and 1:40 that
day. The Radiologist came in and pointed
out shadows and white spots and things that to her looked like a Christmas
tree, but to me looked like what I think the surface of the moon would like. Or like spilt milk. She said something about not being sure what
exactly it was and that she recommended an ultrasound guided core biopsy. Ah! Finally something familiar. Where I come from, if you come in for an
ultrasound guided core biopsy, you sit in the main waiting room. Not the mammo waiting room.
I met with the Nurse Navigator and she told me
when I would be coming in for the biopsy. Told me all about the procedure and
then told me I would n’t remember what she said, so she gave it to me in
writing and I left.
The not knowing was too much, so I did what
everyone does when they want to find out more about what they’re going through.
I googled. I found a really cool teaching websites for
those in school to be radiologists. I
starred at images of ultrasounds, looking for one that looked like the
Christmas trees, moon dust and spilt milk I saw earlier. I found one.
Something about a 28 year old…no risk factors…ductal carcinoma…ooh. Let’s google that. BIG mistake.
That led to other searches with ultimately ended in life expectancy and
survival rates. This was at 6:15pm. Ten minutes later we left for small
group. So you can imagine what happened
when my sweet friend Kara looked at me and asked, “How are you doing?” This is when the tears started. I felt loved and cared for as I sat on the
couch, friends all around me. What a
great place to be. In fellowship and community with other believers to talk
about the only thing holding me together; Jesus Christ.
What we had studied throughout the week in
Francis Chan’s Forgotten God study had me excited. Between that and Wonderstruck by Margaret
Feinberg, that I was almost finished reading, I was so pumped for what God had
for me, and what he had called me to. I
had been asking for his guidance in deciding whether or not I should take on
the position as the director of our women’s ministry since my friend Dee was
stepping down. I had talked with friends
and family and knew that God was leading me down this path and was excited to
step up and follow God. I love the women
of Five Oaks. I love worshipping and
listening and learning with them on Wednesday mornings. I pray for them. I am blessed to be able to use my spiritual
gift to serve them.
The same chapter I’d read at least two times
throughout the week suddenly took on new meaning as we all sat there discussing
the Holy Spirit. James 4:3 says “You ask
and do not receive, because you spend it on your passions.” Right there, that was God telling me HOW I
needed to be praying through the position I found myself in. I would definitely be praying that after the
biopsy and when the pathology report came back, it would be normal. But my top priority and the prayers on my
lips would be that God would be glorified in the circumstance. Whichever way it went. At the end of our time together, Erik echoed
my heart and issued a challenge to the whole group to live and pray this way.
Highly suspicious. Those words rattled around in my head all day
Wednesday. Rick and I drove to school to
pick Ella up. The conversation of babies
comes up every once in a while since Ella prays every. single. night for “a
baby brother, baby sister or both.” We
briefly talked about what our next step would be with infertility
treatment. Then we talked about baby
names. We have a boy name picked
out. We don’t agree on girls names. It’s nearly a miracle that Ella was
named. I told him that we didn’t have a
choice, that after now five years of trying, possibly more, we would name a
girl Halle Joy (that would be short for “Hallelujah Joy! Look what God has
done”) I convinced him that he didn’t need to come with me to the biopsy. All he would be able to do is sit and
wait. If you know my beloved husband,
rarely does he sit!
I
stayed up late studying Ephesians 6:10-18.
Good stuff there. My takeaways
can be summed up into 2 tweets!
Eph 6:10 be strong in The Lord! You can't put armor on a
weak soldier!
Eph 6:13-17 Put on the full armor of God. You only hold
the ground you fight for.
Which led me to Ephesians 3:16-19: “that according to the
riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his
Spirit in your inner being, so that
Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith-that you being rooted and
grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is
the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ
that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.”
Wow.
I woke up Thursday feeling refreshed and ready to face
whatever came. I made Ella
breakfast. Egg IN toast. How clever am I?! She was not impressed. She told me that when she went to Nan’s house
she would have oatmeal. I was able to
convince her that I could make her oatmeal and she would like it. She ate her oatmeal and watched “What’s in
the Bible with Buck Denver: Volume
2” I jumped in the shower, knowing that I couldn’t
shower for 24 hours after the biopsy. (I
read that on the instruction sheet they gave me.) I was half listening to the movie with Ella
and half scrolling through Twitter when the puppets on TV started singing. Do you know what they were singing?!
“Hallelujah! Look was God has done!”
Mind blown.
With Ella safely dropped off with Papa, my mom and I headed
back to the breast center. We were
late. My fault. And the orange cones that blocked me from
making a right turn towards the hospital.
Once there, I talked with the Nurse Navigator ( I feel like she should
be wearing safari garb under her white lab coat!) once again about what to
expect, what to do, what not to do and so forth. I put on the half gown thing again and covered
it with the white robe and wondered if I took it home with me, would they
deduct the cost of it from my paycheck?
Back on the ultrasound table Melissa Kathleen introduced
herself and got everything ready. The
Radiologist came in and told me what to expect, what he was going to do, what I
shouldn’t do and so forth. My worlds
collided again. I had written his name
many times as the reading radiologist on the schedule for the day and now I was
his patient. He had great bedside
manner, and he said THE word:
cancer. It was the first time I’d
heard it out loud since I started down this road. I had thought it, I had read it, I had heard
others skirt around it, but this was the first time I had heard it out
loud. Strangely, it was calming. The procedure went smoothly and quickly and
for the most part, pain free. They taped
me up and wrapped me up and I headed home.
To wait. This was Thursday. They would be calling me with the pathology
results on Monday. That left all of
Friday, Saturday and Sunday to be alone with my thoughts and Google. Not a good idea. My dear friend, Kara, brought dinner over for
us. White Chicken Chili, salad, bread
and cookies. It was really good, Ella
loved it. I was blessed. I am astounded by how something as simple as
a meal can shout love so loudly. Rick
and I filled the weekend schedule: Coffee House at church, Tea with my mom,
Ella and GG, dinner with friends, church, picking up horse poo etc. Anything that would keep us busy. I went to Bible study that night and listened
to Beth Moore talk about the fruit of the Spirit. It was encouraging to be there with new
friends, to discuss what we learned throughout the week and to have them pray
for me. I laughed out loud when she
quoted someone that has said, “If God ain’t messin’ with your life, he ain’t
Lord of your life.” I took comfort in
knowing that I was right where he wanted me.
My iphone shuffled
to just the songs I needed to hear on the drive home which included: “I will
bring praise. I will bring praise. No weapon formed against me shall
remain. I will rejoice. I will declare. He is my victory and he is
here.” Sweet worship right there in the
car!
Friday I went to work.
My sweet worship in the car continued.
I used my short commute into work to share with God what was on my
heart. I told him that I wanted my life
to bring him glory. If that meant negative
test results and continuing my new journey in women’s ministry with a fresh
fervency, then so be it. If that meant
praising him through cancer and chemo, so be it. His Spirit stopped me there and asked, “If
you having cancer will be what glorifies me most, will you trust me?”
Pause. Heartbeat quickening. Deep breath.
“Yes, Lord.”
I spent the morning half losing myself in my work, and
half trying to get my hands on the reports from my appointments to have
something to hold that made all of this seem real. I finally got them on my lunch break. I wanted to see the ACR score. My training in mammo had taught me what each
number, 0-5 meant. I knew that I may
have to wait until the official report came back on Monday to get the official
results. But reading through the report,
seeing phrases like “if malignant as suspected,” “if breast conservation is
considered, ” and finally, “ACR CATEGORY 5: HIGHLY SUGGESTIVE OF
MALIGNANCY.” I knew the truth. I had breast cancer. 31 years old.
No risk factors. No family history.
But I had cancer. My first
thought as I stood in the cafe’: Here we go, God!
I discussed the findings with yet another mammo tech and
my boss. They knew it too. She tried to get me to go home early, but I
finished the day. Contacted my job share
partner to ask her to cover my shift on Monday when the official results came
in. I got in the car and for the first
time, I cried. I pulled myself together,
picked Ella up from school and headed to get tabs for the snowmobile. The weather people said a winter storm was
coming and we needed to be prepared.
Then the phone rang. Ella was
being a backseat driver and telling me this was not the way we go home. I saw Dr. Burroughs’ name and quickly
thought, “Awww. He’s checking in on
me. How sweet! But this is how the conversation went:
Dr: “Hi Melissa.
This is Dr. Burroughs. How are
you?”
Me: “Hi. I’m doing okay.
How are you?”
Dr: “Are you in a place that you’re able to talk?”
Me: “Yes.” ( I lied.)
Dr: “The pathology results are in and unfortunately they
are not what we were hoping for. It is
cancer.”
Dr: ”…something about Tuesday, something about Dr. Ogren,
something about infertility and pregnancy, something about surgery, something
about cancer.”
Me: “Mmm Hmmm.
Yup. Okay. Okay.
Yes. Okay.”
Dr: “This is not a phone call I was looking forward to
making. I don’t like this part of my
job. We will be praying for you. We have a prayer list at the clinic and we
will pray for you. After your surgery,
if you are okay with it, I would like to come see you.”
Me: “Thank you.”
Somewhere in the early part of the conversation I glanced
in the back seat. The little girl that
was just bubbling over with endless chatter was now sound asleep. Thank you, Jesus.
I hung up and I cried.
Thank goodness for the auto pilot switch in my car that got us safely
home as I cried and cried and cried. I
left Ella asleep in the car, in the garage.
I ran into our bedroom where Rick was out cold having worked overnight
to finish a project at work. I shook him
awake and through sobs said, “Rick, it’s cancer.” Stunned, shocked, Confused, thinking he was
dreaming (I guess nightmare would be more appropriate here)…I could have been a
little more gentle. I felt like the wind
had been knocked out of me and tried to catch my breath. He held me as I cried. As we cried.
When I was finally able to catch my breath, I relayed what Dr. Burroughs
had said about Tuesday and Dr. Ogren. I
searched for my phone and the number I had scribbled as I drove home. I made the phone call, got everything settled
for Tuesday and hung up the phone.
Numb. In shock. Yeah, that’s what I felt. And then scared. Not for me so much, but for my sweet, loving
husband and our amazing daughter. Not sure what to do next, I did what anyone
else would do. I grabbed my
computer. I saw my reflection in the
blank screen and almost smiled at the black mascara tears rolling down my
face. I didn’t laugh though. I just made a mental note that investing in
some waterproof mascara was going to be necessary. I called my parents. My dad answered the phone. Somehow in the two or three words I choked
out, he knew and e and my mom were at our house in minutes. I
called the insurance company. We talked
about prior authorizations and deductibles and coinsurance and whether Dr.
Ogren was in network or out of network. It
was a lovely conversation. I looked into
short term disability and FMLA and my Health savings account balances and felt
like maybe I had done something since there really is nothing I can do. Although I don’t remember anything that I read.
There really was nothing I could do.
Except wait. And cry and pray
without words, knowing that the Holy Spirit would intercede for me. And rest in Him. Tuesday please come quickly.
Friday night we went to church as planned for the coffee
house. We hadn’t decided if we were
going to tell anyone or not. Rick’s
parents were out so we were not able to tell them. My parents had filled my sisters in for me
and I talked with them while Rick helped clean up. We negotiated where our parents should
be. Jamie has surgery to repair her torn
ACL on Thursday in Missouri. I love my
sisters. I don’t think you could find
any three people more different. But I
love them for that. We didn’t have to
tell anyone. It never came up. And I’m glad.
It was nice to have one last night of normal before it all begins.
So that brings me to now.
Today. Saturday, February 09,
2013. I slept soundly in Him last night
until 5:00am. Then I woke up and read
and I was encouraged, I feel God’s love for me so strongly and I feel his
presence so near. I hear him whisper to
my weary soul: “Don’t worry, my child.
I’ve got this.”
