We were 15 minutes late. Which- while it is typical of being- well: me. Is NOT what you want to be for your husband’s first appointment at radiation. Talk about heaping extra stress on yourself when in an already stressful situation. Oy. However- you do your best when trying to get a kid to the bus and still manage to put on enough makeup to not scare the cancer patients.
Or maybe it was because we really just didn’t want to go.
Walking (like a ridiculous race-walker in pumps because the 12 seconds I saved running from the car to the oncology/radiation center’s doors makes the difference between living and dying. Forget the doctors. We have speed.) into the oncology/ radiation center is yet another slap in the face of cancer- denial. Even though it’s about getting well- it still stings.
Late or not- the staff was great and we only waited a bit for our appointment. (Weird- you never see doctors running in late cause they feel so bad…. yet- they are always: late. But- I digress.) It’s not necessary to go into medical jargon- but suffice to say we’re moving on to the next steps required to kick prostate cancer’s butt. We’re ready to fight and are thankful we have a God who both “gets” us to our cores- and loves us- in addition to friends and family who love and support us.
However- a slap in the face of cancer denial- also makes you feel… well… a lot of stuff.
- Moments of panic. Because while we know God is both good and in control and has the power to heal- he doesn’t always.
- Moments of overwhelming sadness. Because talking to your kids about their Dad having cancer- just. sucks.
- Moments of uncontrolled giggling because of the irony of a “siemans’ CT scan machine being used to detect prostate cancer….(Say it out loud. Think about it. I’ll give you a minute…;)
- Moments of being afraid to make a decision about care- because: DUH. We aren’t doctors. I Don’t WANT A CHOICE. Just tell us what will kill the cancer!!!
- Moments of overwhelming love for the superhero-survivor that is my husband.
Sometimes all at once.
Especially when you walk out of yet another consult appointment, feeling like your head will explode due to fear/ stress and choice of treatment overload and have to wait while he gets his photo for his official “I’m a cancer patient” get out of everything free card. (Still don’t know what that was about- but seriously- they had to take his picture before we could leave.)
My neck and jaw and head felt like molten lead as I plopped into the nearest chair to wait for his glamour shot. I wondered if my brains could leak out through my ear for just a split second. For another second I kind of wished they would… cause the THINKING about cancer is almost as bad as the HAVING of cancer…. (i.e. the stress sucks. I’m not just talking about ME– I’m talking about my husband….we’d both like a lobotomy to help us cope- k? Thnx.)
Which is about when my glassy, overwhelmed eyes landed on this:
Which looks suspiciously like this:
My inked reminder that God is with us….
In pain. In beauty. In Peace. In fear.
And I knew he was.
Dear Lord- thank you for being with us in this cancer- I hate this.. but I love you— amen