"D DAY" Diagnosis Day--Hers

I waited to go to the doctor for a number of what seemed like perfectly good reasons.  First, because I was the only person with a full-time job and I needed to wait until my writer husband got the second half of a agreed upon bit of freelancing. (they did not keep their agreement).   I figured that with this freelance money we could be okay without my income if I needed minor surgery.  I waited because my new insurance would not be active until March.  I waited because I was good at bearing down and weathering pain and I could do this again.

By Mid March the pain was keeping me up at nights and getting harder to bear through the work day so I went to an Ob/Gyn.

I was told I obviously had an infection.  So I was giving antibiotics.  They worked but the pain got worse.  So after a really horrific weekend I returned to the doctor.  After a couple more tests I was sent to the hospital for a cat scan.  Now I was beginning to worry.  The cat scan did not look good and I was sent to get an MRI.  It was almost 10 pm by now and I was in pain and exhausted.  A shaken nurse came to my side and her eyes were filled with tears.  She said,  "Sweetie it doesn't look good.  It looks like cancer."  Then she took my hand and squeezed it and said, "We are going to pray for you."

Cancer.  Well okay.  Then we will do a hysterectomy and it will be over right?   I was hospitalized that night.  Over the next 3 days there were biopsies of endometrial area and lungs.   On the forth day I was told that I was being released.  I still had not been given a full diagnosis.  So I asked the doctor on their rounds,  "What am I supposed to tell everyone?"  Her answer was blunt and to the point.  Tell them you have stage IV cancer of the uterus and it has moved to your lungs as well.

Didn't the earth crack?  I could have sworn that I felt a rip in my universe.   The pain had a name and it was a monster eating me alive.

Cecil had been with me for four solid days at the hospital and I had sent him home to rest.  So I was alone when I was told.  I called a friend to go and wake up Cecil because I could not reach him by phone and I didn't want Cecil to be alone when he heard the news.

When Cecil reached my room,  he ran to my bed and we sobbed together.

A black cloud settled on my heart as I listened to the odds that the oncology doctor gave me.  Without chemo you will die within 3 to 6 months.  With chemo you will have a 5% chance of survival.

I almost gave up then.

Then I remembered who I was.

I am a child of the living one true God.

I am hopeful in nature.

And I am blessed and surrounded with love.

So in a moment of clarity and determination I rejected the prediction of my demise and joined others who have said,  I have cancer but cancer does not have me.

I am not a label.  I am alive.  I will celebrate each day and make plans for the future.

Stage IV is God's stage.