Going it alone

Ever since I found out about this diagnosis, I've wondered how people deal with this kind of thing without faith. It happens every day to people of all faiths and to those of no faith. Cancer is anything but discriminating. It doesn't care what your chosen profession is, how important you are, where your worship, or how much money you have. We're all equally susceptible. Some have a family history or genetic predisposition, but as far as this breast cancer goes, most of us do not. So, how do you deal with it alone? I say "alone" because at the end of the day, no matter how many friends you have, how much support your family offers, or how good your doctors are, YOU are the one with cancer. It's just you. They don't have it. I just can't imagine having to pull myself up by the bootstraps and get through it without being able to bring it all to the feet of Jesus. I get to leave it there and know that it's really not my problem to solve. It's off my plate, in my life, but off my plate.

I bring this up because I've been reading a book about a girl, much younger than me, diagnosed at 27 with the same disease. There's a good story there. She had it all together. Her career was taking off as a television producer, married to a young doctor, had the world by the tail. Her story has a lot to offer. I've learned about some tips to help me through the chemo that's ahead. She just dug deep and made it through on her own. I admire her choice to never buy hair. She just wore a cap and hung on to what whisps she had left. I could never do that of course. But, it took great courage to do it that way. Clearly, she's not a southern woman. I mean NO HAIR in the land of big hair??? My mother would die! She gets her face on to go to the mailbox, because "you just never know". I'm not quite sure what "you just never know" means exactly, but whenever possible I do the same. I've even done the same here in the house recovering from the surgery. It's a whole new definition of dressed up with no place to go.

I went to get one of my last 2 drains removed today and actually got my hands on the printed pathology report. Thanks for all of the prayers for containment that I asked for and you carried out. Turns out they found a strange thing as they were chopping up the pieces to examine them. They told me the tissue around the tumor had chronic inflammation. Apparently, that's a little unusual. My surrounding tissue was fighting back against the tumor. It wasn't going to win, but it was fighting. That sounds like me, and I was proud of it for trying. I think it was buying time for the surgeons to get it out, and it looks like they made it.

I also learned that because the pathology report was so good (as far as pretty darn sure they got everything) that the Oncologist will probably recommend that I do it, but give me the option of no chemo if I choose. That just seems crazy to me at this point. I've already chosen the most drastic surgery. (Not to mention hundreds of dollars of "hair" to wear thanks to my company and my loving sister.) I'm not quitting now. I could never live with the knowledge that one little cell escaped and took Brayden's mom away a few years later. No way. I'm fighting this to win. So, if you're in there, you one little cell of cancer, prepare to die. We're bringing in the systemic nukes. We'll find you and get you, too. I'm just glad I'm not doing it alone. Thank you to all of the wonderful people of Fellowship Church who've fed our family so well and contributed to the wonderful gift basket I got yesterday from Tisha and Michelle. I so appreciate it. I just can't believe the outpouring of support and generosity from our church. Thanks to my family and friends. And most of all, Thank you, Jesus for always meeting me right where I am and giving me a place of rest like no other. I for one know that I could never do this "going it alone".