What a horrible summer it’s been. Forget buzz words.
This is a special break from our regularly scheduled programming.
Buzz words are far better than the C word. I didn’t want to ever have to deal with that one.
It has been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad year (in Judith Viorst’s words. I love children’s books, so nothing says it better than that).
It all started shortly after New Year’s Day, when I broke a tooth on an almond. So much for healthy choices.
So that got me to the dentist, after a ten-year hiatus. Yes. You could only imagine the bill I’m still paying.
Then with April rains, came a mysterious spot of blood. Just one spot and tiny at that. I thought it was, maybe, I dunno…maybe I’ll ignore it. But I couldn’t.
So that got me to a gynecologist.
Fast forward to June 20, after having a PAP (abnormal but not showing cancer), uterine biopsy (abnormal but not showing cancer), ultrasound (looking good, but fooled ya!), and finally, a LEEP and D&C, I get the dreaded call. I had been praying fervently that morning, that I would finally get a good report, after all these other inconclusive tests.
It wasn’t the receptionist or nurse from the doctor’s office. It was the doctor. My heart started pounding.
“I have your pathology report here. I’m so sorry. You have uterine cancer.”
“Okay” I said, shaking, but not crying…yet.
I called a dear sister from church, immediately asking for that APB (All Prayer Bulletin) to be put out across our church family.
Then I cried. And prayed. And did some chores, zombie-like.
Then I called my daughter. My daughter, who has survived her father’s abandonment. My daughter, who has survived her own daughter’s cancer. All by God’s grace. And now she is the most positive, upbeat, loving woman that I can lean on.
My poor husband was next in line. I hate telling him horrible stuff over the phone while he’s at work, but he knew I’d get results today and he would ask anyway.
“Honey, we have a dark providence to deal with.”
“ARE YOU READY TO REALLY LOVE ME?”
I will be weepy. I might be mean, impatient and irritable. I might not have dinner for you when you get home.
Later on, he said he cried, and I think I believe him, though I couldn’t see his tears through the cell phone.
Are you ready to really love me, husband? Are you ready and willing to put physical intimacy on hold? Can you appreciate greater spiritual and emotional intimacy in exchange?
The Lord ordained this for me, for us. Be there for me. You don’t have to speak, just wrap your arms around me. Be selfless. Stop making crumbs, haha! Be sensitive to my emotional tumult. Forgive me when I scream at you. Please.
I’ve been so volatile.
We are still newlyweds. From the beginning, I told Mike how I would love and savor the years the Lord gives us. I pray that He has many more in store for us. We’ve only just begun. Continue reading