klatch –noun – a casual gathering of people, esp. for refreshments and informal conversation.
This summer we’ll be opening the new CCV Cafe for one Saturday each month from 9:00 to 11:00 a.m. for an informal get together. Come drink a cuppa joe, gnosh a little and chat it up. Stay for as little or as long as you please.
June 26 ◊ July 24 ◊ August 14
(No childcare)
While chapter 1 is a broad overview of creation, chapter 2 gives us a bit more detail.
The events in Genesis took place several hundred plus years before Moses, the author, was born which means the stories were handed down from generation to generation until Moses recorded it for posterity. You know that game Telephone? The one where Person A whispers something to Person B and the message goes down the line until Person Z tries to say what Person A said? Most of the time the message at the end is nothing like the message at the beginning. Now I’m not saying that happened here, but I do wonder about this next part.
Verse 18 says, “The Lord God said, ‘it is not good for man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him.’ But then in verse 19 God brings all the living creatures to Adam for him to name (makes you curious about what he’d been eating when he named the hippopotamus, kangaroo and platypus, doesn’t it?) and verse 20 says, “But for Adam no suitable helper was found.” Really??
Since “no suitable helper was found” amongst the animals, God created a woman. And “the man and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame.” Of course, the as-of-yet-unnamed woman wasn’t assaulted by images of movie stars or television celebrities or supermodels, either.
At this point paradise is still perfection. That’s all about to come to a swift change, however.
CHAPTER 3
Right as you start to read chapter 3 you’re hit with the most obvious of questions. Was it normal for the animals to speak? Forget that the snake was saying something contrary to what God had told the woman. Wasn’t the fact the serpent was TALKING TO HER a clue that something wasn’t quite right?
Verse 6 says, “She also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it.” Why had he kept silent? Maybe he was so dumbstruck by the talking snake that he was left speechless. Until he was confronted by God, that is. Then he was really quick to blame everyone but himself – which was a really short list. Do you notice he says, “The WOMAN YOU put here with me…”? Way to take responsibility, Adam.
God starts handing out curses to all those involved and he tells the serpent “you will crawl on your belly… all the days of your life.” I wonder what the snake’s mode of transportation was before he was condemned to slither. To the woman he greatly increased her childbearing pains – thanks, lady – although a good epidural these days and that problem’s solved. This may be a leap, but I’m guessing PMS is her fault, too. And finally, God replaces Adam’s life of leisure with a life of toil. Interestingly, Eve doesn’t get her name until after the Great Forbidden Fruit Debacle. Any thoughts on the possible significance?
It’s easy for us to blame Adam and Eve for all the less than wonderful aspects of life, but really, it was just a matter of time. If it hadn’t been them to mess up it would have been someone else down the line.
Now that Adam and Eve realize they’re nekkid God makes them garments of skin – lucky for them it was before PETA. After he clothes them he gives them the boot out of the Garden and places a cherubim and flashing sword – the ultimate bouncer – to guard the way to the tree of life so there would be no living forever.
One seemingly small act of disobedience and humankind goes from utopia to anything but in the blink of an eye. Next up – jealousy, anger, murder, curses …
It’s been several weeks since I first posted about Trippin’ Through The Bible or TTTB for short. As is often the case, life happens and the best laid plans go awry. So here’s a quick refresher. Starting at the beginning of Genesis and going until I, become inundated with requests to please stop the madness, finish the entire Bible, we’ll look at the interesting/funny/crazy things it says. We may do one chapter at a time or we may do several chapters. It just depends on what catches my attention. We’ll also keep track of Jesus’ rather colorful lineage as we go.
But here’s the thing. This series will only be as good as the participation. Read the scriptures for yourself and add your two cents or four cents or a whole dollar if you’re so inclined. Agree with me, disagree with me, point out something I totally missed. I say we have fun with this and maybe learn something along the way.
Ready? Let’s get going!
Genesis 1
Right off the bat there are several points that catch my attention. For example, I always thought the three parts of God were a New Testament thing. But in only the second verse of the Old Testament, clear as day, it mentions the Spirit of God. I don’t know about you, but I find it fascinating that the Holy Trinity was involved in the great creation. I’m not sure why I always just assumed it was God the Father who did the whole creating thing while I was growing up. I suppose I didn’t really give it much of a thought one way or another.
Talk about a powerful God. All he had to do was say the word and BAM! There it was. “God said let there be light and there was light.” “God said,” fill in the blank, “and it was so.” I’ve tried this approach at home with little to no luck. “Jen said,” empty the dishwasher/dust the living room/ let the dog in/ get your feet off the coffee table/pick up your mess, etcetera, etcetera and so forth, but just saying it never seems to make it so. I usually have to throw in a dirty look to get anything accomplished and even then there’s usually whining.
Verses 20 through 25 mention all the creatures God created: water creatures, winged birds, livestock, creatures that move along the ground, and wild animals. I see nothing in here about flying insects. Where do mosquitoes and other buzzing pests fit in?
Going back to the subject of the Trinity, have you ever noticed in verse 26 it says, “Let us make man in our image, in our likeness…”?
This next part I really like, undoubtedly because I’m a woman and I think this scripture has been twisted over the centuries to elevate men above women. God says, “Let us make man in our image,” etc., but he’s not talking about a male. He’s talking about mankind. How do I know this? Because the verse goes on to say, “and let them rule over (all the animals and such)”. And verse 27 says, “So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.” That’s right, ladies. We were created in God’s image, too!
In the beginning of chapter 2 God’s wonderful handiwork was finally completed and he rested on the seventh day. I picture him kicked back in his Lazy Boy (‘cause you know he could have spoken one into existence) watching over his exquisite creation. As much loveliness as I’ve been witness to in this life it’s difficult, maybe even impossible, to fathom perfection. But think about it. There was no crime, no war, no litter, no smog, no rude people, no political campaigns, no infomercials – only peace and joy and pristine beauty. Of course he rested. But it wasn’t like when I finally finish painting a room and I rest from exhaustion. God is tireless. There was simply nothing left to create so he rested and enjoyed his work.
Chapter one and the first couple verses of chapter two serve as a summary with a timeline of creation. But as we get into chapter two we’re given a bit more detail and things really start getting good. You’re not going to want to miss it!
Several years ago I taught a Wednesday night Bible class to third and fourth graders. There was no specific curriculum so I made up my own. I decided to start with the first page of the Bible and work my way through, hitting all the major stories I’d learned as a child and tying them all together for the kids. A long piece of butcher paper hung horizontally on the wall with the words “The Family of Jesus” written at the top. The first night we wrote in “Adam and Eve” and with each story we came to we filled in the name of the relative Jesus descended from.
This plan was truly brilliant. Have you seen how big the Bible is? Have you read the recorded genealogy of Jesus? I was pretty sure I could manage enough lesson plans to last me for quite a while. I figured I’d just cruise along, scan over the familiar stories ahead of time; write down the pertinent character on our family tree and BAM! Lesson done with a minimum of work.
But a funny thing happened. Each week as I’d read through the next chapter or two in preparation for the upcoming class, new things would jump off the pages at me. I started seeing the Bible in a whole new way. I have always believed the Bible to be the Word of God, but it always seemed kind of like a history text book/instruction manual hybrid. Instead I found out the Bible is loaded with all the elements of a great fiction novel: suspense; deceit; murder; adultery; love; war; violence; tenderness; mercy – all wrapped up in the ageless battle of good versus evil.
Not only that, but so many of the stories I’d learned as a child and thought I knew so well were not exactly as I had remembered. And all those parts in between the familiar tales that you hardly ever hear about? Overflowing with unexpected gems, some of which are hardly appropriate for children. (Intriguing, isn’t it?)
Can I tempt you into taking a trip through the Bible with me? I can’t promise any deep spiritual insights, but I can promise you an amazing ride with surprises and treasures and more than just a few laughs around nearly every bend. And who knows? Maybe we’ll even glean something of real substance every now and then.
Watch for more details about the next CLEAR event – this one is just for Single Moms – but all women are invited to attend to meet some new friends, or just to help out. Dinner with free babysitting provided. March 25th, 6:30-8:00 p.m. CCV Building, Royersford.
Contact Tina Stenman for more info – ph 484.868.3599.
If you’ve ever attended Christ’s Church of the Valley chances are you’ve seen Pat Shifflet. It seems like most Sunday mornings she can be found warmly welcoming people into the building with her trademark smile. She and her husband, Bill, have been attending CCV since 2001. It was in 2002, after hearing Brian talk about the gap between us and heaven and how Jesus is the only bridge across that gap, that she was baptized. And she’s never looked back.
I had the privilege and pleasure of visiting with Pat. She is a three year breast cancer survivor and she graciously shared her experience with me. If you don’t already know her I hope you’ll see how special, how sure of her faith, how full of peace and how inspiring she is as you read what she had to say.
Pat and Bill leave for Colorado after Christmas every year and return to Pennsylvania in the spring. During their 2004/05 trip she felt a pulling sensation in her right breast, but never felt a lump upon self exam. Between the several benign cysts she had had removed over the years and the fact there was no family history of any type of cancer she just figured it was another cyst causing the strange feeling.
Life got in the way when they returned home in April and it wasn’t until August that she saw her doctor. Pat told her about the pulling sensation and the physician was able to feel a pea size lump. She was sent for a mammogram and the technician felt an ultrasound was also needed.
It was while merging onto the Schuylkill on her way to New Jersey that she received a call from her physician saying to contact a surgeon. Bill was out of town and she couldn’t get a hold of her daughter, so she called Terri Stone and asked her to call the surgeon who had removed her cysts for an appointment right away. Terri worked her magic and had Pat seeing the doctor the following Tuesday.
The surgeon ordered an MRI, another ultrasound and an x-ray, all done right away. The Friday before Labor Day found Pat, Bill and her daughter sitting in the surgeon’s office. When the doctor came in there was no hello, just “You have breast cancer. Let’s discuss it.” Amazingly the news didn’t upset her. She had already accepted she had cancer. Somewhere between her baptism and diagnosis she had accepted the truth that Jesus Christ really is in charge. Whatever was to be was for the good.
That night she told God, “I accept this. I need you to show me why.” She describes it as a prayer that came from deep inside, that just broke out. So many times we ask that question and never get an answer. Pat’s question, however, was answered almost immediately.
Before her surgery she was scheduled for another ultrasound. As she laid waiting on a gurney a woman in an office across the hall came out and asked Pat if she was afraid. Pat told her no, that it was in God’s hands. The woman couldn’t understand so Pat shared her faith with her. The day of the surgery found her on another gurney in that same hallway. The woman again came out of her office to see if Pat was going up for surgery, asking if she could go up with her and Pat agreed. The woman soon came to church and Pat baptized her about eight months later. She and her boyfriend are still active at CCV.
Since the Monday after was Labor Day, Pat had a right mastectomy on the Tuesday following her diagnosis. The lump turned out to be quite a bit bigger than pea size and was invasive. After healing from the mastectomy she began chemotherapy in October. Days 2, 3 and 4 were the hard days, the days where she felt the worst. She recalls a conversation she had with Brian Jones during this time. He commented on her good spirits and she responded, “What’s the worst that could happen? I get to go to heaven and see Jesus face to face?”
I asked her about any resources she may have used and she told me about the Hospital Cancer Support Center. They teach women how to feel better about themselves with makeup and wigs and that sort of thing. Pat took advantage of learning how to tie scarves and she says she had a lot of fun with her hats and scarves, even wearing different colored bangs with them.
Her greatest support, however, came from her Home Team which she likens to family. “They brought food and flowers, sent cards and called – they were incredible.”
Two days after her last treatment in January she and Bill left on their yearly jaunt to Colorado. Her oncologist wanted her to start radiation eight weeks following the conclusion of chemotherapy, but she put him off two more weeks. And would you believe she actually skied that winter?
Pat’s story shines with her incredible spirit and is a true inspiration. Her journey with breast cancer was made okay because she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that God was in control. And as she says, “Life is so much easier if you turn it all over to Him.” But my favorite Pat quote of all is: “I see each day as a present from God I get to unwrap hour by hour.”
Before I had kids I knew the proper way to raise perfect children. I would do this and wouldn’t do that — it was so simple. Then I became a parent and found out just how much I didn’t know. It was the same way with cancer. I thought I would have the surgery, go through chemo, grow my hair back, have reconstruction and then my life would be the same as it had been before. How wrong I was.
My misconceptions about chemotherapy were quickly cleared up. The comments I made to Todd about the silver lining to the diagnosis were nearly all blown to bits.
Chemotherapy as a weight loss aid: I didn’t lose any weight. In fact I gained 30 pounds over the six months of treatment. I blame my oncologist and the chemo nurses for telling me to eat an ice cream sundae every day. Oh, all right. What they said was if the only thing I felt I could eat and keep down was an ice cream sundae then eat an ice cream sundae every day because it was better than not eating anything at all.
Chemo didn’t make me sick. I had a few days of feeling icky after treatment, like I’d eaten something to sour my stomach; however, I wasn’t actually nauseous. My food consumption didn’t change much, but I was suddenly living a sedentary life. Another factor was the large amounts of steroids which accompanied each infusion and caused water retention and munchies for a couple days every three weeks.
Loss of unwanted body hair: This one was pretty weird. I lost all the hair from the most personal of my parts to the top of my head. My legs, however, didn’t cooperate. They were as furry as ever. To add insult to injury I wasn’t even allowed to shave. A simple little nick could turn into a horrible infection due to my low white blood cell counts. Thank the Lord above for the invention of Veet!
A lot of time to read: Before all this I averaged a few books a week, about twelve books a month. But my purchases were not in direct proportion to my reading and the bookshelves were bulging. If my family hadn’t expected certain things from me – dinner, clean clothes, attention, etc., – I would have read a lot more. So the thought of six months of guilt-free reading was enough to make me slightly giddy. But it turned out to be nothing more than a thought. The chemo made focusing nearly impossible so I read only a few books the whole time. What’s just as sad, if not more so, is that I still haven’t gotten up to speed and my bookshelves continue to bulge.
A set of new, improved, perky boobs: This isn’t related to chemotherapy, but my comment was blurted out without any understanding of the process. Many women choose not to have reconstruction, but the majority of mastectomy patients, especially among younger women, do decide on some form. There are a lot of emotions that accompany the loss of a breast and reconstruction is a way for women to feel better about their bodies. But the plain truth is, even if reconstruction makes a woman look normal, it doesn’t feel normal. Whether it’s implants or some type of flap procedure, the breast tissue, including nerves, is removed. There’s little to no sensitivity and sometimes it feels like a foreign appendage on your chest. So the boobs are new, they’re not necessarily improved and because I had a flap procedure instead of implants they’re really not all that perky. Frankly I’d rather have the old, small, slightly saggy boobs any day.
Then there’s all the weird stuff you never know about until you or someone close to you goes through treatment.
Chemopause: Chemotherapy shuts down the ovaries in premenopausal women causing chemically-induced menopause. While not all women experience hot flashes and night sweats during menopause, each chemopauser I’ve ever known suffered from spontaneous combustion on a regular basis. My family always knew when I was about to incinerate by the way I would whip off my bandana and fan my bald head. More often than not I’d end up with two kids blowing on my noggin in an effort to cool me off.
Chemo Brain: For a very long time this was considered the imagination of chemotherapy patients. There have been many studies done, however, and oncologists now take it seriously. Lack of concentration and forgetfulness are the results and it lasts much longer than treatment. Five years used to be the magic oncological number, but now they’re finding it lasts far beyond that for some patients. I deal with it and as frustrating as it can be at times, I can cover a multitude of forgetful sins by claiming chemo brain.
Lymphedema: In breast cancer patients this is the result of either 1) having lymph nodes removed during lumpectomy or mastectomy to check for the spread of cancer; and/or 2) damage to the lymph system from radiation. It causes painful and sometimes debilitating swelling of the surgical arm and there is no cure for it, only physical therapy to help reduce it. It can occur weeks, months or even years after surgery and there is no guarantee it won’t eventually happen. I’m thankful not to have lymphedema at this time and pray I never do. Not all oncologists agree with this, but my doctor advises against any trauma to my left arm including shaving. Again, praises for the invention of Veet.
It’s for this very reason that I decided to see my tattoo artist for laser hair removal of my underarms. If you’re thinking Miami Ink, think again. My “tattoo artist” is the medical aesthetician at my plastic surgeon’s office who tattooed my nipples after reconstruction. Calling her a tattoo artist is misleading because all she knows how to do is circles. I asked about flowers or Celtic knots, but she doesn’t have either in her repertoire. As it happens, she also does laser hair removal so I decided to have that done. It was well worth the searing pain and the money, though I have to go back for a touch up. (Note to self: Remember the leather strip and shot of whiskey.)
Osteoporosis: If a premenopausal woman’s cancer is caused by estrogen then it’s in that woman’s best interest to shut off the production of the hormone. Oftentimes chemotherapy is enough to shrivel the ovaries until they die, but sometimes an oophorectomy – the surgical removal of the ovaries and a fun word to say – is required. In my case I had to have the surgery which threw me into instant menopause. It was like winning the lottery because I went through the symptoms of menopause three times in two years. Not every woman is so lucky. But yanking those puppies and cutting off the major portion of estrogen causes the deterioration of bone. As my oncologist put it, it’s not a matter of IF I’ll get osteoporosis; it’s a matter of WHEN. Thankfully there is a lot in the way of nutrition and exercise that can put it off.
Arthritis/Joint Pain/Stiffness: Some chemotherapies and post-chemotherapy drugs can cause arthritic changes, joint pain and stiffness. It’s kind of a catch 22. The best thing for these conditions is exercise, but exercise can be difficult when you’re suffering from these conditions. I try to walk at least 30 minutes every day yet I still hobble and wince every time I get up after sitting for 10 minutes or more. I’m hopeful this will go away after I finish my post-chemo drug in two years, two months and a week or so.
Sexual Dysfunction: I hate to bring this one up. It’s just so personal, but it’s a very real fact. There are a lucky few who never deal with this issue. Then there are the rest of us. This subject alone could be a whole series of posts but I’ll try to condense it into one paragraph. There is the emotional side – self-image, fear of the disease, depression, fear of rejection. Then there is the physical side, especially when the estrogen has been staunched. Loss of libido, vaginal dryness, pain or discomfort. Not every woman deals with every aspect but they are each valid problems. It’s a hard knock when you go from a healthy sex life to no sex life seemingly overnight. Sadly marriages have failed due to this issue.
There are also things that have no explanation, but are most likely caused by the chemical changes from chemotherapy.
For several months after my reconstruction I had inexplicable skin problems that never were diagnosed even though I had several biopsies and saw a specialist. I still have small breakouts which resemble hives, but only a few at a time as opposed to nearly 100 at one point last year. The only thing my oncologist, gynecologist, dermatologist and specialist agreed on – it was most likely a latent result of the chemotherapy.
With each treatment of my second chemotherapy round I had a terrible case of thrush brought on by my dangerously low white blood count. I would take Diflucan – typically prescribed for yeast infections – and swish and swallow a horrible tasting liquid containing nystatin and lidocaine and all would be well until the next treatment. Ever since then my tongue has been continually swollen and I’m very susceptible to thrush. When I haven’t gotten enough rest or I let myself get stressed my tongue, gums and interior cheeks swell up even further. There’s no known reason for it so I just have to deal with it and hope it will eventually go away.
I didn’t know any of this when I started this unwelcomed journey. Of course everybody is different and while some may experience low white blood counts, which suppress the immune system, others experience low red counts, which cause extreme fatigue. Some patients may be ill through chemotherapy and lose dangerous amounts of weight while others, such as me, never get sick and actually gain weight. You never know until you go through treatment how you will react.
The not knowing to me was always the worst part. Not knowing what stage or grade cancer I had, not knowing my prognosis, not knowing how I would handle treatment, not knowing if my head was lumpy or if I’d look okay bald – the list is nearly endless. There was one thing I knew from the very beginning, though. God was with me and He was going to take care of me. He took my fears and gave me peace; He took my uncertainties and gave me hope; and He showed me that there is humor in just about everything if I’d only look for it. I honestly can’t imagine going through something like cancer without Him and I’m so glad I didn’t have to.
Last month Diane and Terri asked me to write a few posts for October since it’s Breast Cancer Awareness month and I happen to be more than aware of breast cancer. Diane also told me about Nicole Johnson’s video Stepping Into The Ring and provided the YouTube link.
I have to come clean and admit my immense trepidation at watching the video. I’m all about repressing negative emotion until a suitable time for a breakdown can be scheduled and Diane did tell me I would cry. She then lent me her DVD so I could watch a crisper, clearer version.
I write for an informational/support website called Mothers With Cancer. We are twenty-something women who have had to parent children while undergoing treatment for some form of cancer. All of us have our own personal blogs as well. Several of the breast cancer women posted this video on their blog with comments along the lines of “hits close to home” and “déjà vu”. Being without much pride, it’s easy for me to say they are much braver than I. I couldn’t bring myself to watch the video on their blogs because the timing was never right.
My husband, Todd, works from home when he’s not traveling so I looked at his calendar and figured out when I would have a good chunk of time to myself. When the time came I made sure the puppy had been thoroughly exercised and relieved, checked my Kleenex supply, turned off the ringer on the phone and settled in to watch the show. Let me just say it’s a good thing I wasn’t wearing mascara.
Nicole Johnson does a great job of capturing the emotion a young mother goes through when she’s been given a diagnosis of breast cancer. She talks about the anger, the despair and ultimately the victory over the disease as a Christian woman. I identify with much of the video and it stirred up so many emotions, not the least of which are triumph and hope.
I’ll stop blabbering now so you can watch it for yourself.
The sun rose as usual in Benton, Arkansas, on Wednesday, April 27, 2005. The birds sang, the dogs barked, all over the world people went about their business like any other day.
My husband, Todd, had accepted his new position in Pennsylvania and given his three week notice just days before. We were preoccupied with list upon list of what needed to be done around the house before it would be ready to show. It was our main topic of conversation.
I was a little miffed this particular morning because I had to stop my cleaning/purging/spiffing-up momentum for a mammogram and a doctor’s appointment. Not that getting a mammogram was any big deal. I’d had lumps before and had been squished twice already. They were always the same thing – benign fibroid cysts.
This lump was a little different, though. The small mass was just left of the nipple of my left breast and was pulling the areola in on that side. The effect was what I like to call “Marty Feldman Syndrome” or MFS. You know, one eye focused straight ahead while the other strayed off in an entirely different direction. Still, I only figured this had more to do with where the lump was and less to do with what it was.
What had me concerned was the fact my gynecologist was sending me to a “breast specialist” after the mammogram. He’d never done that before. In fact he’d never really been worried before, but this time he was obviously disturbed by the MFS. So I requested prayers from some friends and asked Todd to go with me.
The mammogram went as usual. I let the very nice technician manhandle my chest and tug on me just so there would be enough to cram in the cold contraption. I tried hard not to laugh when she said the ridiculous words, “Hold your breath and don’t move.” Really? Where am I going to go?
After the usual mammogram was the usual ultrasound. After the usual ultrasound was the usual quick consultation with the radiologist. This time, however, he said there was a bit of a chance of malignancy. About 20% from what he could see from the films. He was certain the specialist would want to schedule a needle biopsy. Bah! That meant there was an 80% chance of it being benign.
Films in hand, we headed to the breast specialist, more commonly referred to as the surgical oncologist. But I preferred the former title. Not quite as scary.
Todd and I sat in the cold, sterile room – he in the chair and me on the exam table in my lovely gown, feet dangling like a child – totally ignoring the huge elephant while we prioritized our ever-growing To Do list. The doctor came in with the films, clipped them onto the view box and introduced herself. She said the mass looked suspicious and a needle biopsy would be in order.
At this point I was more exasperated than anything. All I could think of was what a terrible inconvenience this was. I knew it couldn’t be cancer because I had no doubt God wanted us in Pennsylvania. He had been very persistent in this regard. And if He wanted us to move he wouldn’t give me cancer. Right?
“Here’s the deal,” I said. I told her about Todd’s impending move in just a few weeks and how the kids and I would be following as soon as the house was sold. If she gave the lump a 20% chance of malignancy as the radiologist did then I’d do the needle biopsy because I knew it would prove benign. So after explaining our situation I asked what her opinion was.
It was in that moment I realized she had been easing us into the reality of what we were dealing with. Her demeanor changed from professional courtesy to one of blunt frankness. “I’ve seen thousands of films and judging from this starburst pattern radiating away from the tumor, I would give this a 95% probability of malignancy.”
I’m not sure if I made a sound, but I felt as though I’d been hit in the stomach, the wind completely knocked out of me. Deep down I’d known this was different than the lumps I’d had before, but the shock was a physical blow. I was almost afraid to look at Todd and when I did I knew he’d been slammed by the same force. The doctor handed me a box of Kleenex and left us to gather our thoughts.
Not speaking, we clung to each other and wept. I was only 39. Our children were 10 and 13. We were supposed to be moving. Suddenly nothing made sense.
When she came back into the room I told her I didn’t want to waste time with a needle biopsy. That would just delay everything another week at least and time was of the essence here. I wanted to get this mess taken care of so I could get on with my life.
She agreed a needle biopsy would be nearly useless and before we left I was scheduled for a surgical biopsy and potential mastectomy the following week. Todd and I walked to the car in a mute daze, still reeling from the news. He finally broke the silence when he said he was going to try to get his Little Rock job back. I persuaded him not to do anything yet. At least not until we had stopped spinning and could think rationally.
As we drove home I looked at him and said, “There is a silver lining to this very dark cloud.” He looked at me, clearly unconvinced. “I’m serious. I can think of several benefits. First of all, the chemo will be a harsh, yet effective weight loss program and I won’t have to shave anymore. And I’ll have all the time in the world to read all those books in the office.”
He still didn’t seem to be on board until I hit him with the clincher. “And,” I said, going in for the kill, “insurance will actually pay for me to get a set of new, improved, perky boobs!” Yeah. That got his attention.
The rest of the day was a bit of a blur, though it seemed to drag out forever. Under normal circumstances my first phone call would have been to my mother. She and my dad, however, were on vacation in California with no way for me to get a hold of them. So instead I called my hairdresser and went in for a hair cut. Can you say “denial”? Or maybe it was just shock.
We had already told the kids I had a lump and the doctor wanted me to have a mammogram to make sure it wasn’t something bad. Of course I had to explain what that was, to which Taylor asked, “Will they pop back into place when it’s over?” That’s what happens when you encourage your children to ask questions. They do.
So that afternoon we told them the breast doctor didn’t like what she saw and I would be having surgery the following week. I don’t think we actually said the word “cancer” in this particular conversation. We figured the fact I was going to have surgery was enough for them to deal with. Besides, there was still that 5% chance it was benign.
There were several people who knew I was going in for a mammogram and I sent them a global email with the results of the day’s events. In the message I said we probably wouldn’t be answering the phone that day. By that night, however, I had spoken to the majority of them. What was funny – and truly made us laugh – was that I was the one comforting friends and family.
After the phone calls stopped and the kids had gone to bed, we laid in our own bed holding hands and talking. Despite the events of the day there was a feeling of peace. There were still so many unknowns, but, as I’ve said many times before, we knew God was in control. And that knowledge is the best source of comfort there is.