“Hi, this is Jennifer, Dr. Smith’s assistant.  I’m calling to let you know we’re submitting a request to your insurance for a CT scan to check for cancer.  The ultrasound was inconclusive.”

Not the phone call you want to receive.  I admit it threw me into a slump.  I knew they saw something that appeared to be cysts last month while doing an MRI for another problem, but cysts-schmysts.  Who cares?  Most are water-filled and harmless.  What’s the big deal?  Cancer?!  I didn’t sign up for that.

Hanging up the phone, I informed Husband that I’d start looking for a good replacement wife.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” grunted Husband.

“Well, the first thing we need to do is train you to be nice so you can get a nice wife,”  says I.

Suddenly, my acquaintances and friends who bravely stood in the face of the big C came to mind.  How did they cope?  How can they be so brave?  How do you look Death in the face and stand your ground with strong faith?  I was frightened and discouraged and I didn’t even have a diagnosis yet.

“What are you afraid of, specifically?” said Husband kindly as I lay in bed with tears sneaking down my face in the dark.

“I’m afraid of being a burden, of not contributing.  I’m afraid of weakness and pain.  I get such pleasure from helping.  If I couldn’t help you or others, I’d be devastated.  I’m not afraid of dying, it’s getting there that I dread.”

 

The days drag on and Sunday comes around.  

Pastor says, “I want you to go to the cemetery outside town and take the time to be quiet and think.  Examine your priorities, because you won’t be around forever.”

“Oh, great.  God’s telling me to get my house in order, I’m going to die.  Well, I have plenty of regrets, but what can I do about that now?  I’m trying to live by right priorities.”

Monday comes and husband training is in full swing.  Gotta get him ready to find a new wife.

“Wrong.  Don’t say it that way.  Too harsh.  Say, ‘No thanks, dear.  I don’t need that,’ I coached.

A phone call from the doctor’s office.  Insurance ok’ed the CT scan.

 

 

 

 

Tuesday includes instructions for the scan.  Don’t eat or drink 8 hours before.  I’ll need to drink some barium liquid before the scan, they’ll inject some special dye in my veins, blah, blah.  No big deal.  Let’s go to our Bible class and get a dose of right thinking.  But night comes and the fear returns.  Husband prays for me.  I lie in bed repeating in my head what I learned at Bible class from Galations 6.  We reap what we sow.  When we are obedient to Christ’s commands, we’re planting good seed.  The harvest doesn’t happen immediately.  We faithfully obey over our lifetime.  The blessings will come, but some results may not be visible for decades or we may not see them in this life.  We’re not guaranteed health and wealth.  We are promised God’s presence and power.  We can’t unplant the bad seeds of disobedience.  They will bring a harvest, too.  But we are forgiven.  If we sow generously the good seeds of obedience, we get a generous harvest and we always get back more good than we sow.  One kernel of corn yields a stalk of corn with multiple ears. This meditation helps a lot.  Husband is coming along with his training so there’s hope for a nice wife for him.

 

Wednesday morning we get up in the dark and head to the facility an hour away.  The staff is always kind there.  The drink doesn’t taste too bad.  It’s great to get this over with.  I’m slid into the machine within an inch of the panic place.  My heart is racing.  Please don’t put my head in.  Just at the brink of panic, the machine stops me.  I can still see the ceiling, so I’m golden.  It’s all done quickly.  Actually, it’s amazing how quickly.  We run an errand afterward to finalize our kitchen cabinet order.  One month till delivery.  Never mind that our cabinets were supposed to be delivered three weeks ago.  But no cabinets because we had inadvertently ordered from a scam artist on Craigs List who took our money and ran.  Another story for another time.  This time around we chose a legitimate business and we will wait patiently.

Glad to be home out of the pouring rain, we eat a simple lunch including the ever-present sweet potato.  Husband is talking on the phone to his dear sister who always has our back in prayer.  I hesitantly turn on my computer.  Why not check the patient portal of the imaging facility to see if my report has been posted yet?  But am I ready for the bad news?  Can I face cancer?  Will I be brave like our friend at church who, though dying of liver cancer, always gives a smile and a helping hand?  Will I trust the goodness of God even if he allows cancer?  Maybe I won’t get power to face it until I actually have to face this.

There is the report title and with trembling hand, I click on it.  Lots of medical jargon.  I scan it quickly looking for the dreaded word.  I look at the final recommendations.  Nothing about seeing an oncologist.  I go back over the report.  No tumors.  I can’t believe the mercy I’ve received.  There is a serious issue that must be addressed, but no cancer is more than I can take in.  I read the report to my sister-in-law on the phone who had worked as a nurse.  She confirms there is no cancer in the report.  It still hasn’t sunk in that I’ve been spared.

A call from my family doctor.  The good news is that it isn’t cancer, she reassures me.  The not so good news is that something needs to be done without delay.  Another type of scan- radioactive scan, to try to pinpoint the issue and then an appointment with a specialist. We don’t want to wait with this, she says.  But I’m just reveling in my deliverance.  No cancer.

Chances are that you or a loved one have faced cancer.  I now have a greater respect for those who have/are fighting this dreaded enemy.  I admire you for your courage.  I found out that I’m very lacking in the courage department.  My hat is off to those who live in victory while under assault.