They say it’s Cancer, but they don’t know my God. I sit and listen as they tell me what they see, but I can’t assimilate all the words at once. I’m a writer, so I love words. Just not these.
The Insurance kicked in March 1st, and one week later I saw my doctor. She sent me straight to Austin, TX for the mammogram, and a few days later, I was having the biopsy.
The biopsy was Friday, and Monday afternoon my doctor called me in to talk. That is never good. She said the ‘C’ word, and said I have ‘Infiltrating Ductal Carcinoma.’ It’s the most common type of breast cancer in 80% of women, and typically hits the more mature woman of 50 or over.
My grandmother, mother and sister had it. I thought I would break the cycle.
I woke up this morning more grateful than a week ago. The Cancer Specialist cannot see me for another week. My doctor had to call four places before she could find one to take me in. Our Cancer centers are overflowing with people with a similar situation as me.
So, I have a week to wait and see a doctor’s plan for treatment. God has been in front of me on this journey. He has moved swiftly up until now. He’s not done teaching me how to wait.
God is working while I wait.
He needs time to line up the next part of this journey. What that looks like, I don’t know, but He has a plan. My first thought during this was, “How can God get the glory for this?”
Well, I can write about it, and hopefully encourage someone else by what I’m going through. God has given me a beautiful life. The last three years have been exceptionally beautiful. I’m not sure this is going to be pretty, but He promises to turn everything around for His good and His glory.
He has already proved that His plan is always better than mine.
There is a song by Colton Dixon, Through All Of It. I have no regrets, like he mentions in the song. God sees what we’re going through. He has seen every tear I’ve shed over this. My favorite part of the song is…’But Oh…You have been my God through all of this.’
There are no surprises for God.
He’s on the throne mighty as ever.
So, while I wait to see the next doctor, I see the beauty in life a little bit more. The pace of life has slowed, and what I thought was important is not so important. I hug my daughter every chance I get, and tell people ‘I love you’ more than before. My laughter still shakes a room, and I take time to notice what other’s may be going through while they wait.
Sometimes life feels like one big waiting room.