I’ve been having flashbacks. Last February was so dark for me. Sudden, unrelenting stomach pain led to a CT scan stat, which revealed a necrotic fibroid as large as a 4-month-old fetus. Given my history of breast cancer and Tamoxifen, plus my mom’s recent uterine cancer, we feared the worst.
When I googled whether a fibroid could be cancerous, I didn’t like what I found. Alone one night in my living room before a roaring fire, I bowed myself and begged God for mercy.
Total hysterectomy came on February 27, 2023, just one day shy of the 10-year anniversary of my first breast cancer surgery. Lord, couldn’t You even let me get to ten years?
To our great relief, the doctor saw nothing alarming, and the pathology came back two weeks later all clear. We walked with light steps and joyful hearts.
I still have precious memories of those days, even before our fears were relieved. Praise songs that burst from my soul through my lips. Scriptures that spoke straight to my fears. Friends who encouraged me and brought food and gifts. Our children who called or came from afar to visit. A cozy bed Greg created in our living room where I could enjoy the fire and watch the snow outside. Cats who curled up on the end of that bed, and a dog who slept on the floor by my side.
The other day, Greg and I were discussing cancer survival. “How long has it been?” he asked me. “Ten years?”
“Yes,” I said. Then my eyes grew wide. “No, wait…eleven! It’ll be eleven at the end of this month!” We gazed at each other for a moment, amazed that it had been that long…and that we had almost forgotten.
Of course, I know that cancer could rear its ugly head again at any time. But I’m so thankful for this journey, the ones who walk beside me, and pockets of hope and joy along the way.
Image source: Original photo, 2023.
Image source: Original photo, 2023
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