Wednesday, January 23, 2019

New Doctor, Same Drill

In August 2018, my husband and I made a life-changing move. We left Markham, ON, where we had been working to plant a Chinese church, and re-settled in my hometown of Meadville, PA. 

I think we'd known for a long time that someday we'd want to be near my parents as they aged. We left our baby church in the hands of a capable Chinese pastor, but the transition was still bittersweet: I felt excited to be going home, but sad to be leaving the place we'd called home for nine years.

One of the hardest things about leaving Canada was saying goodbye to the fantastic health care professionals who had walked with me through two bouts of breast cancer. Thankfully, God has provided a wonderful new osteopath and oncologist to monitor my health going forward.

But there were two things I had not counted on. I had not anticipated how difficult it would be to navigate the stateside insurance system, nor how emotional it would be to rehash my cancer journey with a whole new set of doctors and nurses. It was hard to think back over all that I've been through, and to stir up all the old questions of "why?" 

Nevertheless, I have been very pleased with the quality of care I've received so far, and it has been calming to hear my new oncologist confirm that all of my past diagnoses and treatments have been right on track.

Last May, when my MRI prompted a biopsy (which came back benign), the radiologist in Canada recommended another MRI in six months. So we followed through on that here, and I was able to get it done on January 14.

The very next day, my oncologist called to say that the radiologist had seen the same area of "enhancement" which had shown up last year . . . and they wanted to do another biopsy and a mammogram. He said he wasn't suspicious ~ just doing their due diligence "given my history." (To be honest, I'm starting to get a little tired of that phrase!)

My first thought (to calm my racing heart) was, "No big deal. I've been here before."

My next thought was, "I have been here before! And I don't want to be here again!" (cue heart drop)

Sigh. Must I continue to face these "what ifs" over and over?

The next morning, I poured my heart out to God. I explained to Him that what bothers me about all this is the waiting. I just hate sitting in the doctor's office, holding my breath 'til I receive the verdict: cancer again? or not?

I told Him, "It's like January 31 is a giant brick wall, and I can't see what's on the other side of it."

And then I realized, I do know what's on the other side of that wall. God is on the other side ~ and no matter what happens, He will be there with me.

True to form, my Heavenly Father had me suspended in Psalm 73 on my way through the book. I just couldn't seem to get past verses 23-26:

Nevertheless, I am continually with you;
    you hold my right hand.
You guide me with your counsel,
    and afterward you will receive me to glory.
Whom have I in heaven but you?
    And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
    but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. (ESV)

And now I knew why I was "stuck" there. What better counsel for the place where I (again) found myself? (These verses actually seemed strangely familiar:  a friend had shared them on my FaceBook timeline in July 2016 when I was waiting for the pathology report from my second cancer surgery.)

I love how the psalmist, Asaph, says, "I am continually with you." (italics mine) Usually in Scripture we find God saying, "I will be with you." (That's Emmanuel, right? "God with us."¹) But if God is continually with me . . . then I am continually with Him. And he holds my hand.

The rest of this passage is the perfect antidote to pre-test-result jitters. It is a beautiful combination of now and eternity.

You guide me with your counsel 
     (showing me what to do now)
and afterward you will receive me to glory. 
     (no matter what happens, my future is secure)
Whom have I in heaven but you?
And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you. 
     (God is all that matters, in both this life and the next)
My flesh and my heart may fail,
     (my flesh will fail someday)
but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.
     (God strengthens my heart here . . . and my soul will go on forever)

Ahhhhh. Thank God for His Word, a rock I can stand on (as my soul-care coach recently prayed) in the face of a brewing storm.






¹Matthew 1:23

5 comments:

  1. Thanks for sharing this part of your journey, Anne. Praying...

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  2. I totally understand! I get tired of telling "the story" to new docs and specialists about my brain tumor! And then get nervous when I have to take the tests that will show them if it came back. But resting in God is all I can do b/c I can't change the outcome. So, today I got good news that there is no sign of any tumor and that my optic nerve is "pristine." (they check it for damage from the radiation.) Ha ha! Who knew an optic nerve could be pristine! Praying for you all!

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  3. May God bless you as you wait--I understand, I had colon cancer and waiting for results is hard!

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  4. Wow, you are amazing and strong! Thx for sharing the stregth you find in trusting Him. Praying for you.

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