Where Cancer Found Me

On a very normal Monday, I found myself in a dermatologist's office in complete shock.  I could not believe what she was telling me.  "Worst case is 15-30% of people live", she said.  "15-30% die?", I restated incorrectly.  "No, that's the amount who survive 5 years. But we won't know for sure until you get it staged.  You need have surgery.  The surgeon will stage the cancer depending on how far it has travelled in your body. Then you'll know better where you stand. I already made an appointment for you to meet him on Thursday.  You need to go downstairs and get a chest x-ray right now."

She told me to call my husband, sit there as long as I wanted to. And she left. I couldn't move.  I was in shock.  I sat there staring at the wall, my thoughts whirling in incoherent circles.  I remember thinking it was a dream.  This couldn't really be happening to me. God wouldn't let this happen to me, to Jeremy, to my kids. My mouth was dry. I was cold. I couldn't call anyone. I couldn't even put a sentence together.  I felt so helpless.  I don't know how much time went by, then the nurse came in with a glass of water and I thought I should do something.  I left, in a complete daze.  

After getting the chest x-ray, I started just walking. I was on the USF campus so I was familiar with my surroundings, but unaware of where I was going.  I called Jeremy; I wanted to go home, but neither he nor I trusted my driving ability in my compromised mental state.  I found a bench, parked myself on it and began to pray.  I had a huge packet of info on melanoma that I began to read but it only made fear rise up in me. I read enough to get the gist of the severity of what I was facing, but I had to stop. It was too overwhelming.

Several people called me not even knowing of the news I just just received.  It was like God was already reminding me that I was not in this alone. People care about me and my family. He cares for us all.

The following week was a blur. Many conversations with friends, reading too much Internet info and too many stats about melanoma, meeting my surgeon then a medical oncologist. I had multiple scans and tests done- more than most people have in a lifetime.  Surgery was scheduled immediately.  With every appointment the reality of the situation began to sink in. It seemed like we just kept getting more bad news every time.

Surgery went well.  They were able to remove all the melanoma from the primary site and lymph nodes.  The scans showed no more cancer in my body. I was glad to hear this news but my heart was still heavy. They were telling me that melanoma is tricky.  It can get away from the primary site and out into your bloodstream and go undetected for a while. Scans can only pick up something that is already 2cm in size.  Smaller than that and it's undetectable. All the "what-if's" were plaguing my thoughts.  I was trying to go about normal daily life but they would catch me out of the blue.  "what if there is cancer growing somewhere else in my body right now?" "what if it comes back?" "what if i die?" too many scenarios.  Too many possibilities.  Too much fear.  I wanted to trust God. My mouth was saying that I did trust him, but in my heart I knew I was deceiving myself. Could I trust him in this? What did that kind of trust even look and feel like? This was way beyond my trusting ability. 

I went on like this for a couple weeks.  I would cry at the thought of cancer or death.  I would cry when I thought about my kids growing up and the chance that I would not be a part of that. I would cry reading anything about this disease or treatment options. I would cry when I was spending time with Jesus.  I was always sad.

Eventually, through conversation with my amazingly wise husband (no, he didn't tell me to describe him that way...) I realized real faith would be able to trust God and allow myself to play out those worse-case scenarios that I was trying to avoid.  To trust God in every moment in spite of the circumstances or the bad news of the day. Real faith would mean trusting God even on my deathbed...I think I've turned that corner in my relationship and trust in God. I think that my faith is ready for the journey of cancer. And when it fails me, I hope in his grace...

Cancer found me unprepared. My faith was not as strong as I thought it was.  My mind, my heart and my life were not in agreement with what I really believed.  It took this shock to make me figure out what I really believe about life, death and the hope we have in Jesus.  I don't have it figured out still, but I feel like I am on the right path. I don't know what tomorrow holds, but I want to be better prepared for whatever it may bring. God help me...