February 12, 2013 will always be a day to remember. The final day of treatment for breast cancer! The first steps towards freedom from daily medical appointments, parking at the hospital, long walks down crowded hallways, and cold fingers prodding and poking. Time to shed the aches and pains of active treatment and just focus on rest and recovery. And celebrating! So the plan was to complete the final treatment, check in with the family doctor at the end of her busy day, and then go home to celebrate. Dear friends were waiting to make homemade waffles as a nod towards pancake Tuesday. But while my family doctor examines me, she finds what looks like another lump in the same breast. Suddenly i am going home with a very different plan in play: another mammogram to be scheduled, along with an ultrasound - which is likely to fall in the middle of our little mini-getaway planned for next week. WOW - talk about a curve ball! So instead of going home and celebrating with my husband and friends, i have to deliver some sobering news. We had planned some serious parties: lunch with my sister, mom and niece on Wednesday. Friday leave for a weekend with friends in Parry Sound. Next week, go to Toronto to relax, unwind, visit one of our favourite haunts, the zoo. Now all of this is put on hold while we wait to hear from the doctor about when the new mammogram is scheduled... Deflated does not begin to cover it.
Fast forward to this morning: our neighbour, herself a breast cancer survivor, hears the update. Another lump, with ominous possibilities. So she makes a few calls and suddenly i have a mammogram and ultrasound scheduled for THis AFTERNOON! it is a whirlwind, but we leave the hospital with good news: nothing suspicious at first glance. Looks like scar tissue, or perhaps something fibrous, but not anything to worry about. Nothing out of the ordinary. Music to my ears! The celebrations are back on, and there is no lingering cloud of worry hanging over us. THANK YOU DEAR NEiGHBOUR - you know who you are!!!
Recovering from cancer means living a "new normal." i think this experience was our first step into this new reality. Pete asked me today if this was always going to happen when our doctors and oncologists found a suspicious lump. The answer to that is yes - now that i have survived cancer, the medical community will always act in the interest of caution. That is part of the "new normal" for us. i am thankful to have such a thorough doctor! i am also thankful to be surrounded by friends and family who are so quick to respond to our cries for help and prayer. Another friend in Nicaragua sent me the following verse that has helped her breathe in difficult moments:
Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.
Amen.
--Reinhold Niebuhr
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
The Celebration that Almost Wasn't
February 12, 2013 will always be a day to remember. The final day of treatment for breast cancer! The first steps towards freedom from daily medical appointments, parking at the hospital, long walks down crowded hallways, and cold fingers prodding and poking. Time to shed the aches and pains of active treatment and just focus on rest and recovery. And celebrating! So the plan was to complete the final treatment, check in with the family doctor at the end of her busy day, and then go home to celebrate. Dear friends were waiting to make homemade waffles as a nod towards pancake Tuesday. But while my family doctor examines me, she finds what looks like another lump in the same breast. Suddenly i am going home with a very different plan in play: another mammogram to be scheduled, along with an ultrasound - which is likely to fall in the middle of our little mini-getaway planned for next week. WOW - talk about a curve ball! So instead of going home and celebrating with my husband and friends, i have to deliver some sobering news. We had planned some serious parties: lunch with my sister, mom and niece on Wednesday. Friday leave for a weekend with friends in Parry Sound. Next week, go to Toronto to relax, unwind, visit one of our favourite haunts, the zoo. Now all of this is put on hold while we wait to hear from the doctor about when the new mammogram is scheduled... Deflated does not begin to cover it.
Fast forward to this morning: our neighbour, herself a breast cancer survivor, hears the update. Another lump, with ominous possibilities. So she makes a few calls and suddenly i have a mammogram and ultrasound scheduled for THis AFTERNOON! it is a whirlwind, but we leave the hospital with good news: nothing suspicious at first glance. Looks like scar tissue, or perhaps something fibrous, but not anything to worry about. Nothing out of the ordinary. Music to my ears! The celebrations are back on, and there is no lingering cloud of worry hanging over us. THANK YOU DEAR NEiGHBOUR - you know who you are!!!
Recovering from cancer means living a "new normal." i think this experience was our first step into this new reality. Pete asked me today if this was always going to happen when our doctors and oncologists found a suspicious lump. The answer to that is yes - now that i have survived cancer, the medical community will always act in the interest of caution. That is part of the "new normal" for us. i am thankful to have such a thorough doctor! i am also thankful to be surrounded by friends and family who are so quick to respond to our cries for help and prayer. Another friend in Nicaragua sent me the following verse that has helped her breathe in difficult moments:
Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.
Amen.
--Reinhold Niebuhr
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Hi Cindy, I'm reading your blog for the first time tonight...wish I wouldn't have waited so long. There are some beautiful nuggets of truth in there that I will try to remember for my life! Thank you for chronicling your journey for us to read, and I pray that you will live cancer free and recover from the neuropathy you're feeling in your extremities. Bless you!
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